Gone.
Without a word of a lie, watching Amanda walk away was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It’s a strange phase of mothering I think, this part where you have to let them go, right when they are old enough to get up to the sort of no-good that makes you want to keep them close by.
I didn’t cry (loudly) and I didn’t make a scene, and for the record, neither did she. We arrived at the airport, checked her in, and waited until she was through security and out of reach and sight before leaving. I watched her go and tried not to yell stupid embarrassing things at her disappearing back. Things like “I’ll wait right here” and “Don’t go”. That was at 5, (flight at 6:30) and Joe and Kelly (who works at the airport) convinced me that hanging around the airport waiting for the flight to leave, even though we couldn’t be with her was silly. I came home where at least she could phone me. I hovered around the house, knitting, feeling odd and out of place and busying myself with stuffing the compulsion to run back to the airport and save her from the big world, way down. At 6:11 Kelly phoned to say that Amanda’s bum was in her seat. I went and took a bath. I lay there in, listening to the planes going overhead and wondering which one she was on. Was it that one? That one? That ones engine sounded funny. Maybe I should call someone? Tell them that my child, the one I have invested 16 years of my life in, is on a plane right now and that I think it flew over my house just this minute and that the engine sounds a little off and maybe they could just radio the plane and ask the pilot if everything is ok? Just get him to check.
I felt ok while she was in the air, her flight landed at 3am our time (9am her time…HER TIME. My child is in another time zone. I’m dizzy.) and I started waiting for her to call.
She didn’t. Not all day Sunday.
I don’t understand the cruel tearing of motherhood. I often say that mothering is a unique occupation, and the only one in which you are trying to put yourself out of business. The whole idea of it is to spend whole decades trying to create (in the most labour intensive way possible) a whole new human being who doesn’t need you. It’s ironic that in the beginning, being a good mother is about carrying them with you, staying nearby, rocking, walking…keeping close and never letting them out of your sight, and then suddenly you have this whole almost adult person and being a good mother is suddenly about standing back and letting them just walk away and worse than that…pushing them to do it and then hanging around the house afraid to go buy milk because they might phone… It’s horrible.
I keep looking at this picture of her. Every time I think about getting on a plane and going to Austria and just showing up at the hotel I look at this. (Imagine that? Amanda comes back from a concert and I’m just sitting on the edge of the bed. All I say is “You didn’t call”.) She’s drinking tea and somehow that means something, doesn’t it? It’s not a sippy cup, she’s not drinking apple juice. She’s a young woman, and there’s really no difference between allowing caffeine and allowing a trip to Europe. Right? I’m knitting like a fiend and engaging in my new hobby, which is clutching her itinerary and imagining where she is at this moment. It goes perfectly with Sam’s new hobby, which is telling everyone in the family what time it is in Austria. Still no call.
I snapped on Sunday afternoon and called her, I felt nauseous when the man who answered the phone at the hotel said “Guten tag” (What have I done?). She’s fine. She loves it. Austria is beautiful. I didn’t say any of the things in my head. None of them. I didn’t say “be careful” and “watch out” and “are you ok”. I have to believe that my instincts are such that I wouldn’t have sent her if I didn’t think she could do it. I said “Have fun” “see everything” and “take pictures”. I got a little loose at the end and said “I miss you” but she didn’t say it back, I’m taking that as a sign that I’m doing my job and making a person who doesn’t need me. Eyes on the prize. I’m knitting.
Oh, I am going to have such a hard time when my girls get older…right now I go crazy because I am with them all the time, but I know there will be a day when I won’t be with them, and that’s probably worse! Hang in there, she’ll do great, and so will you. 😉
And as a distraction…we haven’t seen the back of your house lately.
Great, now I’m weeping into my yogurt. Tonight I’m going home to read every single book my kids, 3 and 5, put in my lap. Thanks for the perspective.
My parents watched all 3 of us take off overseas — I was the first, off to 6 months in China. When it came the ‘baby’s’ turn, they were very familiar with the long, drawn-out sigh made by a child about to board the plane.
Ironic, isn’t it? I am really hoping (really, really) there is something left of me when my sons grow up and move out. They seem to take all I have most days, though! My thoughts and prayers are with you (both). I am a lurker and reader and seldom post, but this time, I thought maybe I should.
You have such a beautiful daughter! Your post just made me want to call my mommy… oh, I mean my mother.
I’m proud to know you, Stephanie! You did great, and Amanda is going to be all the better for it.
hang in there….in the end they all need their mother..we have been there for everything good in their life…don’t worry she does miss you she is just seeing what freedom is all about.
I would call my mother, except she’s off on vacation in Italy. I’m going through Harlottude in Reverse!
Hang in there! Sounds like you’ve done a fantastic job. I remember sitting and talking with my mom when I was visiting from college and she said that it was so much fun for her to see my sister and me turning into our very own people. Not offshoot-of-Mom, or some other label, but proto-adults. (I say proto-adults because, well, I look back at myself at 18 and cringe.)
If I may venture a humble and respectful opinon from the Kid side, you have done the right thing.
I have wondeful parents whom I love dearly. But I still haven’t forgotten being admitted (expenses paid) to a summer workshop with a famous novelist, then being not allowed to go because at 16 they considered me too young to be away from home. They were just afraid Something Might Happen to Me. A growth opportunity missed, never to be made up.
You, on the other hand, have allowed your daughter a little rope, and if I know Vienna (and I do) when Something Happens to Her it will be something quite wonderful, and she will never forget that you let her do it.
I’m glad she’s loving it, and the only advice I would offer is to pig out on Viennese sweets at every possible opportunity, particularly the ice cream shop on the Schwedenplatz.
I’ve been enjoying your blog for a long while – thank you so much.
