My baby leaves for college tomorrow. It’s been a rough few months. He’s been less than gracious in his attitude, and it makes me want to SCREAM. Yet he’s my son, and I adore him, and I tend to go overboard to try to smooth things over. This upsets Mr. P to no end. Which causes the cycle to go around and around and around.
Son #1 has always been VERY demanding, strong willed and difficult. He also can be loving and understanding. He’s funny and handsome. For whatever reason, he feels he’s entitled, and there’s no making him understand our point of view. Our family has gone overboard in their quest to make his transition from a teen living at home, to a young man entering college a smooth one. His grandparents have purchased nearly EVERYTHING he needs to set up his dorm room……….we’ve bought a refrigerator and all his life necessities. Yet, he’s balking at the task of cleaning his room and clearing out the 9 or 10 baskets of LAUNDRY that he has scattered around his tiny little room. His room will remain his, but I want the room to be neat and orderly so we don’t have to keep the door shut all the time.
I want guests to sleep there (should we ever have any), and I want him to have a cozy, CLEAN place he can come to when he returns home. He swears it will be done, but he’s not moving an inch to work on it, so the frustration is mounting. All he cares about is partying and making sure his move is bought and paid for. By us. Our effort. Our money. And our time. He doesn’t want to give anything or show any appreciation. It’s a vicious, ugly circle right now.
Then yesterday, I went for a pedicure, and had a good one for once. The little girl actually used one of those razor things on my heels to scrape all the dead skin from them. The foot and leg massage were quite lovely, and my purple toenails are so cute. I have tiny stubby toes, with tiny stubby toenails. My feet are very small—as in short. But they are chubby and I have a high instep, so shoes are a bitch for me to find. A high instep, double wide size 6? It ain’t happening.
The little girl doing the pedicure looked at me and immediately suggested I get my brows waxed…..nice. Is it a sales pitch or are my gnarly brows really THAT bad? I suspect it’s an even combination of the two. After my toes were done, I went into the BACK room for my brow waxing. I laid on a table, where the female version of Tony Soprano took hold of my forehead and whipped my head around like nobody’s business. Commenting “oh wow” when I was laid back for a good view. She roughly applied the wax and put so much pressure on the fabric strips, that I thought most certainly my eyeballs would pop out of the socket! Amidst the flurry of head and neck whipping to rid my face of rogue eyebrow hair, she muttered “LIP?” while she was ripping hair out of my brows. I declined. I can’t decide if I’m THAT hairy, or if these people were into sales in a MAJOR way? She managed to wax my brows, and give me a mirror for a short peek in a span of ……oh, I don’t know……3 minutes? No Joke……it was the quickest brow wax EVER!!!!!! All in all, it wasn’t a bad job, either………but she was a LITTLE rough.
Mr. P and I then went to the NEW Wal-Mart Supercenter to buy son #1’s stuff for his new life. Son #1, of course, didn’t want to join us. We wandered around and around that store trying to no overbuy…which for us is a difficult task. Mr. Entitlement had called ‘dibs’ on the hair cutting clippers that we have. He keeps his hair cropped short----and just assumed that he’d get the clippers. Not thinking or caring that Mr. P, who also keep his hair cropped short, may need them as well. So, Mr. P just bought himself a new set in a nice carrying case. Son #1 can have the old ones…..that have all the pieces scattered in a shoe box.
We then went home and had frozen pizza and watched the exciting episode of ‘Big Brother’ on CBS. I’m a reality show junkie……and Big Brother is one of my favorites……unfortunately. I tried to pick up some of the trash littering son “#1’s room, but got bored quickly of that task and quit.
I realize much of my stress is self imposed. I want everything to be ‘perfect’ and I want my son, Beaver, to happily skip off to school, and want his mom to help him get all set up in his room….to help him buy books, and then go out to dinner and have a lovely send off for his high achieving goals to be reached in college.
Instead, it’s a scene from a bad teen movie. Harried parents trying to please angst-ridden son who JUST WANTS THEM TO LEAVE ALREADY…so he can find the first and nearest PARTAY……forget dinner, forget cute bedding sets…and stocking his brand new fridge..JUST LEAVE SO HE CAN GET DRUNK!!!!!!!!!! Don’t tell him how to prevent swine flu……..he wants to get with his new found dorm buddies and discuss hangover remedies!!
I’m sad, nervous and quite anxious over this endeavor. Wish me luck, and if anyone wants to come help with the move, and to corral an angst ridden teen who thinks his parents are lame…..come on. We could use the help.
Happy Friday……………we’ll see how mom survives today…..Friday…her FAVORITE day (normally).
Toodles for now.