Dear Kid,

I’m having flashbacks.

Three years ago we moved you into your first college dorm room. Today, we move Pi into her first dorm room.

You would think I’d have gotten used to the idea that she is headed to college. And you’d be right. I’m more or less used to the idea. Which doesn’t mean I have to be comfortable with it.

I’m not.

Or that I like it.

And I’m not sure I do.

Don’t get me wrong. I am thrilled for her that she’s starting a wonderful, exciting new chapter of her life. I’m delighted she’s going to a school she wants to go to (although maybe not so delighted about the out-of-state tuition). And I wish for her nothing but fabulous experiences. I couldn’t be more proud of the woman she’s growing up to be.

But…

My baby isn’t so much a baby anymore.

Gone are the wildly swinging pig-tails that warned everyone a certain 7 year old soccer player was to be taken seriously. Very seriously. Gone are the braces. Gone is the need for a certain omnipresent stuffed animal. Gone are the chubby cheeks (well, they’re back this week but only because she just had her wisdom teeth out). Gone are the skinned knees (ok, those she still has). Gone is the backpack bigger than she is.

Still here are the enormous eyes, huge smile, and even bigger heart. Still here is the ability to laugh with others and at herself. Still here is the drive, the determination, the strength of character that make her who she is.

But “here” isn’t here anymore. It’s now there.

And I will miss that child.

It doesn’t get any easier.

(Which means later this afternoon would be an excellent time to text your mother that you love her and still need a mom.)

Love, Mom