Lauren moved out two weeks ago. We knew she was probably moving away in August, but this was sudden and came out of nowhere. She went swimming with a friend one Wednesday afternoon at some apartments near our house, which is also near the college she attends. She came home with two girls we’d never met before and announced that “Ashley” was her new roommate. They'd met through their mutual friend, Cassie, at the pool that afternoon. (Yeah, you heard that right, they JUST met that day but they were planning on being roommates). Ashley’s roommate had jumped ship on her mid-lease and she had an extra bedroom/bathroom up for grabs. Needless to say we (I) didn’t take her serious. Well, that is until Friday afternoon when I arrived home to find Lauren, Cassidy and one of Cassidy’s friends carrying arm loads of clothes out to Lauren’s car. I kind of felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach.
Yes, I know she's 20-years-old and all but she's still my baby girl. (Granted, my very mature and stubborn as a mule baby girl). I know I got married at age 12 and all (okay, maybe I wasn’t actually 12, but I was pretty damn young) and by the time I was her age already had a two-year-old and had lived in California and Korea for crying out loud, but that was different. That was me and this is her. Too many things can happen out there! Does anyone else watch Court TV? (Oops, I mean TruTV?)
Anyhow, back to my story. So, on Friday she had moved all of her small stuff out while I followed her around the house telling her there was no need for her to move out, she had no rules at home, she had it made here, she had her freedom coming and going as she pleased without the financial strain of being on her own, that it was a big (huge) mistake for her to do this, to just wait until August to do anything, etc. Well, obviously that fell upon deaf ears.
That night we went out to eat for Caden’s birthday and on the way home she wanted us to stop by and see her new home. I was impressed with the apartment and her roommate seems really nice.
By Saturday afternoon her dad was moving her big furniture out and I was staring at a half empty room wondering how I was going to deal with one bird leaving the nest.
There are definitely pros and cons to this situation.
An extra bedroom (with a walk-in closet) to be used for whatever we (I) please
A guest room (with cable TV!)
Less dirty dishes
Extra closet space
No dirty pizza pans in the sink when I come home for lunch
More closet space (did I already mention that?)
I have lots more home alone time when I work my two half days
She’s less than a mile away and still drops in on us at all hours
I miss her (Ok, I admit that she drove me absolutely crazy when she was here but I still miss her)
I can’t wake up at 2am and open her bedroom door to make sure she’s safely in her bed or peer through the garage window to see if her car is in the driveway and know that she made it home safely
I worry about her midnight runs to Wal-Mart and her walking to her apartment door alone verses pulling into our driveway and being 10 feet away from the door
I just worry about her in general and it totally sucks
For instance, I got pretty worked up Thursday night because she had a camping weekend planned and she decided to leave at midnight for a three and a half hour drive ALONE. She arrived at her destination at around 4am. I still pay her car note and insurance (among other things) and can always pull that trump card on her, but I don’t want to have to do that. I just want her to be smart and to be safe and for some reason, even with her freedom when she lived here, I felt like I still had her safety under control. This is a whole new world for me. I’m not so sure that I like that my little bird has left the nest, and I dread the fact that there are two more who will spread their wings before I know it. Sigh.
By the way, she has a new boyfriend. They went to high school together but were always just friends until now. We knew of him because he was a star athlete and everyone in this town knew of him, but we’d never officially met him until she brought him by the house the other night. He has a nickname and that is what he is known by. I don’t think anyone knows his given name. It was kind of funny for me when I offered him a drink. “Boogie, would you like something to drink?” Yes, I said BOOGIE and kept a straight face.