Where did the time go?
For all you parents dropping off your children (of all ages) at school this week… an excerpt from More Work Than a Puppy (or what your mother never told you about procreation). I was told by the mother of a university-aged daughter that I’d missed an important demographic. I added this particular monologue in 2005 with a few revisions this past spring. Keep a tissue handy…
I’m dropping
her off at university today. And as
we’re driving there I hope that I haven’t screwed up. Have I given her the right values? Will she make the right choices? Will she ever need me the way she did before
this day?
Home movie
flashbacks fill my head. She was so
accident prone. At two, she was riding one
of those springy horses in the playground.
Giggling and smiling – until her hands slipped and her chin went down on
the handle and I’m looking at her chin bone.
My two year old’s chin bone is visible, and I’ve gone to that calm
maternal place where I have to be in control and make sure that she doesn’t
panic—but her chin bone is showing—but I still smile and tell her everything
will be okay… And as her arms encircle my neck, she doesn’t even realize that she’s
bleeding.
flashbacks fill my head. She was so
accident prone. At two, she was riding one
of those springy horses in the playground.
Giggling and smiling – until her hands slipped and her chin went down on
the handle and I’m looking at her chin bone.
My two year old’s chin bone is visible, and I’ve gone to that calm
maternal place where I have to be in control and make sure that she doesn’t
panic—but her chin bone is showing—but I still smile and tell her everything
will be okay… And as her arms encircle my neck, she doesn’t even realize that she’s
bleeding.
Then she’s 4,
playing with her friend on the concrete stoop across the street. She’s wearing a red nylon jacket with a hood,
you know the ones – that have that soft white flannel inside? She’s swinging from her knees on the metal
railing and in slow motion I see her fall – on her head – on the concrete. In the 5 seconds that it takes me to reach
the other side of the street, the white flannel of the inside of her hood has
turned literally blood red. The doctor
says that it it’s a cut no bigger than the tip of her baby finger. But to me, at that moment, her brains were
probably seeping out into the hood. So I tie the strings tight around her chin
to make sure that no brains fall out.
playing with her friend on the concrete stoop across the street. She’s wearing a red nylon jacket with a hood,
you know the ones – that have that soft white flannel inside? She’s swinging from her knees on the metal
railing and in slow motion I see her fall – on her head – on the concrete. In the 5 seconds that it takes me to reach
the other side of the street, the white flannel of the inside of her hood has
turned literally blood red. The doctor
says that it it’s a cut no bigger than the tip of her baby finger. But to me, at that moment, her brains were
probably seeping out into the hood. So I tie the strings tight around her chin
to make sure that no brains fall out.
At 11 she
falls through our glass table in the rec. room. (She’s trying to jump over it after using the
couch as a trampoline.) I hear this
crash from the basement and fly down the stairs even before I hear the crying.
She’s lying there in the middle of transparent shrapnel – her left leg bloody
from the knee down. And as she reaches
for me, she’s saying “Mummy – Mummy, I broke the table. I’m sorry.”
She hadn’t called me Mummy since she was 6.
falls through our glass table in the rec. room. (She’s trying to jump over it after using the
couch as a trampoline.) I hear this
crash from the basement and fly down the stairs even before I hear the crying.
She’s lying there in the middle of transparent shrapnel – her left leg bloody
from the knee down. And as she reaches
for me, she’s saying “Mummy – Mummy, I broke the table. I’m sorry.”
She hadn’t called me Mummy since she was 6.
I look at the
young woman she is now. She’s 18. So self-assured… and right about absolutely
everything. Everything’s black and white
for her – there are no Fifty Shades of Grey for her.
young woman she is now. She’s 18. So self-assured… and right about absolutely
everything. Everything’s black and white
for her – there are no Fifty Shades of Grey for her.
Have I told
her everything she needs to face the world?
“DON’T DO DRUGS!”
She looks at
me.
“I mean, don’t do the bad drugs. Organic is okay. Stick to organic… Don’t do acid! Oh God, do they even DO acid
now? Is it Ecstasy now? DON’T DO THAT!! … Pot’s fine – it’s great with sex… OH!! USE
CONDOMS! – I know you’re on the pill, but use condoms – PROMISE ME YOU’LL USE
CONDOMS! … And act crazy on the bus if
you’re riding late at night. If you act
crazy on the bus, people will stay away.”
her everything she needs to face the world?
“DON’T DO DRUGS!”
She looks at
me.
“I mean, don’t do the bad drugs. Organic is okay. Stick to organic… Don’t do acid! Oh God, do they even DO acid
now? Is it Ecstasy now? DON’T DO THAT!! … Pot’s fine – it’s great with sex… OH!! USE
CONDOMS! – I know you’re on the pill, but use condoms – PROMISE ME YOU’LL USE
CONDOMS! … And act crazy on the bus if
you’re riding late at night. If you act
crazy on the bus, people will stay away.”
