Click! That’s the sound of the send button on my son’s computer (and of my credit card getting a workout.) Four out of seven college applications have now been sent.
He’s been a marvel, my son, during this dreadful season – the season of the application mania. He’s been working hand in glove with his guidance counselor since last spring, making sure he is thinking about the right things when choosing the schools to which he is going to apply. He has gotten all the transcript paperwork in, hocked us over the summer to make sure we submitted our “essay” to the guidance counselor that will help her formulate her recommendation, and has been working on his own essay with his grandpa the English teacher for months.
Turns out that he really needs three or four or five essays, or “personal statements,” as they’re called on the applications. That was a bit of curveball. But he has persevered, and in mid-October, he is more than halfway through his application process, and my husband and I have done very little except be supportive when he’ll let us. I am proud of his ability to manage this very complicated application process with little input from us - we're his final proofreaders, and have helped him think through his choices, but that's about it.