It’s November and he’s only called to ask for money once. And that was recently. And he needed money to do laundry (!) and his debit card wasn’t working.
He’s been home twice. Once, because there was a hurricane/tropical storm threat that evacuated the dorms for a long weekend. The second time was Fall Break. He arrived in two-day-old clothes and toting his entire wardrobe — dirty. He did all his own laundry, of course, but it’s much cheaper to do it at Mom and Dad’s house.
To my delight, he calls pretty often. We don’t call him that often. Sometimes, we chat via IM late at night when we discover we’re both on. We IM’d our way through election night (that boy is just FULL of conspiracy theories when it comes to politics).
He got his first round of grades and he’s doing well.
We’ve been to visit him once. We’d go more often if it were closer, I think. We’d also go more often if we weren’t doing a million other things that prevent it on the weekend.
He’ll be home for Thanksgiving and I am looking forward to that.
Do you remember your first semester of college? How did you do? How often did you come home? Were you homesick or did you run off and never look back?