Parenting is hard: Empty nest edition

August 23, 2016

It's been almost a week since we dropped off the "little one" at TCU to begin his freshman year. It was difficult taking the oldest to college a couple years ago, but this time, coming back home to an empty house? This is hard. Takes-my-breath-away hard. I'm still processing it all, but here are my thoughts at five days post drop-off.

It really helps to hear encouraging words from parents who have gone through it before me, who reassure that it really will be okay. I believe you. I just don't feel it right now, but I trust and believe you. Thank you. I never would have made it through the past 21 years without parenting mentors, and I feel like your words now are more important than ever.

The best advice I've received puts the focus more on being happy and excited for the kids than being absorbed in my own sadness. I'm working on this. But it's hard.

I'm trying to reconcile coming to the end of two decades in which I identified first and foremost as a mom. Here's what really gets me in trouble -- thinking back too far into those 20 years. Remembering how Trevor used to mispronounce a word in a really cute way as a preschooler, or looking at Nate's first-day-of-kindergarten photos. I decided quickly that I had to stop this. Because it's enough to grieve that my 18-year-old just moved 12 hours from home. I can't also grieve the parts of their lives that really ended years ago. That is too heavy, too much to bear right now. I'll look at our family photo albums another time.

When we said goodbye to Nate last week, I left words of love and encouragement and faith in a card on his dorm room desk. It took me about three days to realize I should be telling myself the very same words.

But it's hard.

Can memory foam fill an empty room?

It's been one year since Trevor graduated from high school, and I'm shocked at how quickly he's "flown the coop." He hardly comes home from college -- and yes, I know this is a good thing. In his break between the end of semester and his summer camp job, he scheduled a 10-day trekking trip in Peru. Cool. This is a good thing too.

He told me a couple days ago that he probably won't come home from camp each Saturday night like he did last summer. "But, you have to wash your clothes sometime," I objected. But apparently they also have laundry facilities in Boone, Iowa. Or maybe the clothes won't get washed. Worse things could happen.

In August, he's planning to head back to college right after his camp job ends, because of a fall internship and campus job that could use him back a little earlier. This is... you know, good and all. 

sigh.

But today, I went to the Mattress Firm and bought him a new bed. For his room here. Because I want to make sure he has a more comfortable bed to sleep on when he's home. I did this against Dennis's skepticism, who was like, "But he's hardly here." 

I know.

I don't care. I'm buying him a more comfortable bed. Maybe it's a desperation purchase. And it'll be delivered in two days, so there ya go. So if you want to stay over, I'll have a new bed for you. It'll likely be available. 

on parenting... and getting out of the way

So. One kid is now off to college. I dreaded it for a long time, and then it happened.

And it's okay.

He's been at University of Northern Iowa for 2-1/2 months now, and he's connected with a church (playing drums there), and a running club, and the "UNI Outdoors" program, which is a group he went spelunking with in South Dakota this past weekend.

On Sunday, I texted him to ask if he knew UNI beat North Dakota State in football the day before, ending ND State's 33-game winning streak (!!).  No, he told me, I've been in a cave. Literally. 

And having the time of his life.

If it had been up to me, he wouldn't even be at UNI, majoring in leisure (which I try to say without rolling my eyes), and taking weekend trips to caves.

It's a good thing it wasn't up to me.

When your kid goes off to college, it makes you reflective as to whether you've done enough to prepare him for what's next. Dennis and I have done some things right, and some things very wrong. But one of the best things we've done is to mostly allow Trevor to choose his own paths along the way.

When I think back to the things that have been huge in his life, and have made him the person he is today, Dennis and I chose exactly ZERO of them. How's that for humbling?

Cross country -- I never would have guessed. When he was little, we signed him up for baseball and soccer. and bowling. :) In 7th grade, he decided he wanted to run. Okay, mister 9-minute mile. And then he worked his ass off until he was a team captain in high school and running varsity.

Drums -- We put him in grade-school band playing trumpet, and also got him hooked up with piano lessons. And then he asked where he could take drum lessons. School band? Yawn. We got him a drum set and an instructor... actually several instructors along the way. He has loved being in different garage bands, and has played some fun shows in Des Moines. He's made his way onto church praise teams, where he has found mentors in the realm of music, faith, life.

Y Camp -- Again, he's the one who brought up going to summer camp when he was nine. It hadn't even crossed my mind. Now he's on staff at the same camp he started at, and again, he's found friends and mentors and fun and adventure there. His camp experiences have largely paved the way for wanting to major in leisure (no eye roll).

College -- We visited a handful of schools, and thought the choices were fairly whittled down by the fall of his senior year, and then Trevor said, "Oh. And I want to visit UNI."

So there ya go. I still tried pulling for my alma mater, Truman State University, but I knew.

I hesitate to give much parenting advice. It's a tough job with constant second-guessing. But here's what I've learned from raising this one: he needed us to give him options and opportunities and encouragement along the way, and then he needed us to get out the way and let him be him.

I wouldn't have guessed. But that's kinda the point.

Last First Day

Today, Trevor and Nate head back to school to start the 2013-14 year as a high school senior and sophomore. First day of school, once again! This is my 15th First Day of School (it's worthy of capitalization), including the preschool years. The morning goodbye has a predictable routine. It might be the same at your house. "Wait! We need pictures! Yes, you have to. Stand over there. Closer to each other. Smile! Not that smile. C'mon, just a nice smile, please? Thank you. Okay, now hurry before you're late!" And they're off.

And today is a big one. Not only is it the first time I've watched the two of them drive off to the same building together, but it's Trevor's last First Day of School, at least for this chunk of life before college and whatever else lies ahead. And it makes me lightheaded. Someone get me a bag to breathe into. (Yes, again.) I'm fairly laid back. I don't stress over much. But when I think too much about this, the tears well and the hearing in my right ear goes out momentarily. It really does. I know, I should get that checked. 

I'm trying to figure out how to get through the next year. I want to feel the significance of the big moments, and also the little ones, without letting it get all unnecessarily melodramatic in my head, or worse, in public.

Many parents have forged the path before me, and they seem to have gotten through it, so I have sought and will keep seeking their advice. "How am I going to do this??" I usually don't get a real answer, but without exception, I do get a full dose of empathy in their eyes meeting mine. And that means something. I get the feeling there are things they don't know how to put into words, and that I'll understand those things in due time. Fair enough.

So, as I try to find my own way down this path, I'll be working on some strategies. The first one, on this last First Day of School, is to not be ridiculous and make it worse by pulling out a photo from his first day of kindergarten.

Hey cutie. So much for that one. But I'm not even crying. Really. Not at this moment, at least. Maybe I can do this after all.

Since this last First Day is just the first of more lasts to come (you following?), do feel free to tell me when I inevitably get pathetic, and we can laugh about it. That'll help. 

You'll have to speak into my left ear.

The Little Things. Like 1000 Tic Tacs.

As the boys get further into their teen years, I find perpetual adjustment is needed in finding ways of connecting with them. When opportunities open up, I try to be aware and make the most of them.

Take, for example, breath mints and gum.

Sometime in the past year, I noticed that when I had a pack of gum or mints in my car, the kids would always go for a piece. I started buying different flavors of gums, various types of mints... freshmint, spearmint, cherry mint (I don't recommend it), super mint blast, green leaf mint, whatever... and when a new flavor was introduced to the collection, it usually got notice. "oooh, blue arctic blast mint. cool."

Which only encouraged this mint discovery and hoarding practice.

This week I noticed that my console is literally overflowing with an assortment of checkout-lane impulse buys.

The casual observer might think I'm really into fresh breath.

Really, I'm just into my kids.