Meet Shelley, who is sharing her experience as an OC parent through her blog. Her daughters Emily (OC '13) and Rachel (OC '15) are only mildly embarrassed by her stories.
My dad never met a “dad joke” he didn’t like. You know, the old…
Me: I’m hungry.
Dad: Nice to meet you Hungry. I’m Starving.
One of his favorite routines, something he said EVERY time we neared our destination after a long car trip, was, “You know what the monkey said when he got his tail cut off by the lawnmower….” To which we kids were thoroughly trained to reply, “It won’t be long now!”
Even after we descended into the halls of jadedness, somewhere along the way to being teens, he forged ahead with his monkey tail question, ignoring our groans and eye-rolling like all good fathers do. Now, of course, we’d love nothing more than to hop into a car with him and drive 500 miles, just to hear him say it one more time. So he gets the last laugh, and trust me, that was always his life’s goal.
Here’s an old photo of him, a favorite of mine…
I miss that face. I miss that personality.
One small comfort, to me at least, is that Dad managed to embed that goofy monkey tail bit into our repertoire of family colloquialisms. To this day, anytime anyone has a big day or event approaching, someone invariably rattles off, “You know what the monkey said….” And we still roll our eyes (for old times’ sake) as we dutifully reply, “It won’t be long now!”
So here’s my life right now.
Let’s see, David graduates in May, right? Yep. You know what the monkey said. It won’t be long now.
And in August, he heads to OC? Yep. You know what the monkey said. It won’t be long now.
So your nest, well, it really will be empty then, right? Yep. You know what the monkey said. It won’t be long now.
I’m not enjoying this. I’m not enjoying this.
Have I mentioned that I’m not enjoying this?
Honestly, I thought it was going to be easier this time. Not EASY, mind you, just EASIER. I thought we were tired of parenting and ready for life’s next stage. I thought we could get through this particular Senior year unscathed. But it turns out we can’t. We’re SO not ready. Not for that last high school graduation, that last dinner around the table, that last bedroom to pack up.
But, ready or not, here it comes.
If you haven’t done this gig yet, and want to be surprised (or just live in denial), stop reading NOW. Seriously, this is your SPOILER ALERT!
My sister Sally (the wisest of us all) has identified the three most brutal moments you’ll experience when sending your kids off to college:
Number one is when you leave the house with them, for the last time.
Number two is when you say that final goodbye to them outside the dorm.
And as if that weren’t enough, number three is when you get home, and walk into your house without them for the FIRST time.
So there you have it. Your top three moments to dread…and survive. I’m sorry for going there, but I can’t help myself. I’m wallowing a little bit. I even found this double-whammy of a photo to post…my dad holding newborn David, 18 years ago…
So are there any happy thoughts here? Not really. Unless you count the quality education he’s signed up for. And I do count that, but right now I’m just sad.
Because you know what the monkey said.
Oops. In my last post, I left out a couple of my favorite photos from the graduation. I mean, look at this gem…
Yep, that’s one impressive photo bomb right there, being executed by OC President John deSteiguer.
And the girls in that shot? Well, those are just Emily’s roommates…and best friends. Back in my very first Leaving the Nest blog post, I talked about these girls. To quote myself…yes, I’m quoting MYSELF…I said, “I can’t wait until [Emily] meets those special girls who will become her lifelong friends.”
And well, she met them. Their names are Jordan, Kaitlyn, and Danielle. She made a few others dear friends, but these are the ones who loved her day in and day out, when she was at her very best and when she was at her very worst. They spent 3½ years laughing with her and at her, and inspiring and encouraging and supporting her. They celebrated with her in good times and propped her up in bad times. But most importantly, at least to me, they held her tightly and loved her deeply through several of her worst times.
How exactly do you thank the people who do that for your kids? I know I don’t have the words to say it properly. But this post is my tribute to them, and to college roommates everywhere who make it so we mothers can relax a bit, knowing our daughters aren’t alone.
One last shot of “the 207” at the graduation, sans the photo-bomber…
Incidentally, in honor of Emily’s big day, they all showed up in leopard print, which just happens to be my daughter’s fashion obsession. Which reminds me of a little scene that played out in Dillard’s one day recently, when she spied a pair of leopard print pants and exclaimed, “Oh, I neeeeeeed those.”
I felt compelled to ask, “Don’t you already have a pair of leopard print pants?”
To which she replied quite seriously, “Well…I only have one.”
Needless to say, she still only has one pair. As far as I know.
So okay, NEXT TIME we’ll talk about my poor, neglected middle child. Most likely.
Last November, OC Staffer Kerri Cunningham called me to ask if I’d lead the pledge of allegiance at OC’s graduation in December. I felt immediate angst of course. Was I coordinated enough to walk on stage without tripping? Would I remember the words to the pledge? And most importantly, could I avoid nervously giggling and embarrassing my graduating daughter? But I couldn’t very well admit all my insecurities to Kerri (even though I’ve known her all my life), and I was flattered that they’d even asked me. So I said yes.
And it was a lovely graduation. As it turned out, I remembered all the words and I managed not to trip or giggle (too much), even though I had to march in and out with the REAL dignitaries and sit on stage with them through the whole ceremony. And I convinced myself that I was fairly inconspicuous on that stage, amidst all those OC bigwigs in their flowing robes and other academic regalia. But then I saw this picture on the OC Facebook page.
