I have almost mastered keeping up with the laundry during the week.
Almost.
The clothes are washed and dried throughout the week but instead of folding them and putting them away, I dump them on the guest bed and wait until the weekend to fold them.This works because nobody runs out of clothes. However, it can be challenging to find the clothes you are looking for in the giant heap on the guest bed.
There are a few down sides to this "plan". One is that I have a thousand pounds of clothes to fold and put away on weekends. The other problem is sometimes socks and underwear get lost in the guest bed and when guests wake up to a random pair of underwear attached to their pajamas, they are a little unsettled.
I promise. They are clean.
Last night I finished my late night task of folding laundry and finally lay down to go to sleep. It was later than I usually go to be and I was looking forward to a quick nod off.
That wasn't meant to be.
For the first time ever, I imagined my oldest kid going off to college. Sure, we talk about what he might want to study and where he wants to go. We talk about keeping his grades up and what he needs to do to prepare for SATs, college applications, and scholarship applications. I've allowed myself to picture him moving on, but I've guarded my imagination and only really thought about him doing awesome things and becoming a fabulous young man. Up until last night, I never included myself or my feelings in those future thoughts.
Last night, he was just gone. Out of the house, off doing his own thing in college. And I missed him.
I missed his sarcasm and the fact that he lets me make fun of him when he makes silly mistakes and has no problem laughing at himself. I missed connecting with him when I give him rides here and there, and knowing who his friends are and what his latest passion is.
I just lay there realizing my time with him is so short.
And for the first time I thought maybe I don't want him to go away to college!
This kid is smart, though he doesn't give his full effort, he is kind and a hard worker, when he wants to be. He will be an awesome leader and will be a great adult. I know that in order for him to become all that he is designed to be, he will have to leave and go learn and grow. But that means I have to let him go.
I was at a parent meeting for Eli's summer ball team and the coach said "you are all so lucky to have 15 year old boys". He laughed and said wouldn't have imagined himself saying this a decade ago when he had a 15 year old. But in hindsight he knows, it is a treasure to have a 15 year old boy who is committed to playing ball, being a part of the team, and still needing his parents around.
He's right. I am lucky to have this 15 year old. I need to remind myself of that when he gives me sass. I have two more years to shape him, sit on his bed at night and talk about his day, make fun of him, laugh with him, and dream with him about his future. Two more years until he leaves me. Unless he doesn't work hard during those years at school and then he'll be living with us for longer - which is what I keep saying to him when he comes home with a C on a Spanish test.
Almost.
The clothes are washed and dried throughout the week but instead of folding them and putting them away, I dump them on the guest bed and wait until the weekend to fold them.This works because nobody runs out of clothes. However, it can be challenging to find the clothes you are looking for in the giant heap on the guest bed.
There are a few down sides to this "plan". One is that I have a thousand pounds of clothes to fold and put away on weekends. The other problem is sometimes socks and underwear get lost in the guest bed and when guests wake up to a random pair of underwear attached to their pajamas, they are a little unsettled.
I promise. They are clean.
Last night I finished my late night task of folding laundry and finally lay down to go to sleep. It was later than I usually go to be and I was looking forward to a quick nod off.
That wasn't meant to be.
For the first time ever, I imagined my oldest kid going off to college. Sure, we talk about what he might want to study and where he wants to go. We talk about keeping his grades up and what he needs to do to prepare for SATs, college applications, and scholarship applications. I've allowed myself to picture him moving on, but I've guarded my imagination and only really thought about him doing awesome things and becoming a fabulous young man. Up until last night, I never included myself or my feelings in those future thoughts.
Last night, he was just gone. Out of the house, off doing his own thing in college. And I missed him.
I missed his sarcasm and the fact that he lets me make fun of him when he makes silly mistakes and has no problem laughing at himself. I missed connecting with him when I give him rides here and there, and knowing who his friends are and what his latest passion is.
I just lay there realizing my time with him is so short.
And for the first time I thought maybe I don't want him to go away to college!
This kid is smart, though he doesn't give his full effort, he is kind and a hard worker, when he wants to be. He will be an awesome leader and will be a great adult. I know that in order for him to become all that he is designed to be, he will have to leave and go learn and grow. But that means I have to let him go.
I was at a parent meeting for Eli's summer ball team and the coach said "you are all so lucky to have 15 year old boys". He laughed and said wouldn't have imagined himself saying this a decade ago when he had a 15 year old. But in hindsight he knows, it is a treasure to have a 15 year old boy who is committed to playing ball, being a part of the team, and still needing his parents around.
He's right. I am lucky to have this 15 year old. I need to remind myself of that when he gives me sass. I have two more years to shape him, sit on his bed at night and talk about his day, make fun of him, laugh with him, and dream with him about his future. Two more years until he leaves me. Unless he doesn't work hard during those years at school and then he'll be living with us for longer - which is what I keep saying to him when he comes home with a C on a Spanish test.
Comments