Posted by: Patti Dickinson | 08/06/2015

Grouchy, tired, hot, thirsty, sweaty and bossy


16292994Schlepping a college kid’s stuff around Manhattan, Kansas, Wildcat Country. Home to K-State, where they bleed purple.

Long story short. Meghan moved houses. She had to be out of her old house seven days before she could get in her new house. Yup. The storage locker was the answer. Which essentially meant moving twice instead of once.

We went yesterday to do part two of the move. 162 in the shade. August in Kansas.  T-shirt soaked in under seven minutes. Of course she chose the bedroom on the second floor. Stairs with almost no depth that would never, ever pass building code inspection. Fourteen steps, I counted. Four of us working. Meghan and Isaac, Wood and I. The two women had lots of ideas on how to load the truck. Of course, none of those ideas meshed with what the men had in mind. It is part of my DNA (and apparently at least one of my offspring!) to freely express my opinions, especially where moving things is concerned. I just know, on a cellular level, how to get a dining room table through a doorway that upon first look, is too small. So I make a few suggestions. It’s not an I-want-my-way sort of thing, it’s more mentioning something that the others may not have thought of that would be a shortcut to getting this thankless job done in a great big hurry.

But it got done. And despite the heat, despite the aggravation, as we drove I-70 eastward back to Kansas City, Wood and I had one of those long talks – again. How did we go from diapers to a senior preparing to be a social worker? In a blink. How she is dating a young man very much like her dad. Respectful, a calm demeanor, funny, kind, gentle. Things that all moms want for their daughters. That poor guy loaded all her earthly belongings into a truck, only to drive 3 miles to unload it all again. He never complained. I had all that handled!

It’s about launching a kid. The very thing that makes it so hard to let out the apron strings, is the very thing that we made sure she knew how to do when it was time for that to happen. Figure out life. Order the truck in advance. Make sure you have the code to get in the gate of the storage locker. How to sign a lease, negotiate who gets which room, all of it.

I guess we teach without realizing it sometimes. We certainly didn’t practice signing leases when she was yay-high. It’s trial and error. It’s taking on more and more responsibility confidently. And what more can a mom want than to raise a daughter who knows who she is and knows her value. In a blink my little curly-haired kid with her thumb in her mouth, morphed into this beautiful young woman.

Lucky me.

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