I may have mentioned already (about 600 times) that my son is leaving for college soon. It's not that I'm overly excited about his leaving, but I knew this day was coming and that I'd be a swinging single again, and I prepared for it.
Talking with the ladies in knitting class I announced what I know is going to be my new life. Like on television when the folks come home and pour themselves a glass of wine while they prepare dinner, that is going to be me. With variations, of course.
I will come home from work, head for the shower and slip into something more comfortable (the $12.99 K Mart cotton house dress). I'll slip into my comfortable slippers (flip flops from the 99 cent store) and I will sail downstairs to make myself a fancy dinner (Chunky Soup). I will pour my glass (grape jelly jar) of (Boone's Farm Pink) wine and I will settle in my (rarely used by me) living room on the sofa with my (rot gut) wine, some knitting and watch television while my dinner cooks.
And when the fire department shows up at 10p to put the fire out (soup burned), they will find me clutching the bottle of wine and muttering about my 'new life'.
In real life, I don't drink and my bedtime is 10p. I've been a shining example of a parent for the past 18 years and college is the turning point. For my son it's that place in between living home and visiting home, between parenting and and being a parent. I'm going to have to adjust.
And truly, when you have only one child and 99% of your existence is mothering what do you do? I think I might start following the cat around the house trying to figure out how I can mother her. I might be reduced to putting her every move on video and forcing her to wear clothes I made just for her. I'd better prepare Miss Kitty for her new life as well.
Some new life, eh?
I'd better start arranging to have people come check on me. Yikes! If I don't start defining myself in some other way because if no one does, someone will catch me trying to rig the TV antenna in the window to see if I can communicate with alien life.