A pancake and ukulele send-off

So today was the last full day at home before it's time to bring Amanda back to St. Kate's for her sophomore year of college. As I was going downstairs, I poked my head in her room, and saw her asleep on her bed with her cell phone next to her and her laptop still open in front of her, holding onto her stuffed unicorn.

I made pancakes for breakfast, because she loves pancakes. It was an unruly looking stack, but there were only a few leftover. (She also loves leftover pancakes.)

Having her home this summer has been great. Though I don't understand why every room in the house has been strewn with her belongings. Was she marking her territory?

Here's her stuffed cat Cheetoh, and her blanket, on the living room sofa. She loves that cat, but honestly it freaks me out. She keeps taking pictures of it with my cell phone and re-setting the default home screen to Cheetoh pictures.

 

My dining room table appears to have grown a ukulele, a bag of corn chips, a portable file folder, and various other items. None of which are mine. Except for the candle centerpiece.

 

Amanda's room- the storm before the calm. I told her that anything still out when she leaves will get shoved in her closet. (and miraculously, a couple hours later, the floor was clear!)  

It is a bittersweet thing- watching your child grow up. As a parent, your goal is to raise them to become kind, caring, productive members of society. You do your best, you make some mistakes, and then you hold your breath. The process is an amazing roller coaster of epic proportions; it is heart-wrenching when they suffer, joy-filled when they are happy.

There is no greater responsibility and no greater privilege. I have been a single parent for most of my daughter's life, but I have not been alone. My friends, family, and church have stepped in when needed and been god-parents and mentors to my daughter. The network of people who have grown to love  and care for her, has grown far beyond our tight circle of just me and her.

I can't wait to see what's ahead in my weird, nerdy, funny, creative, smart, wonderful (and sometimes exasperating) daughter's life as she navigates the world of growing into an adult. I am so grateful for this crazy journey.

And tomorrow night when I come home to my (relatively) peaceful house, I may sigh in relief for the new year starting, but I'll surely also miss the slight chaos that thoughtfully reminds me of just how blessed I've been.