Swimming in a Bigger Pond

My son would probably feel quite at home among Peter Pan's Lost Boys, playing games all day and never growing up. He graduated from high school in June and, not wanting to leave the nest, had applied to and been accepted into a local college. As the summer waned and the day of registration grew ever closer, he whined, "I don't want to go to college. I want to go back to high school", in a comical voice that only thinly veiled his very real fear of venturing beyond the sheltered world in which he had been nurtured. When it became obvious that, like it or not, he was going to have to step out of his comfort zone, his fear manifested itself as all manner of disagreeable behavior. He becomes quite obnoxious when faced with something he doesn't know and can't control. No attempts to convince him that he would manage just fine sufficed.

After dinner on the evening of my son's first day in college, my husband took out a bottle of champagne and offered a toast to his success. Fast forward to today. My son has met all his professors, purchased his books and gotten more than his feet wet. He's been given homework assignments and is becoming familiar with the anomaly known as academic scheduling. More importantly, he has begun to notice the subtle and not-so-subtle differences between high school and college and seems to be enjoying the experience, for which I am eternally grateful.

Today marks the end of my son's first week in college and I celebrate it as a battle won. I look forward to the bottle of champagne we will open on the day he graduates. In the meantime, I will quietly celebrate the victory of successfully launching my child into college in spite of his resistance and inwardly bemoan the loss of my little boy to the man he is fast becoming.

Ballo ergo sum,
Always and all ways,
- Gitana