- About Us
- Local Savings
- Green Editions
- Legal Notices
- Weekly Ads
Connect with Us
I need a laugh track | Living with Gleigh
We dropped my oldest daughter off at college this weekend. I didn’t have the chance to miss her until Sunday night. After we moved her into student housing Saturday, we decided to pile in her car and show her what stores were in her surrounding area. As we were driving my husband said, "Wow! Your brakes sound really bad, you're probably driving metal to metal right now."
So we brought the car home with us and he fixed the brakes while I fielded texts from my daughter of all the stuff she forgot. Whenever I'd get another text from her, I’d find the item in her room and put it in a laundry basket.
Sunday morning, my husband and I returned her car and brought all the forgotten items (she's just lucky she's only 45 minutes away). My daughter seemed kind of lost to me (although it was probably because she had just gotten out of bed after being awake earlier, but dozed off and on until we got there; moms always over-interpret their children's psyches).
Then I decided since we were in the area, we should go to iPic theaters and see a movie. It’s the location my husband and I like to treat ourselves to on our anniversary, which is coming up at the end of the week. It’s a luxurious theater with recliners and seat-side service from a full menu of great food. I guess it kind of defeats the purpose to bring your daughter along, but iPic used to be a 21 and older theater, it isn’t anymore and we had driven up to the area twice in two days already, so it just seemed like a good thing to do, especially since my daughter seemed out of sorts to me (maybe it was my subconscious way of spending more time with her before we left her to her own devices).
Surely my husband and I could think of something else to do on our anniversary so we could take our daughter to iPic for a "move-into-student-housing" celebration. He agreed. Of course, we ate while we were there, but I pointed out that we ordered the same amount of food we ordered last year, but had one more person to eat it, so were far less porky than if we had eaten it by ourselves.
So really, she did us a favor (the mom tells herself so as to assuage the guilt she feels at sharing with our child this once husband/wife only event in our lives). We had her with us most of the day; no reason to miss her at that point.
But Sunday night, when I was sitting in my bedroom watching TV and relaxing from my emotional (you mothers understand what I mean) weekend, the silence coming from the hallway was heavy. No hysterical laughing at weird cartoons and YouTube videos filtered into my room.
My youngest was sewing in the craft room at the other end of the house, so all the lights were off outside my bedroom. I like having my bedroom door open; it makes me feel a part of their lives, even when they are in their rooms in their own worlds. My open door often entices them to come in and share with me, sometimes even fun things, not just things they need.
So today I write, do the laundry, plan dinner; all the normal stuff that keeps the house running. The house needs a major pickup and clean session. My youngest will be back at school on Thursday and life will be back to a routine. At this moment in time, I do not miss my oldest daughter.
Still, there's that empty, quiet, dark room. Maybe I need a laugh track. Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. She is listening to the laugh track running through her head. You can also read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com or on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh.”