38. Re-arrange/ re-decorate my bedroom, or Anti- Nesting? Cleaning?

Since Mac's left for college, I've become a freak about a cleaning project. The attic that Mac and I shared was full of our stuff, huge piles of my parent's stuff, piles of my Bro's stuff, and then stuff that no one would claim so I guess it was piles of strangers' stuff. When I moved in the attic didn't look to bad except the closet was a catch all for... everything. And Daddy-O canNOT say that he stuck things in the closet since I moved in. There was stuff in that closet that hadn't seen the light of day since 1996! And in one corner, behind some furniture, were boxes and piles of... other stuff.

Mac and I lived in between the stuff.

Until now.

A week ago Sunday, I decided to clean that room. I was sick of looking at the mess and with some of Mac's junk gone, I thought I could at least tackle it. And, in complete honesty here, Mac would never help when I asked so I was usually pissed when I thought about doing it before; I was pissed that he would turn around and make it messy again, and finally, because his 45" flat screen tv is now gone and I don't have to worry about bumping it.

So, I started, with the help of ITSam, last Sunday.

First, I had to clean out the closet because some of the piles of stuff behind Mac's bed were going in my closet. So I had to do that first. I found lots of Christmas things, an old set of barbells, some of my Bro's knives, half missing pieced puzzles, and numerous other items that went straight into the trash, or to Goodwill, depending. The closet took about 3 hours to clean. This is a huge closet- it's the width between a twin and full sized bed and is about 12 feet long. Yes, a closet around the size of a room, but it's totally a closet. ITSam and I lugged crap up and down stairs, to and from the garage, and to the trash and the car.

Next, I tackled the piles behind Mac's bed- stuff went into the closet and then to all the other aforementioned locations. I even found some of my mom's old paperwork from when she was a social worker, which was about 6 years old, according the the dates on the papers (we shredded these and then tossed 'em.). I gave my SisIL in a box of my Bro's knives. Things you think you'll never say: "hey, thanks for the loaning me the book. By the way, take home this huge box of Bro's knives, would ya please?"

Then last week, we work a few evenings: vacuuming and taking bags of trash downstairs.

Then last night and tonight, we kicked the room's butt. We took down my Christmas trees (I love my pink trees and they make me happy so I leave them up all the time but I needed to take them down for this project!), we vacuumed, we dusted, we moved all the furniture around, we dusted some more, I cleaned off the dresser tops and clean out my jewelry armoire, we vacuumed and dusted SOME MORE, we moved a bookcase upstairs and filled it with all my books and magazines, we put away laundry, sorted the piles I found under Mac's bed, and did I mention we dusted and vacuumed all over the place?

Now there are no piles of anything. There's space for Greco-Roman Wrestling in the middle of the floor, according to ITSam's sense of humor, or for a couch, according to Daddy-O! I think neither because I just want to revel in the open space of it all. I don't have to climb over piles of laundry or weave in and out of a path of boxes, dirty clothes, Rock Band instruments, barbels, or a globe. Everything has a place.

This would've been the best post for before and after pictures. I have none of each. I didn't think to take pictures of before and without 'before' the after doesn't seem like such a huge deal.

And to think, Mac and I lived in this huge space that was made tiny because we looked like an episode of Hoarders and now I feel like I'm living in a ballroom. All after he left. Weird.

I don't think I was ever so obsessed with a cleaning and organizing project as I was with this one. I can't even explain it. I just HAD to clean it. I do think, however, several things:

• My mom always said to leave a place in better shape than I found it. I'm not planning on leaving the attic anytime soon (sorry Daddy-O)!) but it will be easy to follow her advise if I were.
• Mac is sharing a 12x12 room with another teenage boy at college. Now when he comes home on the weekends and sees his part of the attic- his part is 15x15- it will be really clean and he'll be able to spread out, even though he's still sharing it with me (the whole thing is about 15x33 so each of us have about 15x15. the other 3 can be the stairs!) so he might feel more at ease
• I needed to declutter and control something.

Ah, yes.... use your best Freud voice here: "You need to be in control of something?"

Yeah, well.... like I said, do we call it de-nesting with the kid leaves home and mom goes on a cleaning frenzy? Or do we just call it cleaning?

I'm counting this as a 40 before 40 item because it was a LOT of work!

Mags

Part III- Mac at college, so far....

The very first morning he was there he sent me a text and asked me where his wallet was located! How the heck should I know since I don't live there? He was in a panic that he'd already lost his social security card and he'd only had it in his possession for 21 hours. I told him to shake out his bedding or go through his pants he wore the day before and check pockets. He texted me back shortly and said he found it in pants- and how did I know that? Gee, I wonder... duh!

He also called or texted me several times the first week. He wanted to know if I had an Ethernet cable. He wanted to know if I could sew on a button when he came home. He wanted money. He wanted to know phone numbers of people he could use for a personal reference on his job application. It's like he'd never left, except I didn't have to cook for him and I knew where my car was located (in the driveway!!!!)

