Homecoming

The sound level at my house has definitely taken a turn toward noisy. Yesterday Spencer and a friend came home. The friend caught a plane to California and I was so happy that Spencer was within driving distance this year. 

Then today I drove back to Ohio University and picked up Tucker. We loaded all of his clothes and books and bedding since Tucker decided not to go back in January. 

Although he comes home coughing, I could feel the tension leave him as we drove off into the sunshine. He loosened up and talked about what he didn't like about living in a dorm and why he prefers to live in Columbus. 

I expect as he settles into life at home, he might have some regrets about moving home. He plans to continue taking classes and to transfer to Ohio State in the fall. 

I know someone who is thrilled to see Tucker come home. 

No Room

Have I complained mentioned recently how nerve wracking it can be to raise young adults.
The problem is that they think they are "raised" already, so they don't have to take my advice. Not like when they were little and had to do what I said.
I still have a lot of influence over them, of course, because I'm paying for college.
I brought Spencer home from college and, within a few days, he had a job and is working 40 hours per week. Spence enjoys hanging with his friends, and I had anticipated giving him a stern talking to about adjusting to life with parents, but mostly he's too tired to do more than work. He's still on college student hours, which means I might get up at 5 a.m. and see him getting ready to go to bed... and that leads me to the biggest problem
Our house, our lovely house that looks out into treetops from the front porch, is small.

We have three bedrooms. When the boys were younger, we expected them to share. They rarely did. Tucker took to sleeping on the couch in the living room. Then Spencer  moved into the rec room in the basement.
That's where he slept last year on a futon. The futon isn't one of those thin mattresses that feels like it is stuffed with straw. It has springs and everything.
Since he arrived home this year, Spencer  has been requesting his original bedroom back. Tucker is currently occupying it. This year, as the only child at home, he spread his belongings between two bedrooms. I narrowed him down to one, but it's the one Spencer would like to have.
With Spencer's weird, day-time sleeping habits, Tucker chomps at the bit to play on the Xbox or watch TV in the rec room, which he can't do because Spencer is sleeping there.
"He needs to be more considerate when I'm sleeping," Spencer said.
"It was 1:30 p.m." Tucker replied.
They both had a point.
Grace took over her old bedroom, but on Sunday, we moved most of her belongings to her new apartment. She came home again because she has rehearsals nearby four days a week.
To make matters worse, yesterday morning, Spencer sat on the edge of the futon and bent the frame. He got up complaining that he slept on an incline.
"Okay," I decided, "time to oust Grace from the other bedroom."
Tonight, after I teach, after Grace's rehearsal, I'm driving Grace back to her apartment.
I'll change the sheets and Spencer can sleep there tonight, although he may not go to bed until 5 a.m.
When I finish teaching tomorrow, I'll help Spencer move his belongings to the dresser upstairs.
I guess we're doing a good job of making sure life isn't too comfortable at home.

Changes

What if you left your life for six months then popped back in. What do you think would be different?
That's kind of what happened for my oldest son Spencer.
I took him back to college on Jan. 3. He arrived home last night.
Life went on, of course.
"Where's the trash can?" he asked turning toward the kitchen corner where the trash can used to be.
We painted that corner of the kitchen and moved the trashcan under the sink.
"Can I take a shower in the downstairs bathroom?" he asked.
"Ask Dad," I told him. "He just caulked it."
"Where is Dad?" he asked. "Still in bed?"
The clock read 11:19 a.m.
When Spencer left for college in January, Earl hadn't switched to working days. When he worked until midnight or 1 a.m., he often slept in (but never until 11).
"No, Spence, Dad is at work." He looked puzzled.
The entire world had shifted while he studied and partied in Florida.
"Can I switch to the basement bedroom when Grace moves into her apartment?" he asked.
"No, Tucker took over that bedroom. You can't kick him out."
When Spencer walked in the door last night, he scooped up one of our cats. "He seems so much calmer," Spencer said to the cat.
Just hang around for a little while and the cat will be skidding back and forth across the wood floors.
Not everything changes.

Rounding Up All My Children

Finally, I'm very close to having all three of my children together.
I'm in Florida with my two oldest, Grace and Spencer. Grace finished with college for the year on Tuesday, moved her things home, and we left the next morning to drive to Florida.

It was a very long drive, or maybe it just felt that way because I am getting old. I usually drive the whole way myself but on the last stretch of the trip, I let Grace take over.
Part of what made the trip long, was that we stopped at a park in Charlotte, North Carolina. Our route goes by Charlotte and I had heard about a pretty park there from Jackie McGuiness at Junkboat Travels.
Driving into Charlotte, Grace and I were both struck by how much it felt like our hometown Columbus, Ohio. It's a small, bustling downtown area, which, we noticed, is called "uptown" not downtown.
Charlotte is one of the cities that Grace is considering after she graduates from college. She put it on the top of her list after our stop at The Green.

The Green is a bookish park with author's names as mile markers and stacks of books as statues. We loved it.

 

We got to my parents' house on Wednesday night.

On Thursday, I drove over to St. Petersburg to pick up Spencer from college. I hadn't seen him since Jan. 3 when I dropped him off at school. I've talked to him on the phone and texted plenty, but there's nothing like hugging your kid. 