We pull up at
her dorm. She had the option to go to
Trent, but she wanted Queens. What the
hell has Queens got that Trent doesn’t?
Besides all the good stuff? The
reputation stuff. Everyone knows that a
reputation can be totally wrong.
Reputations are like rumors. Who
started this one? Queens isn’t so great.
It’s 2 hours and 8 minutes away according to the Google Maps. What if something happens to her? It’ll take me 2 hours and 8 minutes to get to
her!!
her dorm. She had the option to go to
Trent, but she wanted Queens. What the
hell has Queens got that Trent doesn’t?
Besides all the good stuff? The
reputation stuff. Everyone knows that a
reputation can be totally wrong.
Reputations are like rumors. Who
started this one? Queens isn’t so great.
It’s 2 hours and 8 minutes away according to the Google Maps. What if something happens to her? It’ll take me 2 hours and 8 minutes to get to
her!!
If she had
gone to Trent, she could have lived at home.
She’d be getting free food with me.
I’d make sure that she was eating balanced meals. I would do her laundry. I’d even fold it and everything! She’s going to be living in a dorm. With other kids, and I don’t know these
kids. These kids will be a bad
influence. They’ll lead her into stuff. Bad stuff.
If she stays at a dorm, her life will go to hell. She’ll hang out with the wrong crowd. What if they turn out to be small-minded and
prejudiced? We always took her into
Toronto once a month so that she could see that there was more to life than
small-town white-bread people. We had
dinner in Little India, we went to Chinatown.
She knew that there were different colours of skin. Does Kingston have a Chinatown? Or is it going to be one Chinese restaurant
that serves bad fried rice?
gone to Trent, she could have lived at home.
She’d be getting free food with me.
I’d make sure that she was eating balanced meals. I would do her laundry. I’d even fold it and everything! She’s going to be living in a dorm. With other kids, and I don’t know these
kids. These kids will be a bad
influence. They’ll lead her into stuff. Bad stuff.
If she stays at a dorm, her life will go to hell. She’ll hang out with the wrong crowd. What if they turn out to be small-minded and
prejudiced? We always took her into
Toronto once a month so that she could see that there was more to life than
small-town white-bread people. We had
dinner in Little India, we went to Chinatown.
She knew that there were different colours of skin. Does Kingston have a Chinatown? Or is it going to be one Chinese restaurant
that serves bad fried rice?
I’m trying so
hard to be the cool Mom who can let her go and trust that she’ll make the right
choices. I wonder if she knows I’m
faking it. I’ve been crying myself to
sleep for the last six nights.
hard to be the cool Mom who can let her go and trust that she’ll make the right
choices. I wonder if she knows I’m
faking it. I’ve been crying myself to
sleep for the last six nights.
God, what am
I thinking? She’s not dumb. She’s never been prone to peer pressure. What, she’s going to stop using her brain
now? Now that she’s been accepted to
Queens with a 93 average? If I were a
sane, rational mother I would know that she’s going to be fine. I would know that. But she’s my baby. I breastfed her and snuggled her and scared
away the dragons from under her bed.
I thinking? She’s not dumb. She’s never been prone to peer pressure. What, she’s going to stop using her brain
now? Now that she’s been accepted to
Queens with a 93 average? If I were a
sane, rational mother I would know that she’s going to be fine. I would know that. But she’s my baby. I breastfed her and snuggled her and scared
away the dragons from under her bed.
How did 18
years go by so quickly? In my head she’s
still 5 years old, ringing the doorbell, wearing her little yellow duck boots –
completely covered in mud – and she’s holding a bouquet of dandelions that she
picked especially for me.
years go by so quickly? In my head she’s
still 5 years old, ringing the doorbell, wearing her little yellow duck boots –
completely covered in mud – and she’s holding a bouquet of dandelions that she
picked especially for me.
I feel like
I’m leaving that 5 year old on the curb with her suitcase in hand – not this
woman who is ready to start her own life.
She’s following her own yellow brick road, and I’m Glinda the Good Witch… just pointing her in the right direction.
And she’ll be okay. She smiles as
she waves to me. I start to drive before I cry. As I’m pulling away, she
runs up to my window and knocks on the glass.
I roll it down and she gives me a great big, wet, sloppy
kiss. And then she says: “Don’t worry Mom, I’ve got my ruby slippers.”
I’m leaving that 5 year old on the curb with her suitcase in hand – not this
woman who is ready to start her own life.
She’s following her own yellow brick road, and I’m Glinda the Good Witch… just pointing her in the right direction.
And she’ll be okay. She smiles as
she waves to me. I start to drive before I cry. As I’m pulling away, she
runs up to my window and knocks on the glass.
I roll it down and she gives me a great big, wet, sloppy
kiss. And then she says: “Don’t worry Mom, I’ve got my ruby slippers.”
© Heather Jopling 2005, 2013
I never felt really "grown up", even "old", until I took my own daughter to her university dorm the first time. It was only the day before that I had moved in in my first year.