As I write, I’m listening to one of my favorite David Gray songs on my little purple iPod, and the title seems to be the perfect headline for today’s post about taking Ian to college last Thursday with Chris.

Yes,  I cried, but only at the very end of the day….and only when I looked at Chris.  We had both hugged Ian in his dorm room, and turned to go out the door..and then I looked at my husband’s face.  All our years of courtship, marriage, infertility treatments, pregnancy, childbirth and childrearing are written on his visage, as they are on mine.  Locking eyes with Chris, I began to sob.  

It was a selfish cry on my part.  Because we will no longer have Ian with us in the house….but also a happy cry…because he will be with other kids his age, living and breathing art around the clock.  His dorm suite is fantastic.  His RA is friendly - and from our hometown!  His roommates are great.  Without comparing notes ahead of time, because they are boys, they all still managed to bring compatible items.

Maryland Institute College of Art  is amazing.  It was all overwhelming, in the best possible way.  There was a wonderful orientation for the parents.  The provost, in particular, impressed us with his speech.  He said ‘Your son or daughter is used to being the art kid -  the art star – at his or her high school.   At MICA, your child will be one of many art stars.  Don’t worry, your son or daughter would not have been admitted if he or she did not measure up to our standards.  They are ALL talented.”  He added, “That said, each will be doing much experimental work here.  In December, when you are reviewing their work, please suppress the impulse to say…”what the HECK!?” 

Repeatedly, we were reminded that 5:30 was the appointed time to “say goodbye and attend the parent reception before leaving campus.” 

And so we drove back home, just the two of us, and settled into a routine with Hugh and Malcolm.  We all miss Ian, but as my grandmother said years ago when her first grader asked “Mama, do you miss me when I’m at school?”… “Yes, but it’s a NICE miss.”

The natural order of things has occurred.  We need merely to adapt.

Ian checks the old-fashioned mail every day, looking for his college roommate assignment.

Word is, the envelopes were mailed out of Baltimore yesterday, so everyone in the Mid-Atlantic states should have his or her assignment today.

Ian has not had a roommate since 1998, when Malcolm learned how to climb out of his crib.  At that point we got rid of the crib, turned the nursery into a single bedroom for Ian, and sent Malcolm to the bunk-bedroom with Hugh.  As the eldest child, Ian has enjoyed having his own room for all these years.  He’s written on the ceiling, put whatever he wanted on the walls, and decorated the floor with mountains of clothes.  Having a roommate will be quite a switch.

MICA offers a fabulous new glass dorm, with outdoor patios on the upper floors and stylish cafes.  Here, most of the rooms are singles – and each single has its own private art studio attached.  But this dorm is for seniors – and you get in by lottery.  Freshmen at MICA all live in a brick-dormed setting called the Commons, with one entry point and a center grassy yard.  It’s safe, secure, and communal.

Ian’s wait for the roommate news makes me remember my own pre-college summer.  My mom gave me great advice, which was “Go for the suite.  Each has four rooms with a bathroom in the middle, and six girls.  You’re bound to really hit it off with at least one of your roommates.” 

Liking the odds, I marked my preference for a suite.  I’ll always remember receiving a phone call from one of my suitemates, Sally, who told me she was calling on her father’s WATS line from Lancaster, PA.  I didn’t know what a WATS line was but didn’t want to admit that.  A few times I said “This is getting expensive so we should hang up” and she said “No, it’s a WATS line.”  I ended up agreeing to bring my stereo, which was a basically a plastic close-n-play, because Sally’s stereo is “like a piece of furniture.”  Funny how I remember her exact words.

Because I was always extremely independent, I took the train from Jefferson City MO to Columbus OH by myself, then a taxi to Denison, arriving in Beaver Hall at dawn on Labor Day.  The Jerry Lewis Telethon was my entertainment until the hour was decent enough to knock at my suite door and meet the roommates. 

