Kicking the birdie out of the nest
Now that I'm over the trauma I can talk about it. In January we went apartment-hunting in Manhattan for Daughter #1. Before school started, we had a deal — she'd live in the residence halls for a year for the "experience." If she didn't like it, she could find an apartment for the next year. Since we were apartment hunting, the outcome is obvious.
One fine January day we drove to Manhattan to look at apartments. Ever the organized individual, she had a list of appointments for apartment buildings that fit her demands.
Her small-town background became evident when we attempted to find these apartment complexes. She had names and addresses. What she didn't have was directions. Apparently she thought
The first place we went was a real estate office. The young man brought out floor plans and maps and showed us what the apartments would look like — once they were built. Ever the skeptic, I figured he thought he could pull a fast one on a bunch of country bumpkins.
We looked at a few other apartments — none of which Daughter #1 (or Mother) were happy with. Maybe we were being too picky, but we found something wrong with each place — too small, too large, too hot, too cold, too far from school, too close to school.
By mid-afternoon we had seen all the places on her list and reached no conclusion. Anyone who knows Daughter #1 knows she wasn't going to be happy until she had made a decision that day. We took a break to regroup and began a list of pros and cons of each place we had seen.
When the list was completed, the apartment we hadn't seen was the most promising. We returned to the real estate office and interrogated the man with his floor plans, blueprints, and maps for the new apartment complex. Once we were satisfied this wasn't some fly-by-night scheme, Daughter #1 made her decision.
It'll be a new apartment. What does it look like? We don't know. We've seen the floor plans and she's chosen the apartment she wants. So now, we're waiting
Daughter #1 is happy with the decision. She's keeping tabs on the building progress. I've recovered from the trauma of the realization that she's actually moving away. I certainly hope there is an apartment there by August 1 — we're already making plans for her room.
— DONNA BERNHARDT
