Posted by: randommisfires | August 27, 2008

Recap

Shall I fill you in on how the first day of college went? Anyone wanna guess how many things went wrong?

Let’s start with me opening my eyes only to realize that my room was far too light to be 5:45 am. But, knowing how much R loves her early morning scripture study class, I wasn’t worried. I even closed my eyes again, relishing the soft warmth of my comforter. And immediately popped them open when my brain said, “IT’S THE FIRST DAY OF COLLEGE AND SHE IS SUPPOSED TO BE AWAKE BY NOW!!!”

Sure enough, the clock said 6:56 and school, which takes 40 minutes to get to in light traffic, started at 8am. Coincidentally, her first teacher is a little anal about the walking in late thing. In fact, he’s so anal about it, he sent everyone his class rules prior to the first day, just to get his point across. Don’t be late.

No Pressure. . .

“R! R! It’s 6:58. You need to get up RIGHT now.”

And being as R is 13, she promptly burst into tears. Because she has already ruined her perfect attendance record for the early morning class, and she has no time to get ready for college.

“R, we have to be in the car in 5 minutes. I know you’re upset, but you don’t have time for tears. Just collect everything you need and get ready in the car. Come on.”

At 7:08, R was brushing her hair when I said, “We have no more time. We have to go, now.”

And she started crying again. “I didn’t even get to fix my hair!”

And off we went, leaving the house at 7:11. AM. Rush Hour. In Southern CA.  And while I was getting more and more verklempt, R was getting calmer and calmer.  The third time we came to a dead stop on the freeway, I looked over at her.  What did I see?  R straightening her hair with her flat iron.  Her electric flat iron.  Being a smart girl, she realized quickly that we have and adapter that converts the cigarette lighter into a standard outlet.  And this ritual was putting her back in control of her frustration.  Which saves me LOADS of money in therapy.

And in spite of the heavy traffic, the two cars on the side of the road and the many slow semis, I was able to break at least 15 traffic laws and make excellent time towards our exit.  I breathed a sigh of relief as we left gridlock behind and zoomed onto school.

Which is why is didn’t occur to me that I had exited one exit too soon.  When I came to a T-junction I had never seen before, I knew we were in hot water.  Because I am an idiot at 7:30 am.  Honestly, the brain cells are totally and completely asleep, leaving my body to fend for itself.  And we all know what trouble I have  taking care of me when the brain cells are awake.  I’m just saying.

By a miracle, VZ Navigator- which I am once again singing praises for- got us through my accidental detour and onto campus in time for her to not get chewed out by her first professor in her first class on her first momentous day.  I honestly have no idea how.  It defies logic.  And physics.  Maybe we time traveled just briefly.  Or maybe my detour is actually a shortcut.  Or maybe my clock is wrong.  Or maybe. . .

All I know is that I held my breath until around noon, when it was finally obvious that this really is going to be OK.  Because my daughter is smart enough to figure out how to use her flat iron in the car.  And anyone with that kind of quick thinking will totally ace college.

Totally relaxed after a very big day.

Totally relaxed after a very big day.

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Responses

  1. At thirteen, I would have had a massive emotional meltdown and refused to go…if I didn’t have time to look perfect. Not to mention the chance of walking in late and thinking the entire class would stare at me in disbelief and pity. Then, after I calmed down, I would have blamed my mom for the whole thing and sulked for days.

    She is no regular thirteen year old. However, she does owe you a picture on campus for the time travel traffic miracle thing you pulled off.

  2. Maybe tomorrow, I can get a photo of her on campus.

  3. Can I refuse to go… Nawwww!!!!!!

    Rebi Is soooooo Pretty!

  4. aww thanks Adara.

    Who says i don’t blame her? haha

  5. You mean Jenne… as in my mom…


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