When my son was little and we would visit the playground, I would gently “push” or encourage him to go make friends with the kid in the sand box or ask someone to play. I wouldn’t do it for him, I would just say: “I’m right here. You go over and talk to him/her and if you get scared I am right here. Go ahead.”
He learned early on that he could go and take chances because I would be there IF he needed someone to watch his back. Now he’s a fiercely independent 11-year-old who shocks adults with his grown-up attitude and derring-do. My goddess, he can evern articulately order a meal at a restaurant, with “thank yous” to the server at the end!
I’ve created a monster.
Stephanie, I am dripping tears on my mouse pad. My daughter went off to Europe 20 months ago on a choir trip, when she was 17, and I felt exactly the same way. I stayed up till 2:00 a.m. checking FlightTracker every few minutes to see where the plane was and if it would be landing on time. I checked her itinerary several times a day so I’d know what she was doing at that moment. She came back 10 pounds lighter, much more poised and confident, having drunk wine in Paris and beer in Switzerland (because the drinking age is lower in Europe), with hundreds of pictures, and a marvelous new attitude. It was hard to watch her go, but it was worth it. And she has incredible memories!
Having just stressed out hugely over my 8 year old daughter’s first piano recital this weekend, I don’t know if I am made of strong enough stuff to deal with my kids as teens! Yikes!! I have to keep reminding myself that I can’t always lay a smooth path in front of my kids, shielding them from all hurts in the world.
Thanks for the inspiring post!
You have absolutely done the right thing. My supervisor at my psychology internship used to always say “If you raise your kids right, they grow up and go away.” You are being a kick ass mom letting her have this opportunity. She will never forget it (and neither will you, I venture!).
Geez, and I though playing unattended in a fenced back yard was tough…
Sniff. You are a wonderful mother. My wonderful mother let me climb mountains in Nepal at 17, let my brother go on choir trips halfway around the world at 16. We were fine and all the better human beings for it! Your daughter appreciates this gift you are giving her, the gift of letting go, the gift of letting her become Her Self.
I’m 7 months pregnant, tears dripping on my big ol’ belly, hoping and praying that I can try to be as good a Mom as you are! Hugs to you.
Amanda is SUCH a lucky young woman! What a mom you are…
But I can’t talk now, I have to go finish this good cry you’ve provoked.
Waaaah. As usual, we the readers SO touch my heart (or funny-bone). I went away at 16 for a year, before cell-phones and cheap overseas rates, so the parents didn’t hear from me for a week or more after I left. Yikes! My daughter went away for a week at age 6 with my mom and sent me a postcard – “I miss you so much”, and then she was home with great stories. I still want them to live with me forever. They are so good, and competent, and loving, generous girls, um, women. No cats will ever replace them.
Ditto Katy about the back of your house.
At 15 I went to England and Scotland with school then at 16 to France, Italy and Switzerland. An airport shuttle was part of the package so all the goodbyes were said in the school parking lot rather than the airport.
Both trips were amazing I felt very grown up and sophisticated. Then we found out that the chaperones could be stricter than our own parents.
Hope Sam has a great time and maybe she’ll blog about it!
I went on my first orchestra tour at 16, to Europe (the UK and Paris; we didn’t hit Vienna until my *next* orchestra tour, at age 18). It was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life, to be experiencing a different culture and different language (supposedly, everyone in both the US and the UK speaks English. I have my doubts), to be playing music in fantastic concert halls, and to be doing all of this in the company of my musician friends. I admit, I was horrible about keeping in contact with my parents while on the trip. There was so much to do and see, and so little time… plus, the time change made it difficult. I was thinking of them, and taking tons of pictures to show them, but phone calls didn’t happen. When I got home, Mom&Dad got the full blow-by-blow description of the trip, with photos and color commentary. Reading your post, I suspect they might have appreciated a few more calls *during* the trip, though 🙂
Anyway, I suspect that Amanda is having the time of her life, and that she is thinking of you even when she isn’t calling.
Heh, when I read the part about your new hobby being “clutching her itinerary and imagining where she is at this moment,” I realized that this is the first year (out of four in boarding school, and now the second in college) that I have not had a printout of Abigail’s schedule on my bulletin board that I look at a thousand times a day and know exactly what she’s doing at every moment…..so I guess it’s working, this letting-go thing. Either that or I’m getting senile. Or a combination, I guess. 😉
Your post reminds me of the movie Almost Famous where Frances McDormand plays this wonderful Mom who calls her son while he’s traveling with a rock band. I loved it that after she would have a conversation with someone else other than her son that person would hand him the phone and say, “your Mom really freaked me out!”
I don’t think I would have been able to show such great restraint as you did. I would have cried at the airport and called her an hour after I expected her to call.
I hope she realizes what a lucky girl she is to have such a cool Mom–and not just because she lives in a Wool House.
Congratulations…you let her go, and didn’t make her feel guilty about it! “knit on, with confidence and hope, through all crises”
The EZ quote comes to mind…. “Knit on, with confidence and hope, through all crises.”
You’ll be much improved after this experience. So will she, but I suspect both sides make progress in these kinds of things, equally.
Amanda is going to have a great trip, you have done a fantastic job.
Its just really hard to let go, last year my eldest went to stay with my brother in London for 2 weeks, he was 14. Every time they told me he was off out on his own I nearly died. I vowed to remind my brother of his laid back attitude to teenagers travelling alone, when HIS baby gets to be 14!!
Just keep knitting.
Oooh, as the mother of a mere 14 month old, I am already sad about all of the “letting go’s.” My son is on the verge of walking, and although I walk crouched over like someone twice my age from hauling his 27# self around all day, part of me is a little sad.
