Get a Grip!

Emotional Checklist for Mothers of College Freshmen

By Carolyn (4) McBryde

Please read the following statements to determine your base score:

1 point Your child attends college in your hometown.
2 points Your child is close enough to come home weekends.
3 points Your child only comes home for major holidays.
4 points Your child spends Christmas with another family.
5 points Your child has to have a passport to come home.

_____ (Base Score)

You get (1 point) extra credit if you answer yes to any of the following statements:

_____ There has been a recent death in the family.
_____ There is a serious illness in the family.
_____ You have lost your job or pet.
_____ There is a family wedding in the next 6 months.
_____ You are still paying on the last wedding.
_____ This is your first child.
_____ This is your last child.
_____ This is your favorite child.

You also have a child entering:
_____ Preschool
_____ Kindergarten
_____ Middle School
_____ High School
_____ Military
_____ A different university
_____ Other (Feel free to explain in great detail)

_____ (Extra Credit Total)



Base Score _____
Extra Credit _____
Total _____



Get a Grip!

1999 was a very emotional summer for our family. In July, my dad died unexpectedly. We were sending our first child away to Abilene Christian University a few weeks later. Granted it was back to a town we had lived in and loved for several years, but the emotional impact was still great.
Traditionally, the first Sunday of Welcome Week is a time of blessing the ACU freshmen and their families at the Highland church. My mind was flooded with memories as I thought of the years we had worshipped in this very auditorium with our little boys. I fought back tears during the Sunday morning assembly. Matt had been looking forward to this moment for months, and I didn’t want to spoil his joy by falling apart.
After we were dismissed, I was making my way over to greet some friends, when I ran into a couple that I had known as a teenager. The reunion was sweet. After getting over the shock that I was now old enough to have a child going to college, they began asking about my family. “And how are your parents?”
Obviously, they had not been told. “Thank you for asking. I’m sorry no one called you. Daddy had surgery last month and wasn’t able to make it off of the respirator. He died a few weeks ago. Mother is doing amazingly well.” Their eyes filled with tears as they embraced me and offered their sympathy. All of the emotion I had been holding back during worship came pouring out.
My mascara was smeared, my nose was red, and I was out of tissues. I could imagine what the other parents of college students were thinking. (“That woman needs to get a grip!”)
I wanted to explain to them that these were tears for my dad, not my son. Or were they? My friend, Maria came to the rescue. We hugged and she began to wail. “I know just how you feel! I can’t stand the thought of Emily being gone! I’m going to miss her so much! This is sooooo hard!”
I immediately dried up and said, “Isn’t Emily staying here and going to ACU?”
“Yes.” she sobbed.
“Maria,” I said. ”She’ll be down the street.”
“I know, but it just won’t be the same!”
How dare she think that her grief compared to mine! Matt would be 3 ½ hours away. That was a totally different situation. After all, he was our first. And my dad had just died. I had a lot more to cry about than she did.
I turned and saw Marilyn. Her twins were the same age as Matt. One was staying at ACU and the other was headed for A&M. (about a 4-hour drive). She was recovering from breast cancer and losing her only two kids at the same time! It was okay for her to cry. A lot more okay than it was for Maria.
Next, Dion put his arm around me, “It’s okay. My mom cried all the way home when she left me at college.”
“Where did you go to school?” I asked.
“Harding, in Arkansas.” He said.
I needed to calculate the mileage. “Where were you living at the time?”
“Germany.”
Well, that settled it. His mom won the prize for the most legitimate reason to cry. Then I began to listen (a novel idea) as other parents began to share their stories. One husband had recently lost his job and they had two kids at ACU at the same time. Another was grieving over sending her baby boy to college. At least I still had Scott at home for another couple of years. (Oh, and my husband.)
I found myself evaluating everyone’s situation and rating them accordingly. Then it occurred to me. There should be a system. Our score would be based off of the number of traumatic things that were going on in our lives as we were sending our kids away. We could wear the numbers, say, on our visitor’s tag, and immediately be aware of the moms who were having an especially difficult time.
I would be wearing a 4, (first child, close enough to come home on weekends) but I would be careful not to whine in front of a 7 (one child in town, one close enough to come home on weekends, first child AND last child, recent illness…that equals 6, but I give Marilyn extra credit for having twins). On the other hand, if I walked by a 2, (your first kid is down the street) well, that lady just needs to get a grip, Maria!
At the school where I teach, 3 of us were sending our boys to college. I was a 4, Naomi was a first child close enough to come home 3, and Phyllis was a wimpy 1. Her second one was just going 30 minutes away. I thought I was the winner, until I began to notice a few things. Her son came home a lot. I mean a LOT. And brought friends. That were hungry. And had dirty laundry. Did I mention that they came home a lot?
She knew when he was supposed to be where, and worried when he wasn’t. It was only natural to ask if he had any homework and she felt obligated to check on his projects. They were paying for a dorm room, but he never quite moved out, to give her the guest room she had always dreamed of. I showed her my checklist in November. She rolled her eyes as she handed it back. “It would be much easier if he was out of town. Moms of kids who stay in town should have a base score of 6!”
What a whiner.
She needs to get a grip.