My Baby Is Leaving

I am slightly melancholy.  I don't use that word very often, but I like it.  Melancholy.  Melon Colly

Anyways - my baby is leaving.  Not my little one but my big baby.  the baby that still likes when his mommy makes him a sandwich, or a nice stirfry.  The one who loves when he sometimes comes home to fresh sheets in an otherwise uninhabitable bedroom.  The one who gets a sheepish look and says "Thanks mom," when I bring him home a treat from the grocery store.  Yes he is 18.  And yes, he sometimes could be 6.

It is not for sure, but he has applied at a university about 5-6 hrs away for next year.  He goes this weekend for a campus tour and an academic tour.  I am excited for him.  I remember that feeling of packing some boxes and moving away from home for the first time.  It was exciting and a bit scary...but mostly exciting!

I am sad that he won't be here all the time, but who am I kidding - I only see him these days when I cook a nice meal...then he crawls out of the woodwork long enough to scarf down some grub, before moving back to his shadows.  Actually he does play with his baby sis sometimes too.  That kid sure loves her big brother.  Most of the time.  Sometimes he acts like he really is 6 or 7, bugging her until she's whining and running to mommy.  Then he laughs like an evil fiend.

As he prepares to leave (okay not for five more months) I have started to think about sending him care packages - baked goods, and canned pasta, granola bars and toothpaste...I figure I'll save at least $200 a month in groceries so I can certainly send him a care package now and then.  And go to the spa with the cash I save!  Woot!

I am also thinking about re-doing his room, but since he'll likely be home for four months each summer, it may be best to hold off on that just a bit longer... (Or find ways for my inner Martha to come out, that still maintains a room for him...so much I could do!)

The joys of sending your child off in the world, hoping you have built up his wings to be strong enough to fly on his own, but to always return to you.  Bittersweet.