When I was 18 I went to Europe for 6 weeks and I had to fight like he** to do it. Then my dad, who is usually a model of equinimity, suffered the worst bout of insomnia he has had in his adult life. (And I made it, and was fine, and never even tried the legal drugs in Amsterdam.)
Your daughter will be so grateful later on (and probably even now.)
Best,
Ingrid
I’m putting my 15 year old son on a plane to New York Friday (first trip without me and this is a child who once had me paged at the grocery store when he got lost) and was holding my breath to see how things went for you – you’re my role model! Thanks!
She needs you more than you will ever realize. She needs you because you are the one that has given her the strength of will and confidence to go do exciting things. When you’re not looking, she will be looking to you for affirmation of so much.
Just remember, she will need you to be able to stay up when she gets back to hear everything she did and saw.
My mom and I are best friends. I’m 45 and I will need her forever.
Wow. Now I know how my parents felt when I went to Brazil for 2 months when I was in University.
You’ve done a wonderful thing. You’ve given her wings and your blessing. She’ll come back with so many stories (more than likely a minute-to-minute account) that will all start out with “When I was in Austria…” which all children who have travelled know really means “I want to share my experiences with you. I can’t believe you really let me go. I had the time of my life. Thanks, Mom.”
oh maaaaaaannnnn! You know, I can’t read posts like that without it *really* hitting me that what you say is true even for kids who work a little harder like my little guy Toby (who has CP and walks with a walker). We have no no NO doubts in our mind that he’ll be a happily employed independent grownup with whatever family of choice he chooses – he won’t need us. Our best hope with both of our kids is that they’ll still want a bit of our time every now and then… ! Sara
oops, sorry. My comment was all about me, not you. Knit on Stef – that’s what it takes. Sara
Oh, Steph. My Wee One is two months shy of four, so I’ve got a decade or so to get to where you are with Amanda. I hope I can be as strong ~ and sucessful ~ as you!
That Franklin. We’ve met you before, haven’t we? You are already very eloquent, I can’t wait to see what you produce for us to read!
Stephanie, you’ve raised Amanda to be a person who makes good decisions. She’s an orchestra kid, for crying out loud! I was an “art major” in high school, not known for my good decision-making abilities, and I came back from France unharmed and loaded with great memories. You should go yourself!!
Let’s not even discuss my parents’ behavior when they left me at the airport when I went to Britain. My friends still talk about the scene they made.
These were the same parents who, at the same time they were losing their grip on reality, remembered to tell me not to leave a message on the machine if they weren’t home when I called, because that cost too much money (what the…). Then they’d get in a snit when they didn’t hear from me for three weeks (yeah, because you’re never home when I called and remember what you said about messages….)
GFY for holding it together. You’re taking the high road, and you’ll be remembered for it (even though you and your daughter don’t realize it now).
A-a-aw! You’re makin’ me cry!
Knowing teenagers, it probably would have been seen as uncool to call home but it is definitely cool to have your folks call just to say hello—even if you would never ever admit that…not even for a million euros. I am sure that she said that she misses you guys too in her head and her heart though not with her voice since to say it aloud might be seen as uncool especially if your roommate is in the room and might overhear…..
Though each minute will drag, especially at night..the two weeks will be gone quickly…when she is back home with all of her stories you can smile to yourself knowing that your little girl is growing up to be a brave resourceful young woman.
When I went to France (for a whole YEAR, all by MYSELF with no GROUP and no GROWNUPS) as a teenager, my mom in Nebraska used to wake up the whole house by calling at 3 a.m. to ask me things like, ‘Do they have clean water/hot water/a refrigerator?’ and ‘How often are you allowed to bathe?’ (She had some rather outdated stereotypes about post-war conditions in Europe.) These calls endeared me (NOT!) to my au pair employers. Oh yeah. They loved it. Found it touching, the maternal devotion.
Amanda’s fine and you know that a good mother can never put herself out of business. I still call that crazy woman every week, several times. Just to calm her down…..I’m AHEM almost 47…….and yes I always lock ALL the locks and no I’m STILL not moving back to Nebraska…..xoxox Kay
We know a child a year older than your daughter. Her parents clamped down harder instead of letting go. Your way is better.
oh steph! i am crying and crying. finn (my 5 yr old) asked me with such concern what was wrong and when i told him he said the most interesting thing (besides that i cry about really strange things). he said that grown-up girls cry more than little girls but that little boys cry more than grown-up boys. how true. i’m going to send your page to every grown up boy i know who needs a good cry.
thanks. you are truly wonderful.
Oh boy, I sure hear you. Isn’t it amazing how they start their lives by escaping out of our wombs, and then proceed to learn new ways of getting *AWAY* from us at every step? They learn to turn over, they learn to wave good bye, crawl away, walk away, go to some schooling situation, have friends of their own, and leave us on a jet plane, with nary a look back.
But in particular, I want to tell you that I completely understand the angst. My infant (who’ll be 13 in July) spends 3 months a year with his biodad in a country that is 10 time zones away. And at war. HE is always fine when he’s there, and fine when he comes back.
Me, on the other hand… …I’m earning all these lovely silver hairs.
::hugz::
I like to think that Amanda has found an internet cafe and is checking up on her mom via the blog. (Hi Amanada!)
When I was 18 I managaged to save enough money to spend a month in Germany with some family friends. Even though she knew where I was I heard that she was worried the whole time.
I don’t think I lessened the load when I mentioned that I was going to Amsterdam for a long weekend and that we were going high sea fishing – -and I don’t even like fish.
Amanada will have a great time. But you know those tricky Europeans might have a different way of putting cups in the cupboard or cutlery in the tray that she’ll think is far superior to your way.
