Spending today with Zack working on college stuff–This morning we shopped at the mall for clothes to wear on his interviews/auditions; this afternoon we’re going to work through the University of California applications due end of this month and make a schedule of how he’ll get them done on time.
Half the schools Zack is applying to are in Cali; the others are in the Midwest. If someone had told me a year ago that my sons first choice schools might be in Indiana, I would have laughed, but it seems to be trending that way- Indiana and Butler are both very high on the list for him, as as University of Southern California, much closer to home.
At Express, which is what they’ve renamed Structure (now it’s the guys store) the young-20s saleswoman asked me if I felt sad my son was going off to college. I said I felt said sometimes, but that I felt mostly happy about it (which is true most of the time.)
“Oh, my husband’s youngest brother is just turning 18 and leaving home and his mom is so busted up about it,” she said. “She’s heartbroken.”
(Note: Nothing makes you feel old like being innocently compared to someone’s mother—the only comments more tactless are “Didn’t you want anymore children?” and “Oh, when is your baby due?” (To someone who’s not pregnant, natch.)
Anyway, we got through the shopping without any crab attacks, and in a few minutes will jump into the applications, a process so tedious it is a true test of parental love.
Spending today with Zack working on college stuff–This morning we shopped at the mall for clothes to wear on his interviews/auditions; this afternoon we’re going to work through the University of California applications due end of this month and make a schedule of how he’ll get them done on time.
Half the schools Zack is applying to are in Cali; the others are in the Midwest. If someone had told me a year ago that my sons first choice schools might be in Indiana, I would have laughed, but it seems to be trending that way- Indiana and Butler are both very high on the list for him, as as University of Southern California, much closer to home.
At Express, which is what they’ve renamed Structure (now it’s the guys store) the young-20s saleswoman asked me if I felt sad my son was going off to college. I said I felt said sometimes, but that I felt mostly happy about it (which is true most of the time.)
“Oh, my husband’s youngest brother is just turning 18 and leaving home and his mom is so busted up about it,” she said. “She’s heartbroken.”
(Note: Nothing makes you feel old like being innocently compared to someone’s mother—the only comments more tactless are “Didn’t you want anymore children?” and “Oh, when is your baby due?” (To someone who’s not pregnant, natch.)
Anyway, we got through the shopping without any crab attacks, and in a few minutes will jump into the applications, a process so tedious it is a true test of parental love.