<p>This thread is very similar to the "reading the decision letter" thread, also in the parents forum. While the opinions as to how to handle the letter, if it comes before the applicant gets home, or the email if the parent knows the password, are varied, the stories are great. Rather than repeat my stories here, I'd be interested to hear what you think of the stories on that post.</p>
<p>As Ellemenope notes, it's a cycle of cycles, one thing to another.</p>
<p>The two points that stand out in high emotional relief for me were when D was visiting Smith for Open Campus, doing an overnight to decide between Smith and Wellesley. We were sitting in the audience of a panel discussion and the student talking reminded me so much of the D and her hopes & aspirations...I turned to her with my throat tightening and said, "You're going to go here, aren't you?" A tear went down her cheek and she couldn't talk...just nodded...and then finally squeaked out a very quiet "Yes." She'd found Home.</p>
<p>The other a few days later when I wrote the deposit check and put it in the envelope. We drove to the Post Office and D took it in to drop in the slot.</p>
<p>Sorry... an '08 reliving recent past re-made suddenly vivid.</p>
<p>Wth the relief that she would not be among the near suicidal. I am totally shaken by how college decisions are effection the kids. My oldest was oblivious to all of this. Number 2 got school of choice. 2 more to go.</p>
<p>Because he applied to matches and safeties, there were no surprises concerning acceptances. However there were some pleasant merit aid surprises.</p>
<p>Well, this is still an '08 story, but it was such a joyful day, and happens to have occurred exactly one year ago today (the second Friday in December). D had found out the day before that she could call Stanford first thing in the morning and find out her EA decision. She first tried calling at 8:25 am, right after her first class. Busy, busy, busy! By the time she got to her second period class (Calculus), all her friends knew what she was trying to do. Even the teacher got involved. Shortly after class started, the teacher told her she could go outside and try calling. When she heard the words, "Congratulations, you have been admitted to Stanford," she said she ran back in the room and yelled, "I got in!" Everyone clapped (she went to a large public high school in SoCal, and only a couple of other students in the school had even applied early anywhere). She called me at home right after class and told me in the most excited voice that she had been accepted. What a wonderful moment it was! And now, here it is, the day she is coming home for her Christmas vacation, very happy at Stanford, exactly one year later.</p>
<p>Four years ago, S applied to UCLA and tried to log on to the server to find out about the decision. That was the first year (I think) UCLA used electronic notification. With 40,000 applicants simultaneously logging on, it was slow. Fortunately, I had a T1 line at work and printed out his acceptance before the server crashed! I was ecstatic. I ran around my office building (only 50 employees) letting everyone know that he was headed west. I e-mailed his guidance counselor and headmaster to let them know. When I got home, I showed him the printout, but with the server down, he was in disbelief and thought it was a computer glitch. So, he waited until the snail mail letter arrived before celebrating. He'll be graduating this spring--in four years! (For UC folks, that's an accomplishment in itself.)</p>
<p>Oh, and we will be doing it again this year with our D.</p>
<p>OK, as one of the earliest 09s I will tell my story. At DD's school, there is one Ivy League attendee every 4-5 years, if that, last year the val was admitted to Harvard EA, but didn't attend. There are only a handful of EA/ED.</p>
<p>I'm sitting at work, checking for news about every 5 minutes (no, I wasn't very productive, but I basically work on the computer, telephone, and microscope, so its not as slacker as it sounds;)), decisions were to be posted at 2pmCT, at 2:45 I began to despair, either she couldn't get on or it was bad news - then she called "Mom, I've had one of the worst days of my life" I began the soothing good Mom routine, "... and your day is going to get really bad too, because you have to start paying $40K to send me to Dartmouth!". I began screaming, and the guy in the office next door came to check on me!</p>
<p>Daughter was dancing around the guidance office with the 2 GCs, but the college counselor was at the dentist, so the three of them have a pact to surprise her. DD must be sensitive, despite the school not having had anyone apply to Dartmouth in 10+ years, a young man in her class also applied, and we don't know his fate.</p>
<p>DD really did have one of "those" days, a sort of "Meet the Parents" day where everything just went wrong at the same time, she said she decided to check the decisions before coming home bcause she realized it couldn't be any worse, even if she didn't get in. I won't bore with the details, but it was one of those days she'll laugh about in a few months. She is now walking on air.</p>
<p>It was three years ago this month -- the first year that Yale posted early decision results online. My daughter got a breathless call from a classmate (who'd just learned she'd been accepted) saying that the results were up on Friday afternoon, even though the college had said they'd be posted Saturday morning.</p>
<p>She tried logging in on AOL at the family PC, only to find the mirror page didn't have results up yet. So I let her get on my Mac laptop. She ordered my husband and me out of the room, because she couldn't bear us looking over her shoulder. From the doorway, we could hear the faint strains of "Bulldog, Bulldog, Bow-Wow-Wow" coming out of the little computer speakers...and that's when we knew she was accepted. We rushed in just as she levitated about four feet up from the chair. Group hug.</p>
<p>p.s. She is now a Yale junior and loves it as much as she thought she would.</p>
<p>Wasn't a big deal here (the bigger issue was choosing.) She knew no one else who was even applying to go east, and she was already at Evergreen, and we needed to do another round of visits before making decisions (which we were confident was the case.) The big deal was when the president of the college where she eventually went called (she wasn't home, so the pres. worked on selling me), and another school had four recent graduates e-mail and call her, and the department chair, too - they put on the full-court press.</p>
<p>I think she was happy to feel wanted, but it was only at the campus visit that the big smiles came out.</p>
<p>Today is the one year anniversary (perhaps less a day) that my son received his early action letter and package from Stanford. And today, he has come home from Stanford, having survived his first college finals! What a nice coincidence. </p>
<p>I kind of knew the day the envelope was likely to come, as--thanks to CC--we were getting an insider's report on when decisions were going to be mailed, and also a parent here provided a link to the Stanford Report announcing the early action numbers--so I was guessing, correctly, that the announcement was made the same day the letters were mailed and I figured the mail would arrive the next day. </p>
<p>Ironically, our mail, which usually comes before noon, didn't come until 4 p.m. that day. I was pacing like a caged tiger by the front door and son was happily watching TV in the family room (I hadn't mentioned my suspicions in case I was wrong). I swooped down on the mailbox the minute the mailman left. Sure enough, there was a very large envelope from Stanford with a big fat red "Congratulations!" spread across the front above my son's name. I whooped, but then calmly went into the family room and proceeded wordlessly to
hand out son's mail to him (he hadn't heard me thanks to TV)--a form of some sort, a Sports Illustrated---and finally the aforementioned large white envelope.</p>
<p>True to my son's kind of sweet naivete, he actually furrowed his brow in confusion when he saw it, not quite understanding its significance for a moment--before breaking out into the biggest grin I think I have ever seen on his face! </p>
<p>I have to say that I was floating on clouds for the next few days. I was barely coherent at work and finally had to confess to a client that I was really kind of having a hard time focusing on work--fortunately, my client was a long-time acquaintance and immensely supportive of the good news.
Fond memories--I'd almost forgotten!</p>
<p>Cangel, I have no idea how I missed this. Congratulations.If you can program that sort of thing I will dream tonight of our D's meeting at Dartmouth. Fantastic. Absolutely, fantastic. I am really happy for you. And my daughter's classmate got into NYU. Good news.</p>