Am I Just Freakishly Old or What?

I went to a meeting last night that was designed to help my kids get into college.

It started out with each of us picking a word that expresses what it’s like to think about the college application process.

My word was… different.

It’s soooo different from when I chose a college.

I did my best in my schoolwork. No IB. No AP. There wasn’t such a thing.
I visited three schools, applied to four and picked one.
Done deal.

Now?

Criminy.
There are coaches and tutors to get you ready.
It helps to know what career you are going into.
If you apply to a school far away, you look more attractive to them.
If you play the oboe, you’re golden.
If your last name is Trump, you are really golden.
It helps to apply for early decision.
Do the optional essay.
Show long-term commitment in activities.
Take advantage of the Super Score. (Wha?!?)
Have a capstone event.
Make sure they know your name and who you are.
Oh, and then there is grade and rigor.
To name a few.

Whew.

Thank goodness we have someone to guide us through.

In my mind, if you are a good kid who does reasonably well in school, you should be able to go to a good fitting college.

But it doesn’t work that way.

And I am trying to get out of my own way.

If I do things the way I think they should be, there’s a good chance my kids are not going to the school of their choice.

But if I stop being so freakishly old, and look at the way things are instead of the way I think they should be, my kids may have a chance.

If I stop trying so hard to be right, I might get what I want.

So, I will pick my son up from track practice Monday through Friday for the next four months.
And I will find out what Naviance is. (A computer program for tracking their college-worthy activities?)

Thank goodness Bryton is on track for Eagle Scout. Dodged a bullet there.

And then I will buy sensible shoes and lumbar support, because I am feeling freakishly old.
And that’s not how it’s supposed to be.
But that’s how it is.

If you listen quietly, you can almost hear the creaking of the cogs in my head as change takes place.