Oh, the Drama!

My daughter left for college four-and-a-half years ago, but the stress and strife of those days still lingers.

We started the college odyssey at the beginning of her sophomore year in high school; this is when I introduced her to www.fastweb.com and explained the importance of keeping up her grades (not really an issue, but still!) and applying for scholarships. That pretty much went in one ear, and out the other.

Moving on to her junior year in high school, she announced one day that she had "decided" where she was going to college. It was a state university. In another state. I explained to her that choosing a public college was a fine idea, but by picking one almost 1000 miles away the cost savings was more than eliminated.

I had heard that smaller, private colleges often had more financial aid to disburse, much more than most people realized, and so I began my campaign to convince her to stay closer to home and apply to one of these.

We went 'round and 'round, and the upshot was that she would go where I suggested and commit to one year - and that I would buy her a car.

Since her scholarship and grant money covered all but one-quarter of the cost of that first year (and much less the cost of that state school she'd wanted to go to), I figured I was coming out ahead; the plan was that, upon graduation, the car would be signed over to her.

I bought the car; she gave notice at her job, and started to pack. Just two days prior to leaving, her room looked as though she hadn't even started to apply to colleges, and of course we'd all forgotten the poor hamster - guess I had a new roommate then.

We loaded up her car, finally, and our truck; naturally, because kids don't just "go" to college anymore, they really do literally take their entire lives with them. She had a suite at school, four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a living area. Unfortunately for her, she was only allowed one of those bedrooms and it was half the size of her room at home; we stayed an extra day so my husband could "loft" the bed. That helped, a little.

So we left her there. Hadn't even reached the city limits when the phone calls began. They ranged from serious to mundane to laughably outrageous:

"Um, where is the registrar's office?" Gosh, I don't know, honey - I'm on the highway about ten minutes away. Didn't they give you a map? Can you ask someone who is actually on campus?

"Why isn't my printer working? Are you sure you hooked it up?" Sweetie, did you turn it on?

"I forgot my toothbrush. What should I do?" Well, um, could you go somewhere and buy a new one? Or would you rather I ship it when I get home?

Honestly - these were true and actual questions from an adult "child". And she was no stranger to travel; since the age of ten she'd been flying to her dad's, her grandma's, and Disney World with her aunt. She'd been away from home many times - and often said she preferred that!

I called her that evening after we got home; I'm not heartless, after all, even if I did clean out her room the next day so the two boys wouldn't have to share anymore. And I called her the next morning.

Later that second day, she called me. Five times. And repeated that every single day for nearly the first week. After that, of course, the calls decreased. A typical day had me on the phone with her for about an hour, spaced out over three or four calls. I seriously started to consider ordering an unlisted number and relinquishing my cell phone.

Fast forward to 2009. I still get a call almost every day. She calls to tell me her car didn't start, but then it did; she calls to tell me she got pulled over, but just got a warning. She calls to tell me - oops, she forgot why she called. There are days I'd like to not only cut the apron strings, but burn them, drop them into acid, and give away all the aprons themselves.

Yes, most of those calls are pretty mundane. But I still get some doozies, and often suffer some outright drama straight from a Greek tragedy; or is that a comedy? It can be hard to tell:

(On her way back to school from a home visit) "Mom, I just got another flat tire (her third in three months)."

"Okay, honey, stop crying, it'll be fine. Where are you?"

"In Oklahoma."

"It's a big state, dear, where exactly in Oklahoma are you?"

"Um, I don't really know...I was on the highway...."

"Yes, honey, that's the preferred method of travel in a car. What city or town are you near?"

"Um, Tulsa? I think?"

So you see why drama and frustration abound, right? You see why I don't look forward to sending the next off? Oh, wait - he's at boarding school right now. Thankfully he doesn't drive yet...much.