Heartbreak Hotel (Ever since my baby left me)

Last weekend My Tom and I moved my daughter Molly to Ames Iowa. She transferred from our local community college in Illinois to Iowa State University.

In the last couple of years leading up to this point I have felt pretty confident that I was ready for this move. Then moving week came. . . .

List of items we came up with to take to college:

Keep in mind that Molly is living in a college owned 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom apartment with a full kitchen and laundry room rather than a dorm room . So your list may need to be tweaked a little.

computer/printer/cords/ink/paper/usb drives/power surge cord
phone/charger
envelopes/stamps/addresses/calendar/personal organizer
pens/pencils/highlighters
post it notes/rubber bands/paper clips/3 hole punch
ruler/scissors/stapler/staples/staple remover
waste basket/fan (mostly for noise control)/alarm
white out/calculator/erasers
folders/notebooks/paper/index cards
something to store books on or in (book shelf/crates)
sports equip (in Molly’s case her bike complete with allen wrenches, extra inner tube, pump, and tire changing tools all of which fit in the seat bag or attach to the bike frame)
back pack/water bottle
bank card/checks/insurance cards/license/student ID
camera/charger
cleaning supplies for kitchen and bath/light bulbs/mini vacuum
dishes/drinking glasses/silverware
pans (and in Molly’s case cupcake pans) she’s a cupcake baker from way back.
toaster/coffee pot/mini slow cooker for nacho cheese dip
ziplock bags/food storage containers
dish soap/cascade/paper towels/trash bags
dish towels/dish cloths/scrubbers/pot holders
kitchen cooking utensils/sharp kitchen knife/can opener/pizza cutter
food
BLENDER (after we went to get her groceries, bought things for smoothies and discovered she had no way to make them)
clothing . . . .underclothes/ shorts/ tops/ jeans/ sweaters/sweatshirts/light jacket/winter coat/ gloves/mittens/scarf; hat/boots/PJ’s/robe/ flip flop/ shoes/sock/ dresses/accessories
Sewing kit (just enough to do minor repairs or sew on a button)/safety pins
laundry basket/hangers/hamper/laundry soap/dryer sheets/ stain remover
iron/mini board
toothbrush/paste/floss
hair dryer/straightener/hair supplies/shampoo/conditioner
feminine protection supplies ~~(if you’re a girl Cap’t Obvious)~~
contacts/solution/glasses
razors/soap/first aid kit/meds/sunscreen/skin care items
toilet paper/tissues
bath towels/ washcloths
bedding/pillows
hammer/screwdriver/duct tape/flash light/batteries AA/AAA/flashlight size
entertainment : games/TV/DVD’s/ipod (we skipped the TV)

then moving day came. . . .

It’s actually a pretty nice apartment . . .

3 bedrooms . . . so all 3 of the girls living there will have their own personal space.

Kitchen . . . .

Living room . . . .

It really is a lovely campus . . .

but still . . .

I had to leave my baby there with all those strangers . . . and with only a bicycle for transportation back and forth to campus and work (the grocery store she worked at here has a branch in Ames where she transferred to).

Even though we pimped out her bike with flashing lights and reflectors, and bought her a helmet and a fluorescent vest(which I’m sure makes her feel pretty Pee Wee Herman-ish) I can’t help but feel she is a bit vulnerable out there on the street. Yeah she even has a bell on that Trek bike of hers. An original on campus I’m sure.

I cried like a baby the day we left her standing in the bathroom putting up her new shower curtain (the last of the moving in duty’s). Trying to console myself with a little humor, I told her not to miss me too much and I’m sure at that point she couldn’t wait for us to get out of there.

It was just last week when I brought her home from the hospital and she kept me up night after night . . . . for the next 21 years.

She never was a good sleeper.

I’m sure I’ve driven her crazy with all my text messages since. And when I don’t hear back as soon as I think I should, I automatically assume she’s been kidnapped off her bike while on her way to school or work. So I copy, paste, and resend the same texts over and over till she ~~(with an exasperated tone in her text)~~ responds back.

I’m sure it will get easier but it’s a mother’s curse to never stop worrying about our children no matter how old they are.

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