I haven’t blogged in a while because I’m recovering…
Prior to last weekend I was getting ready to go out-of-town with Darling Daughter—and this week I’ve been regrouping from our little adventure.
We live east of Cleveland, but headed to Columbus overnight to watch our high school wrestling team compete in a tournament, then stayed for daughter to do a scholarship competition at a college just outside of Columbus.
And so we watched wrestling on Saturday, and then went shopping at the mall that evening.
At the mall…
Darling Daughter: Mom. I’m stuck! The zipper…
Daughter was in the fitting room and I went in to help.
Darling Daughter: ZIP IT. And I mean that in two ways!!
Later at the shoe store…
Me: I’m hot
Daughter plopped down in a chair.
Me: I need orthopedic heels for work. My black dress shoes are instruments of torture.
Nice Salesmen to Daughter: Long day of shopping girls?
Darling Daughter: No. we were at wrestling…
Poor fella was stunned. Daughter and I exited the store.
Darling Daughter: Did you see his face when I said we were at wrestling?
Darling Daughter: He looked confused…
Then it hit us. He had no idea what to think. What the hell kind of wrestling were we watching? Where Daughter and I wrestling? We laughed so hard we couldn’t breathe…
As we made our way through the parking lot to our car, I asked Daughter if there was anyplace else she wanted to go. There’s no limit to the shopping that can be done in Columbus.
Darling Daughter: I’ve had it. I just don’t know if I can look around anymore.
Me: It HAS been a long day of shopping…
Darling Daughter: How long HAVE we been shopping?
Me: Maybe an hour and a half?
Darling Daughter: That’s IT?
More laughter. Less than two hours is a pathetic effort, really.
Thankfully we’re both blessed with a sense of humor, because we spent most of the day laughing. Mostly at each other. And I had a blast with my girl.
HOWEVER, THIS IS WHAT I’M WORKING WITH:
Yes. Daughter went to bed in socks, sweats a hoodie—even AFTER completing an extensive bedbug check.
Darling Daughter: Just be glad I don’t have gloves. If I did, I’d put them on.
She was serious. We both knew it.
There were even sticky notes on the headboards…
On the nightstand, there were little, white notepads that said “for your thoughts…”
Daughter stuck one of the yellow sticky notes on the notepad and wrote, “This is not reassuring.” She’s never shy about sharing her thoughts.
Darling Daughter to me: I mean, you assume that’s the case.
Daughter was nervous about the college scholarship competition. I tried to calm her down…
Darling Daughter: Sure it’s no big deal. Only my future. What if my dreams are dashed?
Me: Then you’ll change your dream. Get new dreams?
NOT the right thing to say. (Just a little advice to other parents of seniors…)
AND HERE’S WHAT DARLING DAUGHTER IS WORKING WITH:
Me: There’s a cupcake shop.
Darling Daughter: You don’t NEED a cupcake.
Me: I might need one…
She also had to cope with my driving. Not improved now that I’ve got my handy, V6, stick shift, Nissan—good thing the leather head rest is cushy, because her head kept bouncing off of it.
I can’t sit still–NOT helpful when we sat through the college info session and she was so nervous she thought she was going to throw up. And I kept making her seat move, jostled her around.
AND WE BOTH HAD TO COPE WITH GETTING LOST:
I plugged 615 Sandusky into the GPS, but Daughter had written 61 S Sandusky in my notebook. We drove around until we were both completely aggravated.
Me: Clearly, we’re at a gas station. NOT a college campus.
Darling Daughter: Yes.
Me: We can hardly MISS a college campus!!!
Daughter finally looked at the directions (again) and as we talked it through, she realized our collective error. I read her ‘S’ as a number 5.
By the time we reached the college, I badly wanted to enroll her—and LEAVE her there.
And had she like the school, I’m sure she would have LOVED to stay!!
Last night at Steak ‘n Shake we discussed the college visit with Aunt Kate…
Aunt Kate: So it went well?
Darling Daughter: No. I failed miserably.
(Or so Daughter thinks…which means that we hoofed it down to Columbus, stayed overnight at a hotel, dropped several hundred dollars…for nothing??)
Aunt Kate: Oh well, it was a good experience for you.
Me: That’s what I said. She doesn’t really agree…
We discussed it a little more and I joked that Daughter could always live at home and commute.
Darling Daughter: No. I can’t!!
Me: I know. No way you can do that.
One thing we BOTH agree on.
Daughter cannot live at home. We love each other, but she is 100% ready to leave the nest. Has been most of her senior year. And I’m ready (or at least I think I’m ready??) to let her go…
Mom: Can I take shampoo to school?
Me: Sure. I don’t care which one you take, just leave something…
Darling Daughter has late arrival, yet she gets up at 5:30 and does a 6am morning run (and workout) with a couple of other girls crazy enough to run at the crack of dawn. She showers at the school, then heads to the library to study and do scholarship applications before her first class at 9am (ish).
And so there was NO shampoo in the shower this morning…
That’s why I was on the worldwide web at 7:30am looking for a recipe for making your own shampoo. Which I created with a combination of baking soda and warm water, then rinsed with vinegar per the instructions online.
On my agenda today? A lunch event where I’ll be speaking in front of nearly 100 people—making clean hair a must. How clean it really is, I’ve no idea!!
There you have it. My life is kind of a crazy comedy of errors. Bound to happen when a 42-year-old single mother lives with her 18-year-old daughter. (And I’m not even counting the teenage body, the dogs, etc.)
Tomorrow, I’m just hoping to have shampoo…