Parenting is not for the faint of heart. I mean, if you’ve survived the infant & toddler years, I don’t have to tell you this. But I can’t say that the teen years are much easier. With each year comes a new dynamic, a new struggle, and a new way of trudging through.
Enter the “moving your firstborn to college” period.
You are never adequately prepared for the range of emotions you’ll feel. One minute, the teen is giving you attitude & you can’t WAIT for them to get to college. The next minute, they do something so sweet that you just can’t imagine how you’ll ever survive without them under your roof.
The summer prior to them heading off is full of big ideas, memory-making thoughts, and maybe even a big trip. You’re wanting to make the most of these remaining precious days, right? Well, sometimes that happens, and sometimes it doesn’t. Our summer was a little weird, and things didn’t go as planned, but we still made the most of it. We were able to take a big trip, and as much as the oldest teen protested because “Mom, we can make memories at home…”, he thoroughly enjoyed himself. In fact, we all enjoyed ourselves!
Getting these kids in the mindset to pack for college is a whole ‘nuther story. I have a son. I have a son who isn’t too interested in putting away laundry, or knowing where most things are… he just sort of takes each day as it comes & doesn’t stress over things. That’s fine, he’s always been that way. Why I thought he’d snap into “total organization & planning mode” is beyond me.
Packing for college isn’t like packing for a weekend trip. It’s packing up anything & everything you’ll need on a daily basis for weeks/months at a time. It took my son up until 2 days prior to us leaving to finally realize this! Then I handed him a list of things I thought he should pack. Y’know, the one I’d been stressing over for weeks? In true son fashion, he didn’t stress about it. We had the packing area on the extra bedroom bed so it was easier to see everything & not have the distractions of other things in his room (aka: shiny objects).
First started the laundry. We washed ALLLLL the things. I swear what felt like 37 loads later, everything was clean, folded, & in stacks on his bed.
We stacked shirts, socks, pants, shorts, underwear, shoes. We went and bought more socks & underwear to alleviate having to do laundry every single week. (not that he would’ve anyway, but it put my mind at ease a little!) He did admit it was easier to see things this way. Score one for mom!
All of his shoes fit into a duffle bag. All of his folded clothes fit into his dad’s huge military duffle bag. All of his clothes on hangers were covered with a trash bag, and laid neatly over the huge duffle bag. Now came the other “essentials”… FOOD (because, boys), toiletries, more FOOD, Command adhesive hooks, power strips, extension cords, fans (because his dorm doesn’t have air-conditioning), a rug, a microwave, a 3-drawer plastic storage container, school supplies, laundry hamper… you get the gist. ALL OF THE STUFF.
We made our dining room “College Central”, and once you see all the STUFF (and it takes over the entire room) you think, “how in the world is this all ever going to fit?!”
And the lists. OMG, the lists. To-do lists. To-pack lists. To-buy lists. To-look-for lists. To-not-lose-your-mind lists… oh wait, I think I lost that one. ;) Notebook paper lists. Post-it Note lists. Scribbled on envelopes lists. Lists everywhere. You check things off of those lists & feel like you’ve really accomplished something! Until you realize you purchased the wrong size/shape/color/whatever. Because, MOM! I can’t take THAT… #whatevs
The days start ticking down, and you start realizing all of the “lasts”… last night in his bed for a while, last dinner together as a family, last breakfast, last (fill in the blank). Then the emotions come. Sometimes in waves, sometimes all at once, sometimes all day. I think it depends on the amount of sleep you get the night before… which, you aren’t getting a lot of sleep because of the millions of things that are running through your mom brain as you prepare to launch your baby out of the nest.
In preparation of leaving, my kids got gifts for each other. My youngest picked out a coffee mug and a stuffed animal for my oldest. My oldest picked out an outfit donning his college’s name for my youngest. When they exchanged these gifts, the reactions were unexpected. There were tears. Lots of tears. And I don't know about you, but when I see someone else crying, I start to cry — it was a complete and total cry-a-rama. My youngest, between sobs, said to my oldest, “You know all those times I said ‘I hate you’… you know I didn’t mean it, right?”, to which my oldest responded with, “I know buddy, I know.” — and with that, my heart crumbled. For as much as these two act like they don’t like each other, they truly love and care for each other.