And who knows? In a few years she might want to go to Europe with you. In April my mother and I are going to London & Paris (and maybe Frankfurt).
I’m not religious, dearheart, but to all that you said (and for all that you didn’t say) here, A-men.
Wouldn’t it be great if a lurker in Vienna went to a performance and/or casually passed your daughter afterward, saying “Oh, hi, Amanda.” Come on — Strikkelise — it’s only half a day or so and a lot of money. But it would be such a good joke…
Amazing post. I’m calling my mother (who has put the three of us girls on more planes than can be imagined — and the littlest one just got off a year on the road living in her PICKUP TRUCK) right now. No, first I’m going to send you a picture in email…. Hang on…..
Aw…you make me wanna cry…that’s so sweet…I’m gonna call my mom and tell her that I love her right now!
Stephanie, dont be afraid for her to walk around in Europe. We do have some civilisation 😉
My husband went to vienna twice and he loved it. It is so filled up with culture and nice places and really nice food. It is a good city. I can tell even I havent been there.
I somehow can imagine what you felt, because 6 month ago my little daughter startet visiting the child day care (right word?) and the first days I was watching the phone the whole time, perhaps the care stuff would call and tell she is injured or crying for mommy. Was very hard to let her go, now I see how happy she is there, what possibilitys she has there and it improves our relationship too. After some hours without her I am happy to see her again and am more relaxed with her. She is a bundle full of energy.
So if you miss Amanda remember how she bothers you sometimes and be happy to have a break 😉 Look forward to the day she is coming back an here all the stories of Vienna, the trip and what happened.
She will come home in a good mood and all healthy and she will be happy to be with you again.
So everything will be fine. ( Thats me talking who is always concerned when daughterly is not around 😉
Lyn did you have to mention, that in Euroe people are allowed to buy/ drink alcohol much earlier?
😉
Ow! I can feel your pain. I haven’t directly experienced that yet, my children are 6 and 11 and I have known where they have been every minute since they were born, but I can only imagine that it feels like you are suffocating and your heart is breaking. But Amanda (my daughter’s name is Amanda too)will be stronger for it and she will love that you trusted her enough to let her go. You’re in my thoughts.
A much wiser woman than I once said, “If you don’t let your children go, they will let go of you.”
You did a brave and wonderful thing, and may even end up having a deeper and richer relationship with your daughter because of it.
Keep knitting, and thinking of some Austrian wool I bet she brings you as a souvenier!
My mum waited until I had finished graduate school before she started the airport-clinginess-thing. Before that, she had always pushed me out the door with two hands on my back (okay, not literally, but…). So, naturally, I was freaked out a bit when, at age 24, my mum suddenly couldn’t handle leaving me in an airport – and she was the one getting on the plane! It’s good that you’re starting young with Amanda; it means she’ll be comfortable with some moderate cling when she gets to be my age. 🙂
A beautiful post. Crying at work is if it’s your lunch break, right? I have to go call my mom now.
Hope everyone has a great day!
I hope you don’t mind my telling my story along those lines…
My son’s high school class had a field trip planned to go to Washington DC. For September. Of 2001. It got cancelled, it got reinstated, it got cancelled, and finally all the parents and all the kids, with the teacher, decided, together, that this was something they wanted to risk and they wanted to do. That touring the Holocaust Museum was an essential part of their learning about the importance of standing up for one’s fellow man. Especially now. And yes we were all scared. Planes into DC were considered a particular target, and this one would be coming from San Francisco.
He came home with remarkably clear pictures he snapped through a bus window as they passed by of the collapsed front of the Pentagon, with a little smoke still rising up. I grew up next to DC, witnessing history: the various marches on Washington in the 60’s, the windshield my mom lost in the Martin Luther King assassination riots–we were right there. And now my son has one of the stories of this country there in his bones, too.
The hardest thing I ever did as a mother was to let that 17-year-old get on that plane. And I am so, so, so glad I did.
Amanda will be sharing her music, a part of herself that transcends all national and language barriers. Something that speaks to hearts everywhere. Something that reminds people how much alike we all are. What an incredible thing to get to do. What an incredibly important thing to take part in. Go Amanda. And go Stephanie for letting her experience that.
Such a great mom. I keep on hoping your daughter will read your post and think about how much you miss her. Even if you’re airing your wings, flying free is so much easier knowing your mama misses you.
You could dedicate all your knitted objects from now until she comes home to her. It will be the “Amanda on Tour 2005” collection. By gauging the amount of rabbidly knit items almost in Christmas production output, she’ll know just how much you missed her. And you’ll remember her trip with a wonderful set of “socks I started at 3 am because she didn’t call on Sunday”, “spinning I did at 7 am because I couldn’t sleep and I missed her”, “hat I knitted when she called and told me she wanted to stay in Europe”, and etc.
And you forgot to tell her to bring chocolate back. And coffee. No keychains. Definitely yarn if she sees it. “Pictures of mittens and cables on sweaters” (sung to “My Favorite Things”)… All trips overseas are merely extended shopping trips delegated to the traveling family member. What? Her trip? Bah, what’s the fun in that 😉
Glad you’re doing as well as you are. It’s good practice for the other big departures you’ll both have to go through later. It’s nice to see the experiences from a mom’s point of view. It’ll all be over soon 🙂
I think I’ve mentioned to you that I’m just a few years ahead of you — once we had three little girls all under the age of five and now we don’t. Our youngest just recieved early acceptance to two universities and now has a choice of where she wants to be in September. I really couldn’t be happpier for her but I long to phone the Office of the Registrar in a city far away just to shout down whatever baby-snatching misfit runs that place. Kidding, just kidding. . . .
You are a good, loving mother, and you are doing a fine job.
