My daughter is currently having the time of her life in Costa Rica, courtesy of the Spanish Club at her school and her father, who really stepped up to the plate and fronted 2/3 of the cost of the trip.
She's staying in hotels with WiFi, so I asked her to please post some pictures to Facebook and also to use Facebook messenger to get in touch with all of us so that she's not using her data plan.
There have been five pictures in seven days. Four of them were all in one day and two in the other, so it's hardly an even distribution. And messages? A few words at most. Day before yesterday, she didn't send a message all day.
I was trying not to sound too nuts the couple of times I messaged her.
Hope you're having fun!
What's up for today!
Of course, I can't very well say what I really mean:
Why aren't you messaging your mother?
Are you being held at gunpoint by a drug cartel?
Did the volcano erupt again?
Are you in a hospital under sedation and your teacher is too scatterbrained to call me?
Okay, that last one is unfair...her teacher is fine. I'm the one who's nuts. But in my defense, my daughter is making me that way by having too much fun and no real need to reassure her mother about it. That particular day of no communication, they were at a waterpark all day and then on the bus for several hours - all without any WiFi, of course. Which made me feel like an idiot for bugging her like I did.
Motherhood is all about bonding to the molecular level and then learning to let go by increments. If you're doing your job well, you become obsolete. Well, at least until they have one of their own and need to know how you managed to keep them alive for eighteen years.
It's all about the little bits of walking away. To the end of the yard, then the end of the street, then onto the bus or through the school doors, then into a car or a dorm or an apartment, and you get to figure out how to step back and watch them walk away with a smile - and without losing your entire freaking mind.
At least not in front of them, anyway.