In one Basket

I am terrified that we are in big trouble. Seriously. This keeps me awake at night ALL the time.  Treska and I spent hours on her college applications. Hours. Lots and lots of time. We edited and re-edited sentences, paragraphs. I worked on her transcript, putting her very it together conventionally. I really rallied. Treska did too. We worked together, sometimes hysterically. Sometimes calmly. Very productively. We got it done. We submitted it to Bard.

And nowhere else.

Yes. That is the cause of my nightmare. Bard is one of the most expensive schools in the USA. (Also one of the most radical.) But any of you who know us, even a little, know that money is not ours. Falko is in full-time school becoming a Nurse. I am at a non-profit Birth Center. We work because we love it. We have no assets and we juggle in a beautiful sort of way. Really. I actually don’t think of it much…except now.

When were at Bard for the interview we both fell in love. We fell desperately and emotionally in love with the campus, with the beauty, the intellectual stimulation that was poignantly available at all turns. The trees! The expansive grassy fields. The small mountains in the distance. The new farm. My memories were washing over me in a way that I can’t even describe. Painful, yet full of heart and sensation. We left the campus for a second, just to take an emotional break.

Treska was falling so hard for the school and still didn’t know if she would be accepted. I wanted it so badly for her as I remembered how formative it was for me. How powerful. We drank Chai instead.

So when she found out, when she received that letter…., we were so happy and only focused on the big fast “Yes!” We didn’t apply anywhere else. Nope. We didn’t.

So we are super seriously hoping for either a scholarship or massive financial aid package from Bard. Pressing our thumbs!

Accepted!

My stomach felt ill as I walked into the Post Office. It was way out-of-the-way and everyone said the letter couldn’t be there yet. Why should I go?  I had to look, of course. I looked yesterday too. It was mailed on Monday. Mail doesn’t get here early, but I so hoped it would be here before Thanksgiving. And it came!

I opened the small post office box and it was quietly lying there. On top. The insignia was there! It made me ill. I had put way too much weight on what it would say. I was terrified of being crushed. I realize this is not even about me. It’s my daughter. But I am one of those way over-invested parents. Not cool at all. Not relaxed. I identify way too much with my daughter’s failures and successes. I realize it is a problem.

I allowed those choices to be made. Treska asked to be homeschooled…and the only thing that terrified me about making the choice was college. The task was daunting as it was, but to apply after an unconventional education felt insanely overwhelming.

One of my sweetest pregnant clients ever was a college counselor. She patiently met with Treska and I, handed me tissues as I cried with trepidation and angst. I was so scared we wouldn’t be able to portray the education Treska had in the small blank spaces on the online form. I hated the idea of trying to make her unconventional education look traditional.  She walked us through the process. It was new for her too. She had never worked with a homeschooled kid, but was willing to try. She had a seriousness about her and there were  no jolly reassurances, just quiet suggestions and lots of rewriting for Treska. She did a wonderful job.

After running back to the car and showing Kaya the letter, I called Treska and told her it had arrived. She said I absolutely had to wait until I got home. She wanted to be together while she opened it. No, I shouldn’t just tear it open and put us all out of our misery.

Then I found more errands to do, ’cause I didn’t want to have the hope be over. As long as the letter wasn’t open, there was still the possibility!  We drove around. Here there and it felt like everywhere…..

We finally arrived home. Everyone was there! Treska began to open the letter. Then the screaming commenced. My throat is actually still sore. We don’t know if she will be able to go – it happens to be one of the ten most expensive schools in the US, but it doesn’t matter. We will try everything to get her there. She will apply for scholarships and financial aid. I am so proud and so happy. And so confirmed. It worked! We homeschooled and our daughter was accepted to an amazing college, her first choice.

Thank you!

 

 

Seeking Acceptance

And home again.  Hard to wrap my mind around the co-existing worlds out there. The divine insanity of NYC and the serenity in the sun here. Welcomed home last night with freshly made guacamole a protein packed salad and a glass of red wine.

I slept peacefully.

And now I am doing everything I can to not obsessively wait for the letter from Bard. It is unfortunate how much I want Treska to be accepted. It has everything to do with my life-changing experience at Bard and it takes my entire will power to recognize that this is not  a personal triumph or defeat. Yes! I know it is that overcompensating thing again. As if, somehow, the acceptance will lend validity to our homeschooling choices. And it does – and it shouldn’t!

But it does.

Mostly I want to imagine Treska in the beauty that is upstate New York surrounded by these mentors – the engaged faculty. The cutting edge curriculum. Soaking it up. Living and breathing the discussion that is Bard. I want her to have access to the intellectual delights to be discovered around the wooden tables in those classrooms.  The passion and love of learning that is promoted. She has these things already and I realize that the key to happiness is continued curiosity.

Looking for my patience and acceptance. Looking for my own ability to surrender. I hope I find it.

Nineteen years ago!

So grateful for the longevity of friendship…..My two closest college friends (and their families) came to have a reunion this year at my home. Three years ago we had it on Lummi Island in Washington – and it was just beautiful. Although my mind is filled with pictures, emotions, stories and memories, Bard College was many, many years ago.  I love that we have managed to remain close and that our children and husbands truly know each other and have the best conversations and times together.

Kaya's bedroom this week.....

Gosh, I looked forward to this for weeks and weeks and feel sad that it is over. I am even exhausted…. we stayed up so late, every night, drinking wine, eating chocolate  and talking, talking, talking. I went to bed last night and purposely did not look at the clock. The sun was coming up over the mountain as I climbed in bed, and, as someone who is often awake during sunrise, I knew what time it was! The boys and children went to bed at reasonable times  - both dogs lay by our feet and Stace, Hester and I  really went there together – to those places that we know in each other so well and not so well. With who else can we be so vulnerable and so known?

Time does really create trust perhaps. I love the conversations we have together, the ability we have to listen to each other and to love each other. I respect and admire these women, their husbands and want to absolutely eat up all their children.  I want to spend more time exploring the places we were able to explore together.

We soaked at Ojo Caliente – the hot springs, we made yummy food, marveled at the children. I loved the reminder of what it is like to live with small children. These children were engaged, curious, focused and fun. I would love every single one of them to be mine! Kaya was in another Theater production with Missoula Children’s Theater and this was a fantastic Saturday afternoon activity for all of us. We hiked to the river, we bathed, we went to an outdoor live music concert at the Plaza. We sat at our outdoor table, under the hummingbird feeders and snacked, chatted, crocheted, knit.  It was full and rich.

I was able to enjoy my home with legos everywhere, food overflowing from our counters, table and fridge, dogs and children squealing, dishes done and undone, laundry overflowing, again. It’s quiet now, it didn’t take long to tidy up, mop, sweep  - I’m tired, on the couch, drinking tea, eating a tomato sandwich with barely my eyes open. And I’m missing everyone.