My granddaughter flew to visit me – all by herself! – and she was 8, and I don’t think I breathed the whole time her plane was in the air. I couldn’t have knit even if someone else was holding the needles.
Just echoing the above – what a great post! You are an amazing mother, and as such you’ve done a great job of teaching her to be an amazing young woman. Keep up the good (but very, very hard) work.
Vienna must have a yarn shop or two. Maybe even places that sell roving. And you know they have great chocolate, too. I pacified my mother with tea and packets of biscuits; perhaps Amanda will bring you yarn and chocolate?
Oh Stephanie, thanks for putting into words how hard it is to let our children go, because as good moms, we must…
My son was 12 when he went to Italy for 10 days with his Italian language class… We worried the whole time but it was a wonderful experience for him…and we didn’t have cell phones to reach him with.
My daughter spent 2 weeks in China last spring..that was very hard…but she LOVED it…even though she wouldn’t call…heh. But the parents of the kids on the trip had a network of email addresses and phone numbers so anytime any of us heard from them, we’d pass the news along.
I think you’re a great mom and the proof is that your daughter wanted to do this trip. All the things your girls are involved in just show that you have given them the gift of wanting to learn…you can feel very proud of the job you have done. (I know, mothers have a hard time believing they’re doing the best job)
Hope you’re knitting something fun, and fantastic, and special just for you!
Yes, Amanda is a lucky young woman to have such a wonderful mother. And she is appreciating every single bit of this adventure you have given her. {{{Harlot}}}
But ….. remember what I told my mother, on the occasion of my niece’s first airplane trip by herself: you are her grandma(you are Amanda’s Mummy), and you are allowed to phone her any time of the day or night that you wish.
I sent my oldest son to a 6 week debate camp when he was 14. I will never get over missing 6 weeks of his life, but he is such a great person for having been trusted to be a person. I truly believe that are children are what we make them, and allowing them this kind of adventure while young is a terrific thing to do. Even if you want to kill them for not thinking of you every minute, while you are obsessing over them.
I’m watching my daughter come up the walk right now from school. I hope that someday she will grow into the confident young adult that got on that plane! The beauty of it all is that once they learn to be on their own, you can begin a more adult friendship that will last the rest of your life!
You are such a GREAT mother for letting Amanda go on this trip. Be strong, she’ll be home sooner than you think!
What a great Mom you are!! When you’re fretting about the not calling, just remember how many codes there are to call from another country and how complicated it can be to figure out calling cards with smart chips and directions in German. (Not an excuse, but perhaps it will help keep the “she’s been kidnapped by gypsies!” feeling.) By raising a good traveler, you’re also raising a good tour guide. 🙂 Plan to take advantage of it.
I didn’t cry, but I was holding my breath in order to avoid it. Eloquent and exact sentiments you conveyed, and ones that resonated. Deeply. Perhaps she’ll learn to appreciate what a wonderful mom she has… as she observes others have less-than-glorious conversations/interactions with their moms… or as she attempts to keep things on an even keel with her children. I’m thinking of you.
Well, you know she didn’t say she missed you because her roommates would have seen her get a little emotional. Can’t be having that. She is having the best experience and probably wishing you were there too. But that little taste of being a grown up, even with chaperones, is the best. She will come back more of a young woman, and more appreciative, for awhile anyway, of what she has at home. Hugs to you.
Steph, she will always need you – but when she’s older, she deals with all the crappy details of living that occupied you when she was 2, and that leaves you both with more time to be…friends. I don’t know about being a mother, but I know this about being a daughter.
My daughter is almost 2, and I’m planning to hold her extra tight tonight when we’re all lying in bed. (And, I’m planning on being extra cranky toward anyone who comments to me that co-sleeping is bad and wrong! Screw ’em!)
A
My daughter is almost 2, and I’m going to hold her extra tight tonight when we go to bed! I’m also planning to be extra-cranky towards anyone who comments to me in conversation that co-sleeping is wrong and bad. Screw ’em!
Lis
Okay, tearing up reading this. I think it’s an AMAZING mother who can admit that yes, it’s this hard to let your kids go and yup, you’re doing it anyway. My mom always let me know when she was doing things that were hard for her and good for me, so that I learned and understood that when you love people, sometimes what’s best isn’t really your first instinct (aka, jumping a plane to Austria). Basically, in reading your entries about your daughter, I can imagine my mom writing them. And my mom is now my best friend, so I guess all I am trying to say is Wow, not only are you doing the ‘right thing’, you’re writing about it and sharing it.
I should tell you that when I was 16 my high school marching band went to London, UK for a new years parade. For the whole week. (there were 300 students, our band director certainly earned his place in heaven that week..i mean can you imagine organizing that trip???) My parents decided they couldnt take sending me off and chaperoned the trip. I think it’s a sign that I was not a normal teenager, but my friends and I signed up for their group. We spent the whole week happily exploring london with my parents as chaperones. My mother had no need to go insane over putting her kid on a plane, and me and my friends got to do things with my dad as chaperone (read: go out to pubs at night and taste his beer) that we never would have!
4 years later my sister was in the band when they went to Paris France. My parents signed up to chaperone and as a “mature college student” I was allowed to sign up as a chaperone too. My 16 year old sister pitched a FIT. Parents on her band trip??? NO WAY. I chaperoned her group instead. This was probably the dumbest decision the director ever made. My sister and her friends and I managed to see the inside of a few night clubs before the week was out 😉
So you see, parents on international field trips are a GOOD thing. I had a lot of fun when I went, and when my sister went lord only knows what we would have tried to pull if we knew my mother was safley on another content.