The girls in my suite were fine.  I went on Fall Break to Chicago with one and Spring Break to New York City with another, but they did not become my closest friends.  I really loved the girls who lived in the suite exactly one floor below, and I was constantly visiting them.  To this day, two of them, Lindsay and Missy, are among my closest friends.

So my mom was right, the odds were way better in a suite.  And the kicker?  My suite in Beaver Hall was exactly the same one my mom lived in when she arrived at Denison in 1948, as a transfer student from Colorado Women’s College. 

Ian’s dorm life will be radically different.  No dorm-mothers.  No unlocked campus doors during the day, or ever.  No long lines to use the shared telephones in the hallways.  Probably not even any blaring stereos, close-and-play or “piece of furniture” or otherwise.

But the hopes and anxieties about roommate compatability remain unchanged.  Let’s hope today’s mail brings good news.

Now that our firstborn’s Gap Year is drawing to a close, the jury is in.

It was a great decision.

Instead of going straight to college, Ian accepted an offer from Maryland Institute College of Art  (MICA) last May, then deferred for a year.  As many MOB readers will recall, he spent the summer lifeguarding before going off to Europe in the fall for a few months of travel.  Considering this was a kid who had never even gone to summer camp, he did amazingly well on his own. 

Ian rejoined us just before Christmas, and has spent the last few months working on paintings in his basement studio, lifeguarding at indoor pools, visiting friends in college and at prep schools, perfecting his baking (“I figure I should have a skill to fall back on if the art thing doesn’t work out”), chauffering his younger brothers around, going to museums and galleries, and helping us in the house and garden.

This spring, Chris and I did not have to touch the mulch pile when the dump truck delivered it – our personal hired man took care of it while we were busy doing other stuff.   He took out the storm windows and put in the screens.  He empties the dishwasher every day.  Unfortunately, he has backslid on making his bed every morning, which he used to do while in school.   He goes to the gym with us, or bums a ride into the city when we’re heading in. 

It’s been such a pleasure to hang out with this kid, without the usual parental overlays of “Did you study for that test?” and “Are you all caught up in that class?”   Apart from monitoring his scholarship applications (he had to re-apply), there’s been blessedly little hectoring on our part.

Ian has been reading classics that he’s never had the time to enjoy, from the Great Gatsby to The Mysterious Island, from The Importance of Being Ernest to Lives of the Artists.  He’s recently been poring over an anatomy book that I found for a dollar at a library sale.  Although it’s from the late 1800s, the human body has not changed much since it was first published and he’s finding it fascinating.

From obscurities like A Knife in the Water to popular recent releases like The Illusionist, Ian’s also been watching a ton of movies.  He tracks the Netflix queue, and rents whatever strikes his fancy at the library. 

There’s plenty of junk TV too, and month upon month of sleeping until noon.  But the beauty of it is, we don’t get worked up about this, or go into nag mode.  Ian is basically on Student Sabattical.  

With no deadlines or assignments or anywhere to be – until lifeguarding duty begins in the late afternoon – he’s not operating under the normal rules governing daily life.  He will be, for the rest of his life, so we’re fine with letting him sleep or zone out in front of Cash Cab.

The advantages of the Gap Year far outweigh any downsides, in our experience.  More than a few of Ian’s contemporaries went off to freshman year of college, on cue, and had a negative experience.  Either they dropped out or they transferred or they’re deeply unhappy. 

While the Gap Year is no innoculation against those outcomes, we can’t help but feel that the extra 365 days of maturing and pondering and yes, boredom, will have the positive effect of making Ian that much more college-ready.

In the meantime, there are documents to sign, seal, and mail off to MICA today.

For teenagers, the solution was a change of location.  We headed south to Baltimore, to another city full of snow and ice!  But at least it was someone else’s snow and ice. 

Not since August have we packed everyone into the car with a cooler of drinks and a box of doughnuts.  Breaking the everyday routine was just what the doctor ordered for our family’s Cabin Fever epidemic.

Chris, Hugh and Malcolm finally got to see MICA, the art school where Ian was accepted last spring. 