Move-in day came, and my oldest was up and going, but dragging his feet at the same time. He got up to see his younger brother off to high school, and the goodbye was strained. They each wanted to be strong for each other. The goodbyes to the animals were long & sweet. We took pictures by the fully-packed Suburban. Then we each sat in the car for a minute. The only things going through my mind were 1) don’t cry…don’t cry…don’t cry; 2) How in the world is he old enough to be going to college?; 3) don’t cry… don’t cry… don’t cry. So I said “Let’s DO this!”, and threw the family truckster in reverse. He had the window down & kept looking out. I could see in the reflection of the side mirror, there were tears welling up. This was his goodbye to the neighborhood for a while. So, I just turned up the radio & let him have these last moments.
On the way to his college, we talked… a lot. It’s like the last 18 years I’ve had life lessons to teach him, and all of the sudden, I’m trying to cram in the ones I haven’t taught him yet! I’m certain he wished he would’ve had his earbuds handy because I was blabbering on non-stop. So yeah, I was filling the silence with yammering on & on about campus safety, drinking, “don’t be a bone head”, “make good choices”, “don’t do stupid things like I did”, blah blah blah. He probably wanted to gouge his eardrums out with whatever blunt object was nearest to him, but he was kind and listened, and was respectful to his yammering on & on momma.
We got to campus, and the nerves kicked in… for both of us. This was the city I grew up in and could navigate it like the back of my hand… and I made two wrong turns. What the heck?! We circled his dorm twice trying to find the check-in. Finally, we found the correct place & he jumped out to go get checked in. He looked back at me with a little bit of uncertainty, to which I nodded my head saying “you’re fine”, and off he went. As he checked in, I headed to the loading dock to have the Suburban unloaded.
I’m just going to say, things have certainly changed over the years. When I moved into this college a thousand years ago, there was no one to help you unload your car — that was all on your own. But now, they have entire crews that are happy & smiling & full of energy that meet you at your car and schlep your stuff up to your student’s room lickety-split! I mean, our vehicle was unloaded in less than 10 minutes! After that, I parked it, and met my kiddo outside of his dorm — because it’s an all-boys dorm, he has to escort me in. Of course, he’d been in the dorm all of 10 minutes and had no idea which door to go out to meet me, but we finally found each other.
This year’s incoming freshman class was the largest this university has ever had. Hooray!! Except, he didn’t exactly end up in the dorm that he & his roommate wanted. In fact, the dorm he ended up in wasn’t even on his list. And after seeing his room, I’m guessing at one time, this was a single room that now has two people to share it. Fantastic.
My son is 6’2”, and has a wingspan of who knows what… but he can put both of his arms out & almost touch both sides of his room. I’m curious what the dimensions of a prison cell are, because I’m pretty sure this room could double as one. If my son & his BFF are still friends at the end of this year, it’ll be a miracle living in close quarters like this!
You should’ve seen the two of us wrestle the mattress on his loft while trying to put on a mattress encasement. I didn’t need to go to the gym, I think I sweated off at least 10 pounds that day! (hey, a girl can dream, right?) We played “Tetris: College Dorm Room Edition” for nearly three hours trying to get his room arranged to accommodate everything we brought + the desks + futon + dressers + everything else. Did I mention that his room doesn’t have air-conditioning? And there were 7 of us in that teeeeeeny-tiny room. Yeah, that was fun.
It was a long and hot day. After we got his room set up, we had to go and get some gear for one of his classes. While we were out, we grabbed a bite to eat for dinner. My son was somber at dinner, and his appetite was almost non-existent…which is very unusual because, well, boys eat all. the. time. We had some good talks, and decided it was time to get him back to his dorm before a mandatory meeting.