Later in college, my sister and I both went to Europe on our own but I really think that it’s ok for you as a mom to want to go with your daughter. You and my mom are seriously related in another life. The more I read your blog the more convinced of this I am. you are so like her, even down to the crazy hair thing (I showed her your picture so that she would know she’s not the only one), that I can predict what you will say about your kids because I’ve heard it already! I keep trying to get her to read your blog!
I have to echo the comment that it is good Amanda isn’t calling. She is not homesick and you have done a great job raising independent young woman. Thanks for posting the pictures, she is beautiful!
Finally, at least she is not in China where my dear son spent the last 7 months!
{{big hugs}} I do know exactly how you feel – and taking one look at the back of your little girl walking away, brought tears to my eyes. I’ve had to learn to let my kids fly, even when I wanted to hold them even closer. Last summer I sent my own 17yo Amanda to China for 2 weeks. Good-byes have always been hard for me and it’s impossible for me to hold back the tears – my kids are so use to it that they’d wonder if I DIDN’T cry. (Luckily I wasn’t the only mom blubbering at the thought that their baby was going to the other side of the world). She did fine, had all kinds of adventures and stories on her return, and will remember that trip for the rest of her life.
Just wait until you have to take them to college and leave them there…. 🙁
Wonderful post today Harlot. I have three babies, 4, 3 and 18 mo old. I already worry about moments like you are having right now. You have handled yourself with the grace and maturity you have have taught your daughter. She and you will be fine. Will I be when the these moments come up for me…I hope so!
Great post today. Your daughter is lovely, and I bet you are the *coolest* mom (well, aside from my mom, of course!!)
Hang in there and look forward to her great stories when she comes back!
poor you.I don’t think I would have been as brave as you.She’s very beautiful,like her mama!
As the oldest in a family of four children, I had the experience of “Mom is glad to get my out of her hair but Dad is keeping me up til 2am the night before my flight/bus/train teaching me new self-defense techniques” for longer than any of my siblings…but with the perspective that age gives me (ok, I’m only 23, but at least they don’t cry when I head back to the home that I have made for myself now!), I am so glad that there were long hugs at the airport. I knew that I was loved, that I would be fiercely missed in my absence, and that they would patiently listen to “When I was…” stories for weeks after my return.
Planning my wedding for summer ’06 though? They’re bigger basket cases than I’ve ever seen them.
Be strong though Stephanie, and know that Amanda probably hasn’t thought about you once except that time you called and bugged her (Parents are so WEIRD!), because she’s too busy being dazzled by the incredible sights, sounds (and sweets!) of Vienna. That can only be a sign of a job well done, and she’ll be back, and a richer person for it, before you know it, and you’ll probably want to send her back within a week anyway!
Yup, that’s how I feel more than 50% of the time since I only have my girls every other week and they’re at my mom’s on Fridays. You’re a brave mom and a damn good one too.
I’ve tried, but I can’t think of anything to say that doesn’t come out just a wee bit sarcastically.
Since that would be mean, I refer you to the Screech.
Letting go is so incredibly hard. I’m still working on it in spite of having a 19 year old and a 17 year old. My third boy is 15. Parenting infants is scary and demanding but with some exceptions, it is fairly predictable. Parenting older kids is scary and demanding in different ways and so incredibly unpredictable. Amanda will have a fabulous time and you will survive the experience. Let me warn you though, it gets both easier and harder as they get older:) My 19 year old son keeps reminding me that he is an adult when he isn’t asking for help or advice.
Ok.. that’s it! I’m pre-ordering your book!
I just turned the corner to come nose to nose with my 1 1/2 year old who was on top of the piano!! Man!~I sure hope I can get him to the point you are at..he’ll be lucky if he lives to 2!
Did I mention that when my daughter went to Ireland last year, she didn’t call ONCE? Not one time. I nearly killed her when she got off that plane, but mostly from grateful sqeezing. There was very little smacking her in the brainpan.
Thanks for sharing that perspective from the other side. Beautiful post.
I haven’t read all the many other comments, and I’m sure someone else has said it better than I will, but what I think of is that now is when all the work you did before pays off. You don’t need to follow her around (though I’m sure it would really feel better if you could) because you did all that work before. You helped her be the person she needed to become, and you gave her all that self-confidence and good sense and self-respect. I can’t imagine it, feeling bad when I’m at work and my babies are with their other mom or at preschool, but I know the day will come all too soon and I will be crawling out of my skin. But now, when they need me more than I can stand sometimes, I think about what I’m trying to give them. And it’s what your daughter already has. You done good, mama. She’ll be back. 😉
This growing up is for the birds. And I don’t mean the kids growing up. I mean US. Parents. Who knew it would hurt the heart so darned much??
I’m glad you called her.
And I hate to say it, but Bethany read this entry and proclaimed you PATHETIC! At least *I* have good company!
~nod
Thanks for making me cry (not that it’s hard to do these days, freakin’ hormones). I know that day I will need to do the same thing is going to come all too fast. I need to go knit now.
I’ll be 31 this year. My mother will always be Mommy to me. I didn’t go that far away until I was 19 or 20 – but I don’t think that it was any easier for either of us. *hugs*
As a child you have no idea about the heart wrenching feelings of letting go until you have to do as a parent. I registered my 5 yr old for kindergarten last week and am already having fantasies of being a teachers aid… Mind you that the school is down the street in the most rural town you could imagine. Another time zone? I would need heavy meds and lots of alcoholic beverages…. Just keeping thinking how this will make her a better and well rounded person later in life.
p.s. I think that they have GPS systems that fit into wristwatches now…just a thought for future trips.
Now that I am a mom to a teenager, I am beginning to fully understand what my folks went through with four kids… Two of us set off overseas, me several times while I was in High School and then during university, I went overseas to work for several months.
