After my Saturday morning workout this past weekend (I feel the need to tell you this because there is a reason I was still in my workout clothes...which isn't different from any other day. I just want you to think that I wear something other than workout clothes. I generally don't.), we went on our Saturday morning family drive. We went to our usual place, grabbed some coffee, piggies in blankets and donut holes and headed out on our drive. Jason called one of our good family friends (who happens to be the Dean at Oklahoma Christian) to see what was going on that morning and he told us to stop by OC for Freshman move-in day. He said that it's a really fun atmosphere with everyone moving into the dorms AND they were handing out Chic-fil-a breakfast sandwiches.
You had me at Chic-fil-a breakfast sandwiches.
When we pulled up on campus, the sight of parents moving in their kids brought back a flood of memories from when I moved into the same dorm 13 years ago. Did I just say 13 years ago???? Goodness, I'm old. Watching the moms and daughters and the tears that were being held back (and sometimes not) made me well up inside.
I needed a breakfast sandwich to distract me immediately.
While we were walking around I kept asking university staff if they had room for two more girls. It was a funny joke that rolled off of everyone except Chloe.
She soaked up every word I was saying. The girl would not let go of my hand. (Stella was ready for immediate move-in.) Finally, she looked up at me with huge puppy-dog eyes and said,
"Mommy. Are we going to have to say goodbye today?"
I could have died right then and there.
After fighting back the tears and holding her close, I assured her that she was going home with us.
It was then that I wondered how I will ever survive the stages that come with being a parent. And I also decided that the Rapunzel's mean mother had a pretty stellar idea. Holding her daughter captive in a tower. Hiding her from the outside world. Using her hair for endless youth. I mean, that's pretty genius.
But I guess I can't do that. I guess I have to accept that God willing, the girls will grow up into beautiful women and we can be there to guide them each step of the way. And I pray for the day when I do drop them off at college, that I will look back and think of them as my little two-year old and three-old and the question that stopped me in my tracks.
While we were pulling away, Jason said,
"It won't be too much longer before we're doing this. I will be 49 when we our kids start going to college."
"That's funny", I said, "I won't be a day over 35."
And then I drowned my delusional thoughts and sorrows in that Chic-fil-a breakfast sandwich. I immediately pondered how I would survive the real kindergarten drop-off in a couple of years after narrowly surviving a fake, years away, college drop-off. I have a feeling it's not going to be pretty.