Note to self: Next time you sit on a stage somewhere and want to be inconspicuous, wear a nice sober black sweater. NOT a garish red one.
Yeah, and I also figured no one would notice if I snapped a couple of pics from my front row seat. But then I ran across this on OC’s Facebook page…
Only slightly embarrassing. But the bottom line is, I was not about to pass on the opportunity to get some up close and personal shots of this occasion. I mean, compare that shot of the commissioning of 2nd Lieutenant Keith Dugan with mine…
Okay, so that one’s not so good. But seriously, I’m sure I was the only one to get this great shot of the Silver Dollar Salute from Naval Electricians Mate Jack Dugan,...
And here’s what most people saw when Dr. Baird was telling the graduates to use their power for good…
But this is what I saw, a guy talking about super heroes, and looking kind of like one himself…
The truth is, I intentionally busied myself with the photo-taking and the whole nervousness thing, so that I could keep at bay the fact that THIS was happening…
And I apologize for turning this post which should have been about Emily graduating from college, into a post about me. But as a defense mechanism, it’s working quite well.
So what’s next for these graduates? Internships? Graduate school? Real jobs? I’m sure it looks different for each of them, but watching the bright faces of all those graduates as they passed my seat on that stage, I was convinced that they were prepared to meet the world, and bring it some special shine.
As for Emily, three weeks after she was handed that faux-diploma (yes, they do that in college too), we put her on a plane to Zambia to spend a couple of months working at the Namwianga Mission. The plan is for her to return home early next month, and then commence with her official adult life. From where we sit this will entail a serious job hunt, but you never know. She’s always liked that Graham Colton song where he sings about diving into the great unknown and ripping out the pages and letting life unfold. So we are going to be interested in seeing where that mindset will take her.
Here’s a link to that song if you’re interested. One caveat: I heard it first in the context of a parent-child relationship, so it always makes me weepy. It might be better to give it a listen when you are NOT in the midst of life-changing events. :)
Next up…another big life event to report on, this one about Rachel, and coincidentally also involving Kerri Cunningham.
I am told that OC’s Lighting of the Commons is actually quite an UNcommon event. Of course I’ve never attended (thanks to having a real job and all) but every year I peruse the plethora of pictures (alliteration intended) of the event posted all over social media. And so I feel highly qualified to review and recommend the event. I understand the festive evening includes Christmas music, horse-drawn carriage rides, hot cocoa served in custom-made mugs (inspired by Vienna’s Rauthaus Christmas Market mugs, no less), and this year, even some glorious fireworks lighting up the clock tower sky.
But what I really want to focus on here are the Santa pics from the event. Because after someone sent me a link, I proceeded to spend a ridiculous amount of time viewing all 239 photos, most of which were of total strangers. I’m sure I did this because I was avoiding some real task in my life, but that’s neither here nor there. My point is I don’t know when I’ve been more entertained by a series of photos, and I felt the need to share a few in case you might have missed them. Almost every photo dazzled, so it was difficult to decide which would make the cut. But the following are a decent representative sample, in my humble opinion.
First, the pic that started it all, of my Watson and Roybal nieces and nephews (Santa looking only slightly overwhelmed)...
Next, I was fascinated by this typical college friend pic, with nephew David Paul posing in the snowman get-up…and Chaco’s. He’s a dear boy, but apparently doesn’t have a lick of sense…
This next one I like to call “Little Boy Blue Makes a Run for It”...
Can you say ADORABLE?
Next, we have a series of terribly, terribly, terribly, sweet pics…
And a few in the “Oh, hello Santa” category…
Next, we have a few awfully, awfully, awfully, sad pics…okay, and awfully, awfully, awfully funny as well…
Even sweet Jane (my great-niece) is apparently not a fan…
And in a category all his own, this precious little guy…
But enough of this merriment! I will be back shortly to fill you in on Emily’s graduation this coming Friday. If I survive it!
David, my youngest, celebrated his 18th birthday last Sunday. Which, of course, means my husband and I can quit worrying about a guardian for him in the event of our untimely demise. And it also means that he can now vote (thumbs up), smoke (thumbs down) and be drafted (yikes!). But best of all, at least to him, is that he can now sign himself out from the high school for lunch. Although ironically, I had to go to the high school office and sign a form saying he could…sign himself out. So yes, I found that mildly amusing.
As for the birthday itself, I believe David had five “parties” to celebrate the big event, only two of which he planned himself. Some might call throwing your own party presumptuous, but I like the fact that he feels free to say to friends, “It’s my birthday, let’s get together.” I think it’s sort of endearing, a part of his charm, if you will.
Of course, the boy does have his not-so-endearing qualities as well, and I would feel remiss if I didn’t list of few of them for you. For instance, he doesn’t eagerly volunteer to help me in the kitchen or his dad in the yard. He tends to spout opinions that aren’t exactly the same as mine. And he only seems to find time to crack open that expensive ACT prep book when bribery is involved. (Crazy, huh?)
So alas, he’s not perfect. I guess you might say he’s a real boy. Or maybe a real man/boy now that he’s 18. I don’t know.
What I do know is that he’s been pretty busy since becoming legal last Sunday.
First off, he registered to vote.
Second, he actually cracked open that ACT prep book.
And finally, for his pièce de résistance, he went online and submitted his application to Oklahoma Christian.
So okay then.
Two photos for you. One from today, registering to vote…
...and one from back in the days when he did yardwork without dragging his feet…