Where's My Baby Bird ?

It is surreal when your youngest leaves the nest. I am running to the park on Sunday, I am going to pick up the dog from the kennel on Monday, I am going to Starbucks on Tuesday and it’s as if I live in a different city. I don’t recognize anything. It all feels so different knowing that somewhere in these two zip codes, Melanie is not being Melanie. They don’t teach you any of this in parent school. Sure, they cover the basics, diapering, yelling, leverage techniques and most important, tranquility through television. But they never cover what is feels like when the youngest bolts out of town and leaves you holding a bag full of incredible memories.

I am grateful that Melanie did not cry when her mom and I left her at the dorms in Santa Cruz. Her happiness and excitement were overriding what I am sure were crushing feelings of sadness at leaving her beloved parents. You notice they do cover denial in parent school, it’s the first day actually.

I was hanging out in the parking lot at the university as the designated car watcher. During the drop off and unload your kid at the dorms phase of the weekend, somebody had to be with the car at all times; I guess the cars sometimes wonder off at SC. Anyway, I strike up a conversation with a fellow parent, tethered to her car, and she tells me her daughter was “jumping out of her skin” on the drive up. That made me feel better. It wasn’t just my daughter who was so excited to be off and on her own and smiling ear to ear. “See ya mom, see ya dad, later” not an exact quote, but not far off.

Parent School, Day 3, Lesson 5. Take credit for anything you possibly can, no matter how remote. I guess we raised her right if she is strong enough and confident enough to soar right out of the nest without looking down. I know it’s a stretch, and the more likely explanation is it’s just Melanie, being Melanie. And for that I am very grateful.