I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s been raised by me, and I’m the queen.

This business of applying for colleges and scholarship programs has been slowly driving me mad. You see, there are deadlines to follow. Lots of them. Deadlines for registering for tests, deadlines for applications for financial aid, deadlines for submitting letters of reference… more deadlines than I’ve ever encountered in my life.

The nefarious thing about these deadlines is that my son seems only vaguely aware of them (or not – in some cases he’s completely clueless). I want to shake him. I want to shout at him. I want to yell, “WAKE UP!” but I know that none of these strategies will prove helpful in any way.

Instead, I’ve taken it upon myself to become an internet sleuth on a mission. I will hunt down and find all those pieces and parts, and I will hover over this giant man-child like a grumpy drill sergeant until he completes them all.

I understand that this is “enabling” behavior, but if it means “enabling” him to attend college without breaking the bank or going into massive debt for the next several decades, I’m okay with it.

I see myself as something of a coach in this process. A big, bossy coach, with an annoying whistle ready to blow in his ear at any moment.

You want to play video games? TWEET

You want to watch the baseball game? TWEET

You want to “rest?” TWEET

Sorry kid, you’re not done yet.

Yes, it’s irritating to both of us, but I’m not willing to let this one go. Sometimes, though, I wish he weren’t quite so much like me.