License to Grow Up

Blog soundtrack:



When I picked up Nathan today at 2pm, he walked around to the trunk and banged on it like he usually does. In case you didn’t know, that banging means "Open the trunk, Mom." Come to think of it, I don’t even think his banging has a “please” in it. I think this is because he was absent the day they taught "How to Bang the Word Please" in his “Way to Communicate with Your Parents Using Loud Noises and Face Contortions” class. I'm now convinced this class is a prerequisite for kids 2 to 18.

Of course, little does Nathan know that I, his mother, notice all these little things about him. As soon as I see him walking to the car, I press the Unlock Trunk icon on the Saab's driver side door. I don’t have the heart to tell him that his banging is wasted and redundant on the already opened trunk.

But, as I parent, I know how much kids love to create Loud Noises. Iz mastered Loud Noises* at only 6 years of age. Though, Nathan is a Loud Noise late bloomer. He only mastered Trunk Banging three years ago; and that’s probably as loud as he has ever gotten.

*Here are some of Iz's Greatest Commotions from her Loud Noise album: Chase kitten around the upstairs while wearing high-heeled boots, sprint down first floor hallway, a collaborative effort with the dog, which triggers Monty, who barks for a full 5 minutes after said sprint, and bang feet against the TV stand doors to keep time with any song sung by Miley Cyrus on “Hannah Montana.” She is so good, she could give Loud Noise lessons!

Nathan threw his backpack in the trunk, slammed (oh, he’s good at that loud noise too!) it shut, and then he climbed into the front passenger seat. I asked him how his day was. He said, “Okay.” I asked him if he got his mid-term grades yet. He said, “Okay.” I asked him if he remembered who I was. He said, “Okay.”

I was sensing some sort of conscious coma, so I then asked, “Need something to eat?”
He whipped his head around and finally looked at me, probably remembering where he was and who I was, and he then said, “Oh, yeah! I couldn’t find my wallet, so I didn’t have lunch.”
I then asked, “Subway?” (This is his favorite.)
He said, “Yes!” while thoughts of that turkey sub kept his empty stomach on life support.
He then blurted out, “I love you.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Hey, I’ll take it even if I had to dangle a turkey sub in front of his nose to get it!

When we arrived at Subway, I asked him how much money he needed. He told me $10 would be fine. I kidded him about it being a small fortune for a sandwich. (Of course, I forgot that Nathan would get a large sub, a large soda, and a large bag of chips.) Nathan said, “Well, Mom!” I kiddingly said, “That’s $10 less for college, Nathan.”

As he went to get out the car door, he turned and said, “Oh. I forgot.” Then I heard what every parent longs to hear their child say. (No, it’s not “I got into Harvard,” “I don’t need to borrow any money,” or “I’m going to spend a few hours cleaning my room.”)

Nathan said, “I can make my road test appointment for my license after this Thursday.” Shocked, I asked, “Really?! Are you sure you’ve done all the required driving and observations?” He said, “Yes. Tony said I’m done.”

Excuse me for a moment…

Woooooooo-hoooooo!
Champagne anyone?!

As you recall, it’s been a long drive to the road test. Last February, I taught Nathan and Connor how to drive, and then I took Nathan to get his permit. By all accounts, Nathan could have gotten his license in August; however, soccer got in the way in the Fall, and I think Nathan lost his drive (oh, of course, pun intended!), too. And, I know he wasn’t looking forward to driving his car, a big red Suburban, which I liked to call “Big Red.”

I then said frantically, “Well, I’ve got to go to the registry and pre-pay your driving test. Then, I’ve got to call Tony and ask if he’ll sponsor you, and then…” Before I could get the next Get-Nathan-in-the-Driver’s-Seat task out of my mouth, Nathan said a tad perturbed, “Mom. We can’t do anything until Thursday.” (Yeah, well, I'm sorry, but I'm a planner, unlike all of the men in my life!)

Nathan didn’t know how long I had waited for this moment. It was about as long as I had waited for one of my favorite discontinued perfumes, Monsoon, to be reinstated. (And, what was up with that, Coty?! Believe it or not, there’s a Bring Back Monsoon Perfume Facebook page; no, I didn’t start it, but I should have!) Anyway, I then said, reminded by the thrilling and mandatory two-hour parent driving class I had to take last week in order for Nathan to get his license, “Oh, it takes a bit for the registry to receive your driver’s education certificate, doesn’t it?” He shook his head up and down.

He headed off into Subway. As I watched my 6’3” boy walk away, I realized that no matter how much I looked forward to this day, the thought of him going to the Junior Prom, getting his license, going off to college in a year and a half, and becoming a young man somehow rattled me. I wanted him to grow older, but I wanted him to stay with me...always. And, all these events would begin to lead him away from me and rightfully so to his own life.

When we got home, Nathan mentioned again that he really might like to go to McGill University; they had a Marine Biology major. I was hoping he was still leaning toward UMASS, because it was so very affordable. I asked, “How much is that?”

He said from his perch atop his bed with his X-box controller in his hand and his kitten, Plume, at his side, “Go to www.collegeboard.com.” I did, and I clicked the tuition link. It looked like his Dad and I, given what we saved so far, could finance 2 or 3 years.

I found it rather odd that tuition was 9K to 14K depending on his major. Was it 9K for English and 14K for Geophysics and Seismology? Because, you know, everyone treats English likes it's birdwatching and Geophysics and Seismology like it's professional football!

I said, “It’s so far away.”
Nathan said, “Mom, it’s only six hours.”
I said, “I’m used to you being here or 16 minutes away, not six hours.”
Nathan said, “It’s six hours, Mom. That’s all. I can drive there!”
I said, “Yeah, well, you can drive there if you get your license.”
Just then, I'm sure that Nathan, even though I couldn't see him, gave me one of those Face Contortions; yeah, I so deserved it.

As I perused the sports, I said, “Whoa. Inner tube water polo!”
Nathan said, “I approve.”
I then read off a few of the courses required for the Marine Biology degree.
“Ichthyology? The study of fish!” (I have to admit; it sounded pretty interesting. I had wanted to be a marine biologist, too, when I was a sophomore in high school.)
Nathan said, “Cool!”
I then said, “Phycology? The study of algae!”
This was greeted by another “Cool!”
I had momentarily forgotten how much Nathan loved to fish and tie flies just like his Dad.

I sighed. All this growing up was inevitable. I knew that. It would seem you spend years wanting them to grow up (sleep through the night, eat solid food, toilet train, learn to read and write and so on); however, when they do, you just want them to be little again. Is this some kind of parental Murphy's Law connundrum or what?

Nathan came out of his room, came over to my desk, and said, “You’re still looking at that?”
I said almost in tears, “I will miss you so much when you go away to school.”
Nathan hugged me and said again, “Mom, it’s only six hours!”
I laughed.
And then I thought, “Wherever he goes in life, I just hope he’s happy and safe.”

Sometimes I thought I was crazy for having a baby when I was 41; however, most of the time, I know how blessed I am. When Nathan’s off having the time of his life playing inner tube water polo and learning about Staghorn algae, I will be fortunate enough to still have my girl, Iz, at my side. And today, my heart said to Nathan, like your big red Suburban, long may you run, my beautiful baby boy, even if it’s only six hours to Canada. ♥