\u201cAnd that last 18 years of upbringing will be put to test in 18 days and I\u2019m scared!\u201d <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n As a parent, I always wished to get my kids into a 4-year college degree for a better life. Getting my first daughter admitted into a college of her choice, was almost like a dream come true. We felt accomplished. We celebrated! But then this summer, before her college journey begins, it started to sink in. She will be leaving the nest and flying away. Today morning I woke up knowing that she will be gone in exact 18 days from now! Now I\u2019m wondering if I had wished for something else. I have started hating my dream. Why?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019ll miss her like crazy. I can\u2019t imagine my life without her. My main job as a parent has been to protect her and teach her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m far from a perfect parent but I\u2019m not ready to lose this job just yet.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m scared if she is ready for the world that may not be kind to her. Have I prepared her enough to make the right decisions? Will she be able to balance her learning and social life? I haven\u2019t learned yet how to balance work and life. I\u2019m not sure if at a tender age of 18 years, she can. Will she be able to push back on her peer, not give into the pressure and do something she may regret for a long time? I don\u2019t know. It\u2019s my test as a mom and educator.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So far, whether it was a toddler tantrum or a meltdown in high school, I have been there to hug her and comfort her. Whether it was a scratch from falling from a bicycle or small dent in her first car, I was there to reassure her that everything will be alright. Whether it was a nasty eczema in elementary school or scrapes and cuts from someone pushing her down the stairs in middle school, I was there to get her the best of best resources. And now \u2013 I will not see any of that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI know she won\u2019t tell me any meltdowns, or accidents or scrapes.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n I won\u2019t be there to help her or hug her. In regular phone call, there will be a lot to talk about and both of us will hide our pain, knowing that other person is 10 hours away and can\u2019t do much anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She will be in a completely strange city, in a strange building with absolutely 100% strangers that she has never met in her life. I\u2019m scared for her. Even if she is absolutely fine, I\u2019ll be speculating that there is something wrong and she is just not telling me, even if everything is alright. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy mind is already contemplating the worst-case scenarios.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m already planning that in case of emergency, how I will drop everything, book a ticket, sit through excruciatingly painful 10 hours and finally see her in person. It will feel like eternity!<\/p>\n\n\n\n She is packing her bags, and I am bracing for the biggest emotional turbulence of my life. How will I leave her at her dorm and walk away? I feel a million stabs in my heart and a deep sinking feeling in my stomach. I have been crying quietly into my pillow, feeling helpless as I struggle to accept that this is the natural course of life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When I walk into her bedroom, the empty space will hurt the most. It reminds me of when my father left me at my dorm 33 years ago, in August, just before my 16th birthday. I still remember the stabbing pain in my heart, the heavy rain, and the sounds and smell of that day. That memory remains etched in my heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And I know the day I leave my daughter at her dorm in 18 days, will be etched in my memory with much deeper cuts.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n #tellyourstory #collegeadmissons #DiaryofaWimpyMom<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Chapter 1: When you fear your best dream! Parents wish the best for their kids. Parents work hard in raising their kids, preparing them for 18 years before they let them fly into the world. I did too. \u201cAnd that last 18 years of upbringing will be put to test […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":127,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[55],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-126","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-cirkled-in-specific"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/126","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=126"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/126\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/127"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=126"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=126"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=126"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.cirkledin.com\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/07\/image-1024x683.jpeg\")
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