Two years ago (and 4 days), we dropped our "baby girl" off at Greir Hall at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville. I don't know what I expected, a warm embrace filled with "I love you, let your personality shine and make good choices" uttered in her ear, with a group picture but what I expected and what we got were two different stories.
So, this blog serves as an ALERT TO ALL PARENTS OF DAUGHTERS DURING COLLEGE DROP OFFS and please do not pass judgement on my family.
The weeks before drop off day, I noticed one thing.... Amazon Boxes. You would have thought it was early December. But my daughter was in control, focused and organized. (a sentence I will never write about the males in my family). Anyway, those boxes were filled with hangers, shelves on wheels, art, who knows. She was on a mission.
As we planned the drop off, I informed them that we were stopping overnight in Asheville for dinner at the Grove Park Inn and then a morning tour of the Biltmore and then on to Knoxville later in the day. All was good.
Have you ever heard the expression, "ten pounds of sugar in a five-pound bag?" That is what our car looked like the night before we left. It was crammed. Crammed. With what, I am not all together certain, but it was crammed.
We got up the next morning on time, I did not have to throw a "mom fit" about getting out of bed on time and I felt set up for success.
Two men in the front, my daughter on the driver's side of the car (which really taunts my left-handed dominance, but I let it go) and me on the passenger's side with a plastic white laundry basket on my lap with no vision whatsoever and a case of waters between Addie and me that made more noise than the ERAS tour.
Please note, in my older years, I have developed a pretty bad case of anxiety in the car when others drive. It is not because I am not driving, it is because I spend more time looking at the road than the driver. I am a wreck. So, I set in the backseat to spare us all. Now with a plastic trash can on my lap, with limited vision, I was not as bad as I usually can be. There were still several gasps, "WATCH" (that infuriates my husband) and reaching for anything above my head and pressing the imaginary brake. I am a real joy in the car.
Grove Park in, SUCCESS. Dinner, Success. Biltmore, Success, I was winning the drop off at this point.
We rolled into Knoxville in plenty of time and sunshine and decided to take a quick tour. Three of us had never been to Knoxville. (That is another blog). Anyway, nice city, big city and I did begin to get a little nervous. This was a city. We live in a tiny town. Only traffic is beach traffic...mini vans and Jeep Wranglers but I kept it together. I did notice that Addie had that look of "I don't remember any of this" but she stayed calm. It was a city. No campus. And then we saw 14,000 little cheerleaders coming out of a building. It was the national little cheerleading competition weekend.
We check in at the hotel. All those little cheerleaders, fifty-dollar hair bows and all, along with the parents, were at the hotel.
Walker wanted to work out, dad wanted a nap. The "my daughter is really possessed by the devil side came out" because she could not believe her dad wanted a nap or Walker wanted to move his body. I calm her down and say, "let's make the last trip to Wal-Mart and get out of here."
This is where I started to lose the drop off.
Not sure why or how, but my kids have always been fascinated or intrigued by homeless people or as they called them, hobos. Since they were little. We would drive through or around a city and they were on "hobo watch." No judging.
We pull into the shabby looking Wal-Mart and of course, the first thing she sees, a female hobo. "I have made a mistake. I cannot go to school here. They have hobos. I am not staying here."
"Addie, there are homeless in Cedar Point, NC. You are going to school here. Relax."
We walk into Wal-Mart and when those doors opened up, I became the world's least intelligent person.
"Get your list out".
"I don't need a list, nobody has a list, I know what I need."
"Ok, what do you need first?"
"Command strips".
"Ok, I am sure there is a huge center aisle display for Command Strips".
"No mom, there is not."
And so, it goes.
She finds a few things and then runs the cart into the center aisle Command Strip display. I turned my head and laughed. She picks what she wants and says, "are you going to get me snacks like you did Walker?"
Of course, I was but what I didn't know walking into Wal-Mart, all of the schools were starting on Monday. High schools, middle, elementary, day cares and a huge university were all starting on Monday. This Wal-Mart looked like Eastern NC when we get a hurricane.
So, I say, "want some bananas and peanut butter?"
My daughter eats peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon, tons of it. She lived on bananas as a child.
Her response, "No I hate bananas and really hate peanut butter. What is wrong with you mom?"
"Well, what is it that you would like to eat?"
"I don't know. I just need you to leave me alone because you are rushing me".
I whipped out my debit card, gave her the limit and said, "shop away."
I walked out to the car, happy as a clam that I was relieved of duty.
I move the car closer to the entrance and see her coming. She had to wheel past the hobo and I am sorry but I am slapping the steering wheel while I was laughing I got out of the car and helped her load and I peeked into one of the bags to see water, peanut butter and bananas.
When we get into the car, i notice that she has a large stash of cash. "OMG, what are you doing with all that cash, we need to get it into your account"...you know the rant.
So, on the way back to the hotel, we pass her bank...and I pull in. The ATM was in front of the bank...where, there was a van parked, filled with landscape employees, and one of the employees was making a transaction.
She freaks. "They are going to rob us. I am not putting my money in the bank. They need to leave, blah, blah, blah."
So, we wait until they have driven home and showered (I swear it felt that long) and finally she deposits her cash.
Back to the hotel.
As we pull in, one of the mini cheerleader dads is standing outside his minivan smoking a joint. (I seriously was ready to ask him for a hit).
Anyway, she sees him and loses it because she is now convinced that Dope Smoking Dad is going to break into our car and take the plastic trash can with 2 -24 packs of water and some fruit snacks. I tell her to relax and let's go eat dinner.
We get to the hotel and the fellows are ready to eat. I announce that we are walking to dinner. Walking being the key word. Walking, imagine walking after a three-hour car ride? Walking. Two blocks.
She went crazy, crazy the entire time we walked to the restaurant.
After dinner, the two asked if they could take the car and explore. As I ordered another cocktail, we said, "Of course."
They left; we ordered cocktails.
We go back to the hotel, and they pull in.
They were so excited. They found the campus. Euphoric. I had euphoric kids.
We locked our car to prevent Dope Smoking Dad from breaking in for the coveted trash can and retired for the night.
I had rebounded and was winning the drop off again.
We woke up for the big move in day.
We were scheduled to move in at 10am.
We leave the hotel. As we approach our destination, my husband decides to pull over for a cup of coffee and Walker needs to use the bathroom. They leave the car...she loses it. (This time I kind of got it.)
They come back to the car, and she is hot. Addie is really hot. And it is now a few minutes after ten and she really thinks that they are not going to let her move in because we are late.
As we turn the corner to her dorm, the traffic jam was like we were living in NYC.
Seriously, a five hour back up. The stress in the car was immense. Nobody would speak. My butt cheeks were so tense I could have opened a coke bottle with them.
I could not take it anymore, so I got out of the car and started walking toward the dorm to see what we needed to do. It was Africa hot outside the car. I was sweating but smiling at the same time.
There were minivans, trucks and SUV packed to the prim. Unreal, the scene was unreal. I discovered what we needed to do and where we needed to be and returned to the car.
I could tell when I got in that there had been a serious meltdown. So, I glad I was just a victim of swamp ass and not the wrath of my daughter.
We arrive. It seemed like a mirage for a while, but we arrived.
We get out, I follow the signs, and was told I had to give my driver's license to get one of the big rolling boxes to carry all of our stuff. Side note, could not believe that I had to give my license for the rolling box that is bigger than our car...like how do you steal those?
We fill the rolling box and our ready to enter the dorm when the precious little Volunteer tells out that our move in time (totally different than check in time) is 3pm and we will have to broil in the sun with our contents until 3p. It is 11am.
I kindly tell her that there is NO way that will happen because we had to drive 9 hours home, so we could get other student to school the next day.
She agreed to let us go up the elevator.
We are like pack mules, but we find her room. She picks her side, and the process begins. In the room there is the mini fridge, so I reach down, plug it in and move it in front of the plug.
"Why did you move that fridge there? (With an icy edge to her voice)
"Because it has a special plug to make it cold and that is where the plug is".
"I don't want it there."
"Well, you don't have a choice" as I load waters into the fridge.
'Unplug it, I don't want it there."
I turn around to just lose it on her when I notice that the special bag of hangers, the bag ripped and there are 100 hangers laying all over this tiny room.
I reach down to pick up the hangers to prevent the ER visit and again, "what are you doing with the hangers?"
"Picking them up off the floor because right now they are layers and not hangers." (I seriously thought this was one of the wittiest things I had ever said. Nobody else got it.
"Mom, just stop, stop mom."
I wanted to reach for her but her brother, who had spent 10 minutes trying to get the Command strip placed EXACTLY where she wanted, thought he was finally victorious, when she said she wanted it moved a centimeter.
That was it for me. I grabbed my phone, a water and went out to the lobby to sit. I was done. I was either going to be done or push her out the little window in her room that overlooked a frat house. Great, just great. A frat house below her window.
I sat there for about twenty minutes when the next victim, her dad, came down the hall. I looked at him and laughed. "Want a seat?'
"She's a hot mess", he said.
"Let's go eat lunch, say our goodbyes and get out of here".
"I will go get them" and he started down the hall.
We settled on Mellow Mushroom. It was during this lunch that she confessed she was stressed out because she didn't know what position she should be in when her roommate arrived.
We were confused by this. "What do you mean by position?"
"I don't know how I should be laying on the bed?"
After we finished cracking up and regained our composure, she said she didn't get it.
"Addie, when you roommate comes to the door, aren't you going to get up and go to the door and open it for her?"
Seriously, we split the atom.
As we left Mellow Mushroom, Walker walks in between us and says, "we are almost there, we can do this". I cracked up.
We approach the dorm and pull right up in the front and we park and get out.
This was it, the final moment.
A policeman comes over and says, "sorry, you cannot park here".
We explain that we are dropping her off and this was our goodbye, and we would just be a minute. He asks if we would like our picture taken together. (How nice of him)
Of course, we say yes, and we all get close, and he takes the picture.
As Franklin goes back to say thank you and get his phone, my independent, sassy, zesty daughter starts bawling as she hugs her brother and then says, "I have made a mistake, I don't want to go in there, I want to go home".
Walker, who has some big eyes, looks at me with the biggest eyes I have ever seen and whispers, "mom what are you going to do?"
I yell at Franklin to come hug his child, he does, and she is now sobbing hysterically, and I grab her, turn her around to the door and say, "behind that door is a whole new adventure. you are going to have the adventure."
I 100 percent meant what I said. I also was 100 percent sure I was not repacking, loading and riding home with her. No way. She was staying.
She turned around and went inside.
About an hour later, she called. She read a letter I had left her with a package, cried, took a nap and woke up cause her roommate called and was arriving a day early. She was excited.
It was not a Hallmark movie, but I won the drop off.
It will be what it is supposed to be. Good luck parents and Go VOLS.
