Hello, my lovely internets. I have missed you.
The semester is finished at last — only a few delinquents left to submit late grades for — and I am looking forward to catching up with my blog writing and reading. The end of the semester, with its inevitable headaches, long nights, and assorted flusterations, was also when Sugar’s job sent her overseas again while the Bean simultaneously began having another growth spurt and begin teething for his molars. Being extra, extremely, omg hungry while it really, really hurts to eat is, it turns out, a pretty wretched combination.
The moment my grades were in, we piled into a borrowed car and headed north. The thing about living with a baby but without a car is that you never know how a car ride will go, since so much time passes between them. Let’s just say that I now know more about the Westfield mall, in Orange, Connecticut, than I ever expected to. Thank God, he slept after that, at least a little.
All that driving was worth it, though, to be here, on the campus of our shared alma mater. (You’re totally shocked at which school it is, am I right? Not predictable At All, that one.) I really do love this place and its people. I love seeing old friends, but I also love that the other alums I meet for the first time are almost always kindred spirits. It’s beautiful, and I feel so glad that I broke the (rarely kept) taboo on dating within the dorm (“house booty is bad booty”), since this way we get to go to twice as many reunions. That’s not the only reason I married her, of course, but it didn’t hurt….
[lest you think I’ve gone entirely soft and sweet, I will report that I have already seen walking on campus one fellow alum I would gleefully push off the dock. Sisterly feeling is not always positive. She was pushing a stroller, which annoys me, my own stroller notwithstanding. Yes, I know that’s hypocritical, and no, I don’t care.]
It turns out it’s also a very pleasant place to bring a baby. Plenty of grass to gambol on and wood chips to chew, a range of acceptable breakfast food in the dining hall, easily charmed students to smile at. It occurs to me that we’d better see if my father will take him to his reunions sometimes — which I have extremely fond childhood memories of — just so he doesn’t think boys can’t go to college.
My parents, who have three advanced degrees between them, claimed to others when I was a child that their only firm educational goal for me was to graduate from high school. It’s an open question how much truth was in that declaration; I was such a nerdy kid that it must have been obvious early that they were unlikely to me to push me to go to college, and it’s transparently evident now that my father wishes I had gone to med school. (and I wish he’d said as much at the time; I was such a pleaser I would probably have done it and have some money now. I still think I’d basically enjoy a medical education — it’s just that I don’t especially want to be a doctor.).
Still, I agree in principle with the idea of high school as non-negotiable, everything else up for discussion. The economic benefits to a college degree are significant, but we certainly know smart, successful, happy people without them. I hope that if the Bean doesn’t turn out like Sugar and me in that respect, that we will celebrate and appreciate what he does love to do.
…and now he is up from his nap, ready to show us what he loves to do today.