New things

Life seems to have overtaken itself with great speed.

This last month has been a blur of A level results, university offers, gathering packing boxes, enquiring as to what will fit under the average bed at Aston Uni (answer - nothing much/ fluff?) harvesting kitchen things from relatives and making lists and lists of what will be needed. And I'm not even going...

My first child is about to leave home. If you have been through this you will be wearing a wry smile, if not you would not imagine the state of flux this has put a family of six into. Two younger children are vying to take over the soon-to-be-vacant bedroom, older child is alternating bad behaviour with despair at losing a sister. One parent swings between jokes about how many days to go and practical provision of computers and other technical stuff. . . I meanwhile am trying to do anything possible to take my mind off the situation.

I observe my Uni-bound daughter going through a strange process. Leaving some friends behind before she goes, signing off relationships which we all thought meant so much. I am so sure that this is not as serious as it seems to those who are feeling left behind. She seems to be trying to make space to embrace new things and needs a clear head to do this. I am positive it's about knowing herself well and not being able to cope with too much - like having a messy desk and being unable to work until it's filed and sorted out. I am just crossing my fingers that her truly-loved friends can see this for what it is.

"It feels like if I don't pack I won't have to go". The last comment made by Uni-bound daughter as she ran out of the door tonight for another "I'm leaving home" booze-up, this one with work colleagues.

She goes in two days and nothing is sorted. I have done nothing more than gently chivvying to encourage the packing. I imagine that on Saturday morning we will throw all the very important beer glasses, clothes, and hair straighteners, along with the unneccessary cutlery, crockery and cleaning gear into some boxes and go up the M6 - this has to be the only way to leave home! There will be no time for tears nor tantrums.

When I left home it was on a National Express coach with one over-stuffed bag and a wedge of money. Needs seem to have become more complicated, as well as a credit card and several bank accounts, a multitude of electrical appliances and a new outfit for each day of the first fortnight are mandatory. Apparently after the first fortnight, "no one will care what they look like..."

My action plan is as follows:

• Tell anyone who cries that every time I think about Uni-bound daughter, I feel like crying too and bargain that if they don't cry I won't either.
• Try to remember what it's like to be damned scared of doing something new.
• Buy something wholesome and filling every time I go shopping, on returning from the supermarket open Uni-bound daughter's bedroom door and throw this item in.
• Know that it will all happen in it's own time and just go with it!
• As usual say "Yes" to anything people ask for - in particular things I have never done before - logic here is that having something massively scary to do takes my mind off worrying about the impending 'leaving thing'.

The reality is that I will cry when no one is looking, worry that she will be OK, text her to distraction and check her Facebook account to see she's alive if I don't hear from her every day - but please don't tell her!