Admitting that my kids, now 16 and 19, don’t need me as much anymore is sometimes difficult. Sometimes it’s a relief, but when I’ve had to send them off for long stretches of time, I haven’t always handled it well. Now, after four tries with my oldest, I think I’m finally getting the hang of this letting go stuff. I guess the fourth time, not third, is a charm.
Last Saturday, I dropped my first born off at school in Vermont to start his sophomore year of college. Despite it being only his second year in college, it’s his fourth year away from us (he did two years of high school at a boarding school in CT). Needless to say, this routine is old hat for us.
Ironically though, even after two years away at boarding school, the college drop-off scene last year did not go well. You can read about it here, but long story short, I called him an asshole and left before his room was fully decorated. It wasn’t pretty.
The backstory to that post was that the days leading up to freshman drop-off were stressful. My son is not a planner and I am. [This is the crux of the problem, I know.] Despite my nagging all summer long, he left all the dorm shopping for the last minute. Because he still didn’t have a driver’s license at the time, his poor planning became my problem. Needless to say, I wasn’t nice about it.
Fast forward to this year, and at 19, he’s still not a good planner. But this time, his poor planning did not become my problem. I finally learned how to step back and step out. It’s his responsibility, not mine, and he’ll figure it out. [He finally got his driver’s license, so this made it easier, tbh.]
I will admit that quitting micromanaging cold turkey was hard. I started to get involved, making suggestions for what he should pack and how he should pack it, but I backed off when he told me he had it under control. Doubtful, I thought, but I got the memo. He can handle it — or he can’t and he’ll figure it out. They do have stores in Vermont, after all.
Friday night, he packed the car. I have no idea what he packed or how he packed it. All I know is that when we arrived on campus Saturday afternoon, a few “loose” items came tumbling out of the car when the doors were opened, which explained the empty bags and carriers left behind. At least nothing broke.
College move-in day as a sophomore is very different from freshman year. You’re on your own. No welcome committee. No directed parking. No throngs of co-eds descending upon your vehicle to whisk away your stuff. None of that. It’s a total free-for-all … or at least it felt that way.
Turns out, the university had sent all the necessary information to my son, but he didn’t opened his email all summer. Always resourceful, he texted his suitemates who were already on campus and moved in. Problem solved. No sweat off his back.
And more importantly, none off mine either. Learning from my hands-off approach to his packing, I stayed out of it. And guess what? He figured it out. Rather quickly, I might add.
When it came time to set up his room, I again stayed out of it. He did ask me to make his bed, but other than that, he didn’t want my help. I’m sure he still has clothes in duffle bags and shoes in boxes, but he’ll figure it out. After all, it’s his room, not mine. As long as it doesn’t bother his roommate, it’s all good.
College is about growth and learning, but I think I’m learning and growing just as much as he is. Recognizing that my manchild doesn’t need my help — or opinion — all the time, and acting as such, is a huge deal for me. Even bigger is that I’m not taking his attitude personally. I wasn’t sad or hurt that he didn’t want my help. I was proud. Proud of how he’s growing up and taking charge. [Note: I’m not proud of his decorating style, but if he likes to keep things simple with just a few posters and LED lights, who am I to judge?]
It’s only been three days and I definitely miss him. I’m prepared for a few missteps along his journey, but I really am proud of how he’s maturing. He’s kind, helpful, loyal, and compassionate. What more can a mother ask for, other than weekly FaceTime calls and regular texts saying how much he loves me?! [Note to kids: Photos, like this one H sent me on Monday from his first class of the year, are good, too.]
-LJDT
