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Health & Fitness

The 16 Week Clock

The panic that ensues when the schedule changes...without warning...empty nest time!

   Last weekend, Desi and I journeyed to Salem State University to tour the campus and get a feel for the school, and the town. Since she spent her first two years ay MCCC, we had never done the "college weekend" thing...and we were both excited to give it a try.

   The school was everything she hoped for---and the town is  a happening little place...hard to believe it's just 20 miles outside of Boston. We followed the "student guide" quite happily, with the thought in mind that she would transfer next fall.  After the tour we spoke to one of their transfer advisors, and suddenly the plan changed.

     "Is there any reason Desi can't come in January?"

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      And instantly I was in that weird place that parents occasionally get transported to. Happy, oh yeah. Excited, for certain...and then the OTHER part, that forgets the smart, hip young woman standing next to me is now 20...that wailed inside ..."So SOON?" Ok Momma Lion, calm down. It's not "so soon". You had two years more than most parents get...and she's ready. It's time.

          Parents acquire a trick to stave off panic. You distract yourself with the nuts and bolts. You start making mental lists. We'll need the transcripts. I have to check on the FAFSA. Now's a great time to buy the extra long sheets most dorm beds need...and I clung to that strategy. It was working fine until my daughter broke it down into an actual time frame. "It's ok Mom...I'm not leaving for 16 weeks."

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          I take huge credit. I did not swallow my tonsils, or drive us off the road. We webt to Salem thinking the "big day" was a year away. Lots of time to get used to the idea. And suddenly...16 weeks. When we got home I was ok...and that night, my daughter called a "goodnight" from the stairs...and a new list was started...stuff i will miss when she's gone. No more sponteous "girl trips". No lunches just because we could. And even if she comes back, it won't be the same...she will be a different person...and i won't have the chance to watch it happening.

So I sound like a brat. Adjust. I spent the last few days wading through financial aid forms, researching scholarships, and suddenly I had an epiphany about the economy. I've heard other parents complain about sky rocketing college costs. Her college offers an "easy monthly payment plan" that stretches over five months...at a cost of $3500 a month. Thirty years ago, that 3500 covered tuition, books, room and board for a year. I kbow incomes are not 10 times as much as they were...so how on earth did college get THAT expensive?

But I digress. I have 16 weeks to prepare my house and my heart for my daughter's exodus. Four months...rather than 12. Yes, she could stay in state...but we recently found out that attending SSU will actually cost about 400 dollars less than any NJ college. Since loans will be involved, I feel like she has the right of choice. If she has to shoulder the debt, she should have the right to pick the school.

Yes, she could live at home, and commute...but there is something about the college experience that helps you mature. And I think every young adult needs the time alone and away, to put the polish on who they are, and will be. I'm not worried about partying, and late night binge drinking. I'm more worried that she will do what I did...stay up all night writing. (Ok...so she does that now...but she usually stops at four or five am knowing I will yell if she's still at it when I wake up.)

And yes...I will worry. I will miss her.

Sixteen weeks doesn't seem that long anymore. But it is our new reality. In December, she will finish her AA, and in January...off to Salem, to start the next phase of her life.  Between now and then I hope to stop getting misty every 20 minutes. I refuse to look at her pictures from grade school. I will focus on what she will need, and what she can bring. I will fill out the forms, keep on top of the paperwork, and cling to the "brass tacks" of the moment.

In January, I will be a wreck, thanks...but til then? I'll be counting the weeks.

You rock, Desi...and i will roll with it.

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