Paralysis? Not Again.

It's college Spring Break 2011 here in Indiana. Spawn visited for two days while going to his annual medical checkups, and it was a nice time. He works in the Biology lab at school, so I'm not complaining that he had to be there some this week. We can always use his money.

You know that song Julie Andrews sings in The Sound of Music - something good about childhood? Hang on. I'll google. You can listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mAE8B09jptA. This is how I feel about Spawn and the way he's turned out.  I mean he's not all there he is, standing there, loving me, as the lyrics go. It's not THAT kind of something good. But somewhere, somehow, somebody up there must be overlooking the wicked and loving us pretty fine.

Spawn is finishing college in three years. Booyah, $25K saved. When people have asked if he helps out financially, I have always replied, "He started with a semester of AP class credits, he had two small scholarships, and he's attended two summers and worked two summers. And he has a 3.4 GPA. He has very much done his part, that kid." The graduation plan, as I knew it, was that he'd U-Haul it back to Indianapolis in August after his last class and work at the Broad Ripple Brew Pub where he's worked on and off since high school. He'd live on the cheap with a Pub friend, take the GRE in the fall, and find just the right grad school for 2012.

Well, Sunday night, during a commercial, he casually mentioned his whole new plan. "Lots of the people who work at the Pub came back after college, and they've never left. I don't want that to happen to me." Point well taken as Mama would not be happy with that ROI, either. So, this summer, he's taking the GRE and applying for temporary DNR (Dept of Natural Resources) research park jobs that start in the fall. (One he liked but that started too soon, as an example, involved taking samples in State parks between Maine and Virginia. Lil' angel bastard.) Then, while working in his field, he'll apply to grad schools for next year.

The bottom line is, after August, he could be anywhere and more than likely not in Indiana. I told him that if the timing required him to stay with me, it would be fine no matter where I was. He said, "Thanks, but I actually have a place to stay, if I need it."

Gone again. I went through PSM's Paralysis Stage once before, and it was harsh. Took me almost two years to get through. This isn't quite the same. This time, it's for good.

So somewhere in my youth or childhood, as the song goes, I must have done something good. Actually, what a good job HE did!! Yay us/him/me, right? Right. But. Freedom. I've never been free before. It's paradoxical, I know, but I'm paralyzed by it. Again. I can't deal with (*any expression like that is extremely relative during this time of Japan) two more years of it. In 2013, I'll be 50, for God's sake. When the real hardening of things starts to kick in.

**Any and all words of wisdom and motion are welcomed and appreciated.

New car, caviar, four star daydream

Money. It's a gas. So they say. Just when I started thinking about how expensive my kid was when he was little, he turned into a teenager. And before I had a chance to adjust, then came college. I don't think I'll ever recoup these recent losses. Spawn's gravitating toward Botany of all things, and while I'm very happy that he's found his groove, Botany isn't going to get me the old-age wing in his house that I thought we had agreed upon years ago.

Believe it or not, the advantage to college is that the money flying out the doors and windows is in one lump sum each month, not the teen "Hey, mom, I need $50 for shoelaces and mouth guards", "Oh yea, when do you need it?", "Uhhh, Coach said yesterday" conversations.

Luckily, for me anyway, I was beside myself with unidentified grief (I was in the Paralysis Stage but had no idea) his freshman year, so money didn't even matter much. I wasn't spending anything or going anywhere. I wasn't even going food shopping until I started to feel dizzy. And besides, it made me feel like I was still needed.

But now? I've been through Rehab and been needed enough, thank you very much. I'm good. Really. In fact, I think I'm knee-deep in Flirtation because I'm trying on new things and have, frankly, developed quite a case of the wanderlust. So these college bills are stepping on my last nerve. I'm ready for the little birdie to fly away. "You're going that way?" "Cool, I'll go this way. And, FYI, I'm taking my money with me."

As I look back, the Stages of PSM have been perfectly timed. They've been gradual and as kind to me as they could be. I talk a lot, but if I were free of this college bill right now, I might just tease my hair, put on some leg warmers and turn into 23-year-old me. Nobody wants that. So, for this next and last year, I'm thinking I'll be all dreamy about Satisfaction. Well, as I have time between all the hot flashes, bouts of insomnia, and mood swings.

Just One

*It just takes remembering one conversation like this to feel not so bad about losing our lil' angels to Fall semesters. PLEASE tell me you have one of these to hang on to!! :) Comment below or send me an email!

I wanted to make sure my Spawn knew how much I would appreciate one of these tubs in my future. (The person who invented these is a genius and deserves a statue and a warm sudsy soak in his/her honor.)

“Hey, <Spawn>, come look at this commercial.”

“Yeah. And?”

“I want one of those in my wing when I move in with you in my old age.”

“You know where they have those? In nursing homes.”

“Not in the nursing homes I’ll be able to afford.”

“Well, you have a point. They do require indoor plumbing.”

“Thanks. I took care of your first eighteen years. You should take care of my last eighteen.”

“Eighteen? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? You need to make sure you go quickly.”

“When do you leave for school?”

“Not soon enough, not soon enough.”

Testing Toy Story / Pixar or Pickax to the Heart?

The Plan:

I've been told too many times that Toy Story is a must-see, so I guess I must see it. I've also heard that it's about Andy going to college. And leaving his mother and giving his toys to a little girl. I don't have high hopes that I'll get through it without a tear or two, but we shall see. I'll report back....

The Result: 

Yes, yet another tearjerker cartoon from Disney/Pixar. Nothing for the kids to cry about, though. Just the adults. Specifically, the mothers. And God bless any post-single mothers watching this movie.

Why do they keep doing this? Why must all their movies be so sad? Remember Lion King? The father dies a brutal stampede death! I will never forget comforting my 4-year-old Spawn during that scene. (He cried and cried."My eyes are leaking, my eyes are leaking!" It was horrible. His crying (not the father's brutal death - I had only been divorced from his father for a year or so at that point and often dreamed of his violent death) made me cry. And that made him cry more. Did I say it was horrible?

Toy Story 3 was about change and separations and endings. I don't understand how that's entertaining for children, but I'm sure it was necessary for the Bonnie empire to come in what will so obviously be Toy Story 4, 5, and 6.

Plus, there was a whole middle part that was fun for the kiddies, I suppose. But the beginning and the end and the entire plotline. Every time Andy was on-screen, I cried. In fact, just his room made me cry. When the mom said, "Oh Andy" looking at his empty room, I cried. But let me say here that no non-cartoon 17-year-old boy would tell his mother, "I'll always be with you." That did NOT make me cry. That just made me want to write the writers.

I cried the hardest after leaving the theater. It was like I had just relived the worst day of PSM, with all the symptoms, including crying at red lights. About two hours after the movie, while running some errands, the Universe blessed me with a flat tire, which ended my PSM funk pretty abruptly. I'm actually grateful for that annoyance.

Would I recommend Toy Story 3 to other PSMers? Nope. I just relived the most emotional time of my life and will now require some recovery time. And, it's a cartoon for God's sake. Andy didn't even have to grow up. What was the point? To be realistic? He's a C-A-R-T-O-O-N. 

What I'll remember most about Toy Story? Laughing at the army men parachuting out the window because they're "the first to go when the trash bags come out". And Big Baby. Dear God, how do you people with girls sleep with those things in the house?

What's this PSMer's final verdict: Pickax. Definitely Pickax. On a scale of 1-10, a Pickax 11.