And Then There Were Four of Us

My firstborn left us for college last weekend. It was hard on me, but Olivia totally stole my thunder and cried her eyes out at the airport.

Why don't they tell you about the part where your kid leaves you during sex-ed class? 

The next day, Olivia and Seamus cried for hours on Jack's bed while Henry and Grace buzzed about the room grabbing everything that wasn't nailed down .

I barely heard from Jack the first few days. My amazing friend Katie took him shopping at Target, so I was able to get a little information from her. Finally, though, he needed a favor. He wanted me to check something on his old laptop. I held the information hostage until he chatted with me AND sent me a picture of his dorm. If that's the way it has to be, I can play along. I'm holding the purse strings, after all. He wasn't able to pick up the linen package we ordered him for several days after he moved in, so according to Mitch he slept on balled up sweatshirts and dried himself off with a shirt. He told ME he already had his linens so I wouldn't pester him and fret.

These are the kind of conversations we've been having.

Since he refuses to tell me any details because he's a grown-ass man, I've had to resort to stalking his debit card, which is linked to our account. So far I know he's eaten at Subway and a couple of burrito places. He bought a lightbulb at the University Bookstore. What? Everybody stalks their kids via their bank accounts, don't they?

On Monday morning, I got a call from the middle school. Olivia had a terrible stomachache and needed to be picked up. I left work, but when I got to the school she seemed fine. This is when she confessed that it wasn't her stomach that hurt, but her heart. We went home, got in our pjs and watched 80s movies together for the rest of the day. We will get there, but I don't like all this extra room in my nest.