<p>Charter member of the small-but-proud college-obsessed dads club, here! So far, the parental involvement in this process has almost entirely been my baby (so to speak…).</p>
<p>I love this thread! Thanks vlines.</p>
<p>For us neurotic parents, I would add “you second-guess the months of preparation and analyze what you could/should have done differently.”</p>
<p>I have likened the senior year college application/decision process to labor. Long and painful, but no such thing as an infinite senior year or an infinite labor. At some point they both end and you have a decision/baby.</p>
<p>Hours are spent trying to figure out what kid wants/likes/needs based on reading nonverbal cues.</p>
<p>Great post Vlines! And so true :)</p>
<p>I will say, however, that figuring out how to take care of a baby was a lot more intuitive than figuring out how to send that baby to college. I did the former without the aid of the Internet. And after I determined that the answer to most questions about child-rearing was, “Don’t worry; that’s normal,” I more or less stopped reading the books, too.</p>
<p>amen to that, absweetmarie! Nothing intuitive or “normal” about the college ap process!</p>
<p>I recall Dr. Spock saying something along the lines of, “If your baby hasn’t fallen and hit his head at least once by the time he’s two years old, you’re not doing it right” (I am paraphrasing and probably misremembering!). That’s another lesson for sending a kid to college, I think. Getting hurt and making mistakes is part of the process, and you can only protect your baby up to a point before you’re stifling him or her. (I, of course, have successfully walked that fine line for nearly 18 years; no complaints from my D about me over-mothering her … ;))</p>
<p>And to follow up on what absweetmarie just said- todays unfortunate lesson for me in similarities- </p>
<p>Your kids tears still hurt you more than they hurt them…:(</p>
<p>Both are never like you thought it would be .What would be the parallel to an unexpected C- section ?</p>
<p>fauxmaven, how about that poor girl on here that got an admission letter to florida, only to get a second letter that said “opps, mistake, you really are not admitted”. Or the Vassar kids that had the admission notifications that were false. I am sure that felt like something being torn from their gut!</p>
<p>There are pack babies and sling babies (I had one of each). There are swing babies and bouncy chair babies (unfortunately mine were neither). There are babies who will take a bottle and pacifier and babies who would rather go hungry when mom’s not home than accept anything but the genuine article (I got the latter). There are babies who can be Ferberized and babies who will cry until they puke (again, the latter). There are toddlers who will bolt and try to run away - anywhere - at the drop of a hat (had one). Having watched DS, sister tried to convince husband that they couldn’t have kids until they built a better fence. Forget running way, her son wouldn’t let go of her leg for a couple years.</p>
<p>The lesson, every kid is different and there’s nothing wrong with finding the right fit. They do better when you embrace who they are and work with it rather than against it.</p>
<p>amen saint fan…</p>
<p>here is another one-</p>
<p>Waiting, lots of waiting. Waiting for the admission letters/ scholarship letters is like waiting for that baby to be born. You know sort of when they are due, but cannot count on any exact date!</p>
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<p>I guess you did not have a boy that would put on a towel for a cape and climb to the highest area he could find with the intention of “flying”. Or an infant that would intentially hold their breath until they practically turned blue (for no apparent reason other than he could!) LOL</p>
<p>…Or a 9-month-old who was able to climb out of his crib and would be found wandering the house at 2 am!</p>
<p>. . . or a boy who would, at 18 months, go out the backdoor in his diaper, crawl under the back gate which was blocked off with giant yard waste toters and run up the street on his own while mom was using “the ladies”. Thanks goodness for neighbors who would bring him back home. This was when he wasn’t climbing on a chair to unlock the deadbolt on the front door or riding his tiny bike full bore down the hill while looking back over his shoulder at me chasing him down the street. As the neighbors said, “you certainly get your exercise.”</p>
<p>Thanks for the thread, vlines!</p>
<p>The counting down of days steals the moment of the day. I’m trying to enjoy, relish and relax for the remainder of Senior year. Que sera, sera! </p>
<p>Patience…much easier said than done.</p>
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<p>I had one of those! The same one who would STAND on his high chair tray and rock the back of it to get to the wall light switch. </p>
<p>My husband’s brother went for an unauthorized walk when he was 2. The police found him in the middle of a busy street, being guarded by their German shepherd.</p>
<p>At least nothing about college apps ever gave me heart failure! :)</p>
<p>I leave the Fiske guide lying around, hoping for a spark of interest, much the way I once left the potty seat out, hoping for the same.</p>
<p>beth’s mom - Not really losing sleep, but after our daughter left for college, sometimes when I would wake up, it would just hit me that she wasn’t in her own bed in the morning. Or I would wonder if she was asleep yet - if she was getting enough sleep. And then when she would come home, I would stand in her doorway in the morning just watching her sleep for a minute or two - she was home in her own bed, and it felt so good.</p>