The drive back to his dorm was pretty quiet. We were both trying to avoid what was coming, but also trying to keep the conversation light. I found a parking spot as close to his dorm as I could, and then we just sat there for a minute. I looked at him & just lost it. This was the goodbye I had been dreading all day. All year, actually. I know it’s crazy because I know I’ll see him soon, but it’s still a big goodbye. I told him how incredibly proud his dad & I are of him, how I know he’ll excel, and what a wonderful human being he is. We shared tears and “I love you’s”… and more tears. I love that my kid isn’t afraid to show his emotions. I love that he loves his momma. I told him to “go & be great”. And I know he will.
He got out of the Suburban and walked to his dorm down the street. He’d look back & I’d wave. Most of him disappeared behind a car, but I could still see his head… and it was the same toddler head I had seen many times. Then the rest of him appeared… still resembling that same toddler. And I cried. My BABY was on his own. I know he’s not a baby. I know he’s not a toddler. But for that quick glimpse, that is what I saw. But what I also saw was a fine young man who is off to college to do amazing things.
Granted, my son is only a little over an hour away from home. I know he’ll be back, but at the same time, each time he’ll come back, it’ll be different. He'll be different. He will grow as an individual. The dynamic will never be the same as it was. And that’s fine — it’s how we evolve. But it’s still change.
From what I’ve learned during this season is that this is a process. It’s almost a grieving process to an extent. Someone who was always here, now isn’t. Someone you’ve known every daily detail about, will now become somewhat of a stranger. It’s an odd feeling. Side note: I’m just going to say… for any parent who has lost a child, I cannot even begin to imagine how you cope on a daily basis. I just can’t. And how you do, well, just know that you all are heroes to me. Plain and simple.
I would also liken this experience to childbirth — and hang with me for a minute here. Y’know how when you’re pregnant, people will tell you stories of how things went for them, or what to expect, and you listen & think “yep, I’ve totally got this!”. Well, dropping your kids off isn’t really much different. Everyone has a different experience. Everyone will tell you what worked for them, and how their kids reacted. But you don’t actually “get it” until you go through it yourself. I have much more feeling & empathy for anyone who has gone through this & I didn’t acknowledge (and I’m so sorry!), or anyone who is currently going through this & is hurting, or anyone that will go through next year at this time & has no idea what’s about to hit them.
Yes, I’m incredibly happy for my child — what parent wouldn’t be? Yes, I know he’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing — it’s a right of passage! Yes, I know I’ve raised a great kid. But I’m also a little sad, okay? I’m sad that I won’t see his face each morning at breakfast & each night at dinner. I’m sad that I won’t know what’s happening each day in his life. I’ve known all of these things for the past 18 years, and now, BOOM!, I won’t. So please, let me be sad for a hot minute, okay?
I know that once everyone gets into their respective grooves, this will all be a distant memory, but for right now, our worlds are a little wonky. We’re all learning something new. It’s a transition, if you will.
I’ve learned is that there is a whole giant community of other parents who have done this ahead of me, who have given some excellent advice. My sister, for example, said “Allow yourself to be sad & have your feelings. After about 3 weeks, it’s like a switch will flip, and you’ll realize that everything is and will be just fine.” Another sweet friend said, “I would sit at home and cry because I missed my daughter so much. After a while, I got used to her not being there, and then I started to enjoy my own time. After a while, everything becomes fine again.” Another friend said, “It’s like a trauma… not necessarily a bad trauma, but a trauma nonetheless.” But the majority of people all say “Let yourself have your feelings. You have to process them to move forward.” And you know what? They’re ALL absolutely right! It’s perfectly OKAY to have these feelings. And it’s perfectly okay to NOT have these feelings, too… but that’s just not how I’m wired, so I’m having ALL THE FEELINGS.
I’m still within the first couple of weeks of dropping my kid off. The goodbye was brutal on this momma’s heart. But thanks to modern technology, I can text, FaceTime, and Snapchat my kid… and the beauty of it is, he reciprocates just as often. He has texted and called with news of good things, and is genuinely excited! And that, well, that makes this momma’s heart smile.
To all of my fellow parents who are also in this season, I hear you... I see you... I AM you. We're all in this crazy boat together! So let's link arms and support each other through this, okay? We've GOT this, and so do our kids!