He wanted my help on an English since he was paranoid about it. He read me the assignment and it was supposed to be an outline. Why did she only want an outline? What was she trying to do? What was the objective of the assignment? Where should he focus? I have no idea, I told him, since I wasn't the teacher. But my guess was that she wanted to see several things: 1) could he organize his thoughts; 2) follow directions; 3)know how to take notes; 4) did he understand what senor images and memoir meant. So he does the assignment and then calls me the next day to tell me he totally over thought the assignment- he said the class is full of "fu**tards"<-- this is his word! I said then he should see if he could test out of the class. He said, and I quote, "Nahhhhhhhhhhh, I need help on my writing too. I'm the smartest fu**tard in there, though." Gee, that's nice to know.

He also got a low grade on his first assignment in history and he was devastated. He said that is meant that he wasn't cut out to go to college, he might as well work at McDonald's and live and g'pa's attic forever, and give up his dreams of being a lawyer since he was so pathetic. Huge pity party. So we talked about what he did and didn't do and a new approach. I heavily suggested a meeting with the Prof, right away. Then he told me it was only worth 30 points, he got a C+ on it, and when weighted with the other homework assignments it was only worthy 15% of his total and final grade! Ugh!!!!! I should've asked that to begin with!

He's called to tell me about fellow students, classes, meetings, food, and his roommate. Guess his roommate used $2 on his Playstation account and Mac took the bull by the horns. He told him to NOT do it again. Mac's theory was that if he let it go now, he would do it again, or worse. He said he has to live with this guy so he wants him to know the limits that Mac will tolerate. Wow! Mac said he was nice about it, but he was "assured and non nonsense" in handling it. He said he didn't play it off as a joke so the Roommate knew he was serious. O-kay!

He's studying LOTS, which is awesome. He's done every assignment, including all the reading. He likes his classes. Overall, he says it's a learning experience, he loves the learning, he LOVES being on his own, but the jury is still out how he feels about the school as a whole.

So, even though he's gone, he's staying in contact. Lots of contact!

And he's coming home this weekend for the long holiday. Should be interesting.

Mac's Mom,
Maggie

Part II- reflecting about taking Mac to college

Okay, so it was a good day. The weather held; it didn't rain until around 5:30pm. We had 50 people carry all his crap up to his room. Everyone was nice and helpful. Mac was in good spirits but was nervous. His roommate seemed nice- and right away they figured out they loved the same music. They both have divorced parents so they could understand each other like that. We did a good job of getting stuff for school- we hardly had to buy anything. I was thrilled that I brought XL Twin sheets and Regular Twin sheets so he had the right size, no matter what. His RA was nice and introduced himself and explained the basics to us both. Mac's bed was lofted and a bunch of guys helped him and they were nice. His TV and computer hooked up without a hitch. A bunch of guys came to his room to introduce themselves to Mac, and to me. Student ID's print in 45 seconds, and lines were short. Mac's cell phone has excellent service there. It really was a good day. Really.

It was just strange to leave him there. I did my job as a parent right, I know, because he wanted to be there. He wanted to go. That's what's usually supposed to happen. You have a kid and you raise them and if they want to go to college, you gear everything toward that without being overbearing and you be supportive and then BAM- you find yourself leaving them with 25 strangers in his dorm "hall" and driving away in a borrowed mini-van, crying. Or some variation.

I want him to succeed and do well. Of course I do. What sort of ogre would I be if I didn't want that? I do want him to do well. But I miss him. I wanted him to ask me to stay, or to not go. Or to stand and wave at me as I drove away. But it was like his first day of kindergarten- I dropped him off and he barely closed the car door as he raced up the sidewalk, nary a backward glance. He's been like that always, so I don't know why I thought leaving him at college would be any different. But I still wanted him to stand and look at me.

It's a time of mourning, to a certain extent. You know that? I know what lose is- my mom died a few years ago, so I understand a huge loss to death, and, I have to admit, to a certain extent this feel like that. It's been Mac and me against the world for almost 16 years. Just us. And then there he goes, to start his own life. And things will never be the same again. He won't be coming home again- at least not for good. And no one sends you a sympathy card for this. No one brings a casserole or a noodle salad (Or wine). Instead people joke about it, or talk about empty nest, like it's okay.,

And I know it will be okay. I do.

But right now, my life is a whole different perspective. I never asked for this. I never wanted an empty nest; I can do things with Mac, I always have. I'm used to it. I don't have a husband that I need to "get to know again" like some couples. I don't have a hobby I've neglected. I'm still me, and I'm still Mac's mom, but now Mac is... on his own. And my son is enough of me, he's how I raised him so he will follow his dreams. He's go to college, he'll go to law school, he'll study abroad and probably end up at UC Berkley. I am proud and I do want him to succeed. I do.

But it doesn't make this easier. It doesn't stop me from missing him.

Mac's Mom,
Maggie

In about 14 hours, he's gone

Okay, today has been spent packing up Mac's stuff so he can head to college tomorrow, buying the last minute things I forgot, hanging out with Mac, doing his laundry, packing the borrowed mini-van...

I've only had 2 small minor breakdowns (so far, and neither in front of Mac), and two Xanix.

Please pray for us, for me, for him... I drop him off tomorrow morning between 10-11am.

My baby's going to university. He's flying the nest.

Okay, I can do this. Right? I can.

Oh help....

Mac's mama no matter how old he is,
Maggie