Nathan is leaving tomorrow for nine days in Europe. It’s not his first time abroad, so I’m not that worried. He traveled to Italy when he was 9 and to the UK when he was 10.
Of course, Iz is still trying to understand why Nathan gets to go on a trip and she doesn’t; she knew that she went to Italy in my tummy, yet she can’t help feel ripped off that she actually didn’t get to enjoy the trip as an out of body experience. This morning, she asked if she could go to Paris soon “outside my tummy,” and I said, “Hey, what about those horseback riding lessons, Iz?”
Nathan was prepared for his trip. He packed, he had his Hungarian forints, and most importantly, he was ready to leave home and his dishwashing job behind. I could see when he left last night, he was only looking forward and not back at his X-box, his kitten, Plume, or at his bowl of M&Ms in his new glass swan bowl.
I had installed Skype, so we could chat; however, the only thing that bothered me was that the wireless on his laptop was not working. This occurred shortly after Dell replaced his LCD. Since I spent about 40 minutes on the phone the last time, I figured that Nathan should do the time to get his wireless fixed, which he did.
I came home one night, and he said, “That woman was great!” I said, “Excuse me?” He said, “The woman at Dell tech support helped me fix my wireless,” though within days, like most new and sudden relationships, his adoration faded and plummeted when he said, “My wireless doesn’t work anymore.”
Knowing that I now had a job and that Nathan was 17, I said, “Call Dell technical support again.” He said he would, and when I came home from work last week, I practically killed myself almost tripping over the Ethernet cable strewn between Nathan’s room and the router under my desk in the hallway. Peeved, I asked, “Did you call Dell?”
He said, “I spent like 5 hours on hold.” Thank goodness, parenthood gives you subtitles. I read, “I spent 5 hours playing X-box, so I didn’t call.”
This morning, while at work, my IM blinked. It was Nathan saying, “Merf” whatever that meant; I responded with the obligatory, “Blarg” whatever that meant. After silliness, my parent side kicked in and said, “Call Dell tech support.” Nathan responded with “Ultimate Frisbee> Dell tech support.”
Tonight, I called Nathan to give him my Skype username. I heard all this yelling in the background; he was at his friend's house. I ended the conversation by saying, "I'll miss you, and I love you." Just then I heard several young male voices saying, "Ohhhhhhh. Ahhhhhh." Note to Nathan: Never put your Mom on speaker phone when you're with your friends!
When you’re a parent, you reach a point when you have to let go in certain respects. I knew Nathan was responsible and level-headed, and he’d do fine traveling on this trip. But, I also knew he needed to take control of things that I couldn’t do for him anymore; I couldn’t always be there to fix his wireless connection, wash his work shorts and shirt, or change his sheets. He’d learn this someday, but no matter what, I’d always love him, worry about him, be there for him, and miss him for the next 9 days. “Go on and go free,” Baby. ♥
End blog soundtrack:
No comments:
Post a Comment