We loaded up all of his belongings, filling a trash bag full of his big basketball shoes and tying his bicycle onto the top of the car since I forgot the bike carrier. 

It's been a tough year for Spencer in many ways, but he's healthy and he persevered. And I still owe you all the "mafia" story. I promise I'll tell it someday soon.

Now Grace, Spencer and I are at my parents house for a few more days until we drive back to Ohio.

Meanwhile at home, Tucker finished his last day of high school.

Every year at our school, the parents and underclassmen line up for the seniors to walk between us on the last day. They go to the football field across the street and after a few speeches from the students, they release balloons (biodegradable) into the air.

I have missed this ceremony for both of my boys, but Earl has gone both times and took pictures. My friend Betsy also took some pictures of Tucker for me.

Tucker had an AP (Advanced Placement) test on Wednesday afternoon, so he didn't think he'd get to walk with the seniors. He really wanted to be a part of it though. He asked whether he could skip the exam.

The exam can be important because students can earn college credit. They take an advanced class all year and the official AP Exam is what earns them college credit. It doesn't affect their actual classroom grade. 

To me, the college credit seemed more important than a few minutes on the football field, but maybe I wasn't thinking enough about the emotion of it all. 

He ended up taking the test and still getting out in time to walk with his friends.

Here's a picture Betsy sent me that I love. I can picture him hurrying out of the test to join his classmates, afraid he'd be late, but no, there they were. He's smiling to himself with an array of friends behind him.

In a few more days, we'll all be home together preparing for a weekend of graduation and celebration. 

Grace moves out in June, but until then, I'll have all my children together for a little while longer. 

The Good with The Bad

In less than two weeks, my daughter will be home from college for the summer. The end of an all male household, plus me, is in sight.
But I don't want to give the impression that having Grace away at college is all bad. I've found one silver lining to this gray cloud.

Since she left in August, I have used the exact same ponytail holder every time I needed a ponytail holder. For morning runs or P90X, that ponytail holder was waiting for me. Sometimes, I might have needed to move a brush out of the way to find it, but none of the males in my family took it.
It didn't disappear from my shelf to be lost in a swim bag or pulled from Grace's ponytail in a bedroom to be laid on a bedside table and later swept under a bed. It didn't find its way into a cupholder in a car. I wore it when I exercised, then I would take it out and put it back on the shelf where it remained until I needed it again.
Amazing. One ponytail holder for the entire school year.
Still, for the reward of having Grace back, I guess I'll buy another pack of ponytail holders and welcome her home. It seems a small price to pay.

Snow Dreams

I lay in bed in the dark on Wednesday morning when Earl kissed me goodbye and drove into the frigid morning air. He returned at 3:15 a.m. Thursday morning to find me back in bed. He had driven for nearly 21 hours to Grace's college to fetch her home for Christmas.
Grace hugged me and scooped up the cats. The younger cat just looked confused. He doesn't have a very long memory and can't recall that another person lives in this house.

"That's too long of a drive for one day," I murmured as Earl climbed in bed.
"I know. I can still see snow flying at the windshield," he said.
We had searched the weather forecast, trying to find a day when the snow would be minimal. The entire week was supposed to be full of snow. The road to Grace's college follows the Great Lakes, which is always dumping "lake effect" snow on the highways and cities nearby. In Syracuse, they already had 42 inches of snow last week.
"Almost a white out in Syracuse but at least we're to Syracuse," was the message I received Wednesday evening at 7:05.
My entire day was a series of text message updates from Earl as he traveled there then Grace as they traveled home.
"In Pa." came the message at 9:40 a.m.
"NY" arrived next at 10:21 a.m.
"Roads clear but NY has plows parked and running in the medians," Earl texted at one point. He was impressed with the way they handle snow.
Grace's texts talked about a boy then about the drive.
I suggested they stop and get a hotel.
"Dad says it's not going to happen. We both feel fine. You've got a nighttime newspaper editor and a college student who has spent the last week and a half preparing for finals by staying up late and cramming. We're gonna be fine."
And they were fine, just tired, and, obviously, still in bed this morning as the boys stumble off to school.

Homecoming

Grace and Earl are driving through the night right now on their way home. Grace has a week off for Thanksgiving.
Her sheets are clean and the blankets are folded back on her bed.
I can't remember what it was like when I came home from college. I think I was so caught up in spending time with my friends that I probably didn't even notice the comfort of being home.
I hope that when Grace walks through the door at home she feels the same way that I do now when I walk in my parents' house, no matter what house they live in -- Ohio, Kentucky or Florida. Of course, as an adult and as a mother, walking in my parents' house has always felt like a shedding of the weight that I carry on my shoulders. Whoosh! All the responsibility melts away and I'm a duaghter again instead of a wife, mother, teacher, writer.
I joked with the students in my class last night that I imagined we might spend the entire week with me on the courch and Grace's head on my lap.
But that's a fantasy too, since I'll be in bed when she gets home and then I'm off to a swim meet at 6:30 a.m. before a basketball scrimmage at 10 and... well, it's a typical weekend at our house. There will be little time to sit with her head resting in my lap.
Still, just having her at home makes everything feel a little more secure.