Today was the big day. My boy departed for the USA, off on his grand adventure that will apparently include 30 hours of flying (because why not take the scenic route through every airport on Earth?). Naturally, the day started with IKEA, because where else do you go when you’re anxious, procrastinating, and slightly in denial?
We sat down for meatballs, his favorite. Fun fact: Nothing says “I’ll miss you” quite like a plate of Swedish comfort food and a mom sneakily shoving extra gravy onto your plate. Afterward, we wandered around IKEA, pretending to admire things we didn’t need while secretly killing time. My ADHD brain was in overdrive. Should I grab another pack of tea lights? Oh wait, did I ever replace that broken picture frame? Maybe I should just buy a fake tree and be done with it… Spoiler: I bought nothing, except maybe a fleeting sense of calm.
By mid-afternoon, it was raining cats, dogs, and maybe a small goat or two. The drive to Schiphol felt like starring in an apocalyptic weather movie, complete with fogged-up windows and wipers working overtime. But hey, we made it on time, which is more than I can say for most of my other plans these days (cough Christmas shopping cough).
When we finally got to check-in, I witnessed a magical moment. My confident, globe-trotting son completely froze when they asked to check his visa. Just froze. For a solid ten seconds, he looked like someone trying to remember the Wi-Fi password under pressure. I laughed, not because I’m a bad mom, but because I love seeing those tiny cracks in his cool demeanor. It reminds me he’s still my kid, even when he’s about to board a plane to the other side of the world.
Once he cleared security, I realized: It’s happening. He’s really leaving. And my heart did that weird, conflicting thing—half bursting with pride, half aching at the thought of not seeing him for a while. But since we’re Gen X around here, I shoved all that mushy stuff down, grabbed a soda at KFC, and prepared to drive home through a monsoon.
Now it’s just me, the rain-soaked road, and a mental to-do list that won’t quit. Christmas is days away, and I’ve done zero shopping. My ADHD brain has turned the whole thing into a sitcom: “Episode 12: Can She Find a Gift That Doesn’t Look Like Gas Station Leftovers?” But first, I need to decompress from today. I keep telling myself I have time, but let’s be honest—if I’m still shopping on Christmas Eve, at least I’ll know I gave it the ol’ try.
For now, I’ll sit in this mixture of pride, worry, and exhaustion, knowing that my boy is out there chasing his dreams. And maybe I’ll eat another meatball in his honor.
Stay dry, stay sane,
A Proud, Slightly Frazzled Mom
