I knew my son was happy at college when he dug out his Elf costume to bring back to school after fall break.
It’s hard with boys. It’s taken me nearly 23 years of marriage and two teenage boys to almost, kind of, understand the way a man’s mind works. My sons were my best friends in the whole world from birth until about kindergarten. All they wanted to do was be by my side. (My two girls, in contrast, both pushed their way out of the womb in lightening speed, as far as deliveries go, and have been marching independently ever since.)
My boys really adored me and separated ever-so-slowly when school started. Then sometime around those teenage years, my sons—particularly my oldest—went into his room, shut his door and we broke up. Every now and then, he shows a glimmer of interest and I jump at the opportunity. He may just ask a simple question and I chatter away trying to keep the line of communication open.
Now that he’s in college, just beginning his Freshman year, I made a point not to be one of those overbearing moms bombarding him with intrusive text messages. Instead I hunt for legitimate excuses.
A week into school, for instance, I found allergy medicine on his desk, I sent a text that went something like this: