Driving

Graduation is now almost upon us.  We're in the midst of the "lasts"- the AP exams, the final band concert, the final full month of school.  The banquets and the award ceremonies are underway. Prom has come and gone. The cap and gown are stashed in the closet, ready for the Big Day. The graduation announcements have been sent out.  Festivities are being planned. Every day I am reminded that the Teenager is on a fast train towards adulthood and independence, and that train is speeding up every day. 

I like to think that I'm not a hovering mother; that I'm one of these laid back, whatever happens, I'm cool kind of parents, but I'm not, really.  Sometimes I really need to hover, to make sure that my baby girl is safe and everything is good.  It's hard for my brain to wrap its way around the idea that my hovering Mom days are coming to an end.  In a few months she'll be several hundred miles away.  It feels like she just came home for the first time, dressed in a Winnie-the-Pooh onesie and swaddled in a baby blankie with ducks on it. I don't want her to leave; it feels like she just got here. 

Yet I know it's time for her to go; it's time to fly out of the nest and see where the wind takes her. 

About a week ago, she passed her driving test and obtained a drivers license. A few days later she wanted to drive the car to Starbucks to study, so she asked the Dad of No for the use of his vehicle.  He handed over the keys, she got in the driver's seat, and we stood out in the alley behind our house to watch her take her inaugural solo drive. 

I'm going to follow her there, I told him, after she'd left. Just to make sure she's okay. 

No, you're not, he replied. 

You'll probably be relieved to know that I didn't.  However, the temptation was strong.  I had an overwhelming maternal urge to make sure everything went smoothly, that my baby girl arrived safely at her destination, that no crazy driver got in her way.  I also knew, however, that if she found out- and she would- she'd probably be mad.  The Dad of No was right; I did not need to follow her.  I went back in the house, put my car keys away, and started uploading observations into my iNaturalist account. I might have checked my phone a few times. Just in case. I admit, I was relieved when she arrived back home, safely, a few hours later.  

The Teenager has always had an independent streak.  When I sent her to sleepaway Girl Scout camp, one of the questions on the form was "What are some things we can do if your Girl Scout becomes homesick?". I didn't know how to answer the question.  She insisted up until the moment of departure that she wouldn't miss us, not one bit.  She would especially not miss her brother. She couldn't wait to get away from him.  I don't get homesick, she told me.  Sorry, mom.  I love you, but I don't miss you. 

Two days into camp the phone rang. It was the Girl Scout camp. 

I was sure that they were calling because she was sad, and she missed us.  The nice lady on the other end of the phone, however, had a different tale to tell. Apparently the Teenager had used up all her camp cash on slushy drinks and candy and was out of money and the camp wanted to know if I wanted to make an extra deposit into her account so that she could buy more "snacks". She wasn't homesick at all.  She was too busy drinking Slushees. 

At least, I told myself, while thinking about how fast the next three months are going to go, the Son of Never Stops Eating will be around for awhile.  The nest isn't completely empty yet.  This thought consoled me until the next day, when the Son of Never Stops Eating mentioned that he wanted to get a driver's license too, because he didn't want to ride the bus to school anymore.  He's sprouting his own wings. 

And so the adventures continue...I definitely will not be following the Teenager to college, but I will be hoping she texts me every now and then, just to check in- because I'm still Mom, and I will still worry.