My parents seem to let me go without too much trouble, I thought – at ages 15, 17 and then 19 – I was the third child to take my leave, after all. But when I went off to university, my mom wrote me (as she has done every week or couple of weeks since I left home – over 25 years ago) and told me of a side I did not know of until then…she told me how when she took my placemat off the table after I left for school, it all came crumbling down for her and she sat down and wept. I had no idea.
I sent my own son off to Scotland a couple of years ago at age 13 – to spend some time with his Aunt. He was with family once he was there, but it is a long way to go on your own…my heart was in my throat until he came home…seemingly older than when he left…he continues to grow…but he’s always my little boy…as I am my parents’ little girl. And your daughter will always be yours…
I thought about you all weekend! You did great! If I had read this before I had the kids maybe I would have had a clue about how hard and complex being a mother really is. Your daughter is beautiful and is doing amazing things! I feel your pride/agony and am going to go stare at my children for a while and finish a sweater…for my mother!
Steph and all commentators:
You’re all making me feel that I’m a lousy mother. Although I watch my kids like hawk when I’m on the watch, but frankly, I couldn’t wait for them to be able to walk away! Right now, I’m happy if someone will just babysit them for a couple of days. Just try to remember the days when you’d rather have them out of your hair(read your own post on the day school begins), and you’ll feel better instantly.
I told DD#1 the other day that she can move out when she turn 18, and boy was she upset, she told me that she wants to live with me forever, and it’s my responsibility to take care of my own child. Wish I had a recorder then. And she’s only 4.
Don’t worry – they always need you. I still need my Mom and I’m 31. Not the same way as when you�re a child, but knowing the strong foundation is there – just in case – is a wonderful feeling. I’m happy to see that your girls have that and they will be happy to have you as not just a mom, but a best friend too.
Steph, you’re doing great, your daughter is having a wonderful time and as someone said previously, she probably has only thought about you and home when you called. She has these fleeting thoughts of all of you at times, I am sure, as something familiar strikes her. She does love and miss you I am sure, but they are busy, there are only so many hours in a day and you have to cram in as much as possible.
The first time our daughter left, I was depressed for two months. She came home on leave for 25 days and then left again. I was given a pass to go with her to the gate! I couldn’t believe it, we talked very little to each other as it was very hard without emotions breaking through. I gave her a hug and watched her walk away and through the gate to the plane and collapsed in my chair and bawled. Another mother came up to me and gave me a hug and told me that it is so hard to say goodbye and that she would pray for her. My daughter is a Marine.
On the other hand tonight, my husband opened the freezer and said “Do you know that you have a ball of yarn in here?” I told him that yes, I did, retrieved the yarn and tried to unravel to no avail and then burst into laughter. He had the most perplexed look on his face when he opened the freezer door.
Take care of yourself, she misses you immensely. I will keep you both in my thoughts.
Wanda
I just called and talked to my Mom for a few minutes. I read her a few quotes from your post and she seemed to think you described it all dead on. My younger brother visited both Spain and Mexico in high school, and I spent a semester of university in London, and it’s only as an adult that I can imagine how hard it must have been to let us go.
My baby is ten and I cant even imagine what you must have been going through but congratulations on staying some what sane! You did a much better job than what I could have.
my heart is clutching in advance.
I’ve 6 years to go before my first baby can do that.
I’ve been contemplating sending them to Grandma’s this summer during the week both DH and I are on trial — two different trials, two different towns — what was I THINKING of going back to ligigating??? But sending them to Grandma’s means putting them on a plane to fly between 800 and 1000 miles (crow? or driving equivalent??), and trusting my mother to be there (and I KNOW she’d be 45 minutes early… but still).
Are mine little enough that I could put them on the plane myself? or would I have to let them go at the security check point… suddenly I’m scared.
I’m proud of you for letting go. You done good! (again) (still).
This was beautiful. Please print out a copy of this and keep it for Amanda for later on – she’ll get it someday and feel the same way. You’re a big girl, too, now – you did it, and you weren’t even sure you could! I’m proud of you, too.
I’m 22 years old, have an 18 month old son, live 1,000 miles away from my parents and yet they still “call to check in.” In a sweet way it’s SICK. They were on a cruise last week and called from the carribean to Connecticut (BIG BUCKS) to make sure I was okay. As if they could have done something if I wasn’t. HA HA HA. When I was in college I didn’t check in with them one weekend. The campus police were knocking on my door at 8am sunday morning. My parents thought I had been abducted by aliens. As much as that humiliated and pi**ed me off then, I appreciate it now. I know it means I’m loved, missed, cared for, and thought about. And that is the BEST feeling in the world. Wishing you all the luck for the next week, and lots of congratulations for being such a successful mother!
Melanie
Well, my goodness. Tears are just running down my face because my oldest daughter just turned 18 and I’m going through exactly the same thing. Yes I want her to be a confident, independant woman but didn’t this all happen way too fast? I’m so proud of her, as you are of yours, but they will always and forever be our babies and that is the part we (I) have to learn to cope with. Thank you for sharing all this with us, it helps to know I’m not alone.
I have a number of years before I’m there, but I feel for you, and I hope you are able to find some comfort.
She’s cute.
My eldest son is 20 – I remember the first time he went away on a school trip.It’s difficult to let them go and not show your feelings.He has matured into a confident and very pleasant young man, in a caring profession and with a lovely girlfriend. I look at him and feel a certain amount of maternal pride and joy. You have to give them room to grow and the support to allow it.It’s still difficult when he travels (Prague and Jersey are planned for this year)…but I try and think of the positives. Good luck, it is all worth it. Honest.