From MICA, it was a short hop to funky Fells Point for lunch.  We learned that Malcolm doesn’t like Eggs Benedict, which was a huge surprise, because he’s always been our only adventuresome eater.  But at least the root beer was frosty and bottled.

Although two out of three boys wanted to go to the Aquarium, the lines were Disney-esque, as were the ticket prices.  Bag that.  The boys went into the ESPN shop, looked around, and were content to leave empty-handed.  Another victory!  Have we really graduated from the days when every gift shop led to begging for even the most trivial trinket?  Praise Allah!

Next stop:  the The Walters Art Museum, an amazing collection.  Even more amazing, it’s free.  Ian appreciated it greatly – as we knew he would.

Driving around the hilly heart of the town, Chris said “This reminds me of San Francisco.”  Then we would see turreted row houses and say “Brooklyn.”  Or “The scale is just like Kansas City.”  Or “Look at these brick sidewalks, it’s so much like Richmond.”  Everybody loved Baltimore.

But the icing on the cake was standing on the ice outside Cake Mecca, Charm City Cakes – setting for Ace of Cakes.

 Mission accomplished.  We explored another city, we found sweet free parking spots despite the walls of snow and ice, and we broke our routine.

What do you do/where do you go when you need to get the heck out of Dodge? 

In our world, “gap” is now linked with the word “year,” and it means Ian is taking time off between high school graduation and freshman year of college.

We’re completely on board with this concept.  What a great idea, to take a bit of time before leaping from the frying pan into the fire.  To have some adventures, grow up a bit, and recover from school fatigue.  When in life do you have more time, more energy, and more opportunity to take this kind of break?  Gap/bridge years, long a popular concept in Europe, are now a hot trend in America as well.

Ian has deferred admission to the Maryland Institute College of Art, where he’ll join the freshman class in the fall of 2010.

Everyone asks:  “So what’s he doing with his gap year?”  That’s a great question.  Answers are still being worked out.  Fall:  study art in Europe.  He’s pretty fluent in Spanish, so Spain would be a great choice.  Maybe Italy, full of bikes and pizza.  We hope he’ll be back here for Thanksgiving, or at least Christmas.  Spring:  paying job or internship, and  some volunteer work.

More immediate deadlines loom.  Getting tux and transport ready for the prom.  Procuring chips, cake and candy bars for a grad party (the menu Ian actually proposed last night.)  Arranging for a new passport, since the one from 1996 shows our firstborn with fat cheeks, a train sweater, and a bowl cut.

Whatever the near-term future holds, it’s safe to say adventure and travel will play important roles. 

PS  Wednesday Spaghetti hosted by Emily and Dave went off without a hitch.  Excellent sauce too.  THANKS!

Today we’ll quickly revisit a couple of topics from the recent past.

1.  The winner of the bad restaurant names is reader Tracie, who nominated Scales and Tails in Tallahassee.  She will receive a vintage Florida tea towel, which I happen to know she will like. 

2.  The theme of Chris’s men-in-drag dance line last weekend was Barbie.  They danced to Barbie Girls, in honor of the big Barbie birthday.  Chris was Tennis Barbie.   Disturbing photos to follow.

3.  College acceptances are starting to arrive in the mail for Ian.  Nice, big envelopes with handwritten notes of welcome on in the inside.  The most recent was from MICA – Maryland College and Institute of Art, which has an amazingly great campus in Baltimore, full of kids who eat, sleep, and breathe art.  And bicycles. 

4.  Here’s how I’m tying together today’s post:  the NYT recently ran this article about a MICA graduate, Margaux Lange, who creates jewelry out of Barbie body parts.  Check out her incredible creations here - especially the breastplate of sparkly-tipped breasts.  Artists doing their thing and getting rich and famous for it?   Or at least famous?  Much more possible now, thanks to this invention of Al Gore’s.  As the parent of a future art student, I couldn’t be more grateful to the internet.