You are not alone. Sigh. I put my teen-aged daughter on a plane for London on Friday. She’s not back yet! Actually I didn’t even get to drive her to the airport, they went “as a group.” She called from the airport to say she was homesick! Hold on, baby, I’ll be right there to pick you up! Nah, I let her go.
I don’ know how my Mom did it – I headed to the Carribean at 17 for a 10 week schooner sailing trip…we were boarded by the Jamaican Coast Guard holding machine guns at night…then some years later my Mom met me at the airport in DC to watch me get on a plane for Africa for 2 years (Peace Corps). The only communication we had were letters…I can’t imagine how she felt when she got the letter about my motorcycle accident coming off the Usambara mountains…and now I am “Mom” to an 8 and 4 yo…as others stated, thanks for the perspective and such a great blog…your fighting fish death account was hilarious – we have one just like it and your cat looks like mine. Inspirational writing skills!
So beautifully put. But isn’t it so, so much better that she didn’t say ” I wish I hadn’t come”.? I worry more about what goes on in my teenager’s day than when he was in daycare. It isn’t getting easier, is it?
Courage..and have a good week anyway!
steph,
I feel your pain, cept my son is a sophomore at college only 6 hours away, but it never gets any better. I could make a job out of worrying, too bad it doesn’t pay and is bad for your health.
take care.Your a good mom.
Just to repeat what everyone else has said: you ARE a good mom. Kids love to be loved, but not to be kept small and insecure. Kids love that parents trust them, because, no matter what they say when they get angry, kids DO care what their parents think about them. And kids want Mom and Dad to be proud of them. Always.
Believe me, in the long run this will allow her to become closer of you than she would be if you overprotected her. I know people, now in their late 20s-early 30s, that love their parents yet cannot be near them as often as they would like, because if they come visit them more than, say, 2 times per month, their parents start wanting to make decisions for them again. I feel sad for them.
Hold on and keep writing.
Kisses (mine) from Europe 🙂
hello lonely bereft mother. since this is comment 106 i don’t know if you will ever see it, but FYI i wanted to tell you there was someone who looked SO MUCH LIKE YOU on my train (in chicago) this morning that i seriously almost asked her “do you have a sister who’s a real harlot?” total doppelganger.
Your posting was so tender and you captured the feelings so well. I was misty sending my one and only child to kindergarten. I am so scared for the big releases that will come in teen years. I feel for you! What a wonderful opportunity for her to perform in Europe. How selfless of you to let her go. Blessings, and Godspeed on her safe return.
Hi Stephanie,
I’ve been reading for a while, but this entry moved me enough to write. Last summer I sent my 9 year old daughter off to Germany for a week with her dad and step-mother — a most difficult day in my life. The ensuing week was one lenghty ache.
I can promise, though, that the time you spend waiting outside the Customs area for the flight to disembark at her return are equaled only by the moments that you waited for the nurses to clean the baby off and hand her to you for that first official snuggle.
It is truly a re-birth, for both of you. Enjoy!
Tried to comment yesterday but was sobbing and had to call my mom. I loved going on orchestra tour when I was Amanda’s age. Thanks for the reminder of how important the mother-daughter relationship is.
How wonderful! Now I know how my mother felt when she put me on a plane to Spain. At that time, anyone could get through security and sit at the gate, and she sat there for over an hour until I boarded. I know she sat there, watching the take-off until the plane was invisible. It was the best moment of my life, that trip. You will be so glad that you let her go; she’s having the experience of a lifetime.
I know exactly where you are at right now. My 13 year old daughter leaves for Japan on Saturday morning for 10 days (Cultural exchange program with her school). So, I too have been running around like a maniac. Some worry is creeping in there as well. I know she will have a great time and that this is such an opportunity. Of course that does not stop me form worrying too. Which is part of the privledge of being a mom.
You have a beautiful daughter who appears to be very well grounded. Yes…you are doing your job well. Happy Knitting!
This entry makes me cry for my 5-year-old daughter, who is no more than 2 blocks from me at preschool right now. And it makes me cry for the 1-month-old daughter asleep in a bouncy seat in the living room right now. How can anyone other than a mother understand the love that goes into raising a daughter, only to have to send her out of the nest at some point to see if you were, in fact, a good mother?
Congrats on your book! My dream also- only mine is a work of fiction. I can’t wait to read it!
Having had 4 kids which have all gone on trips away from me for school and fun. Now, the only thing left..is college dorm life for you to survive. Yes, you will do that, too. And you will love the adults that it will create. After all, you were the first one to teach her to breathe on her own. Just remember to breathe on your own, too. She will come home from all things ventured away…and the love will be stronger! I promise.
Ok, now I’m crying. My 17 month old son is tottering around the house now, kicking an old pop can and I’m blubbering like an idiot.
Please excuse me while I find a kleenex.
What a wonderful entry. 🙂 It made me cry, thinking about my own Mom and thinking about my relationship with my own son.
Congratulations on raising such a confident, adventurous daughter! My boy is merely 6 so I’ve yet to experience the heartbreak of his first solo flight, but I applaud you for raising a young woman whom you can trust to do what you’ve taught her.
Stephanie, just found your blog through Knitter’s Review. I remember my daughter’s 4 band trips in high school, all done by bus, and how much we missed her then, and worried. Even though I knew her “Band Mother” very well and knew nothing would happen, I still worried. Each time she came back a little more grown up for having had the experience. Amanda will too.
Last fall my goddaughter went to Ghana for three months on a medical internship run by a British group. Her father was so set against her going, having heard about all the problems in other African countries, but he has mellowed, now that she is back with wonderful tales to tell and a new perspective on going to med school this fall.
I remember seeing a placque some where about loving children enough to give them wings. That is what it’s all about. Loving and letting go, at the same time.
Keep knitting.