FLEEING THE COOP

“Is my mom going to be okay when I leave for college?”

This must be the refrain of all those lovely children leaving for college. I see the posts. And so do they. The chorus of mamas blubbering, agonizing, crying into the memory quilt lovingly made up of all the t-shirts accumulated over the years. Waaaaaaa...

Transitions are hard. Trust me, I am a crier of ample magnitude … last day of this-that-and-the- other-thing. I get it. And despite the fact that It’s been a number of years since my chickees’ college sendoff, it’s that time of year for many. Facebook clued me in.

My experience back then was flush with parents clearly communicating how I was to feel when my children headed off to college … let alone pre-school and all the transitions following full day kindergarten. Being away from my child for any length of time was supposed to be horribly depressing.

But was it?

Let me make this very clear – I adore my children beyond words and loved/love spending time with them.

But was I really THAT sad when dropped off throughout the years for their time away from me?

My heartache was mostly due to the fact that getting them to go was not always easy – so my tears were a combination of stress and relief.

Example: my first born…

Getting her dressed and dropped off for her twice weekly morning preschool situation was a comedy routine filled with much blood, sweat and tears. All mine. Once strapped in her car seat I could breathe a sigh of relief. And we were on our way. The wheels on the bus… everybody!

Upon arrival it was a quick peek in my rearview mirror to realize I was (yet again) faced with a child WEARING ONLY A SMILE.

Yep, in the few minutes it took to arrive at our desired destination my daughter managed to completely disrobe. And there she sat in naked defiance.

Whatcha gonna do now MAMA?!

I’ll tell you what I did. Next morning, strapped into her seat, in her pajamas, away we went. Upon arrival … PJ’s intact. Ha!

Perhaps dumbfounded by the absence of exasperating appareling, it hadn’t occurred to her to strip off her jammies. Dazed and confused, I handed her off to a teacher with a change of clothes and a see ya later. Done.

Junior Kindergarten – same daughter…

Once I was able to cool-headedly peel her off of me and hand her on over (it took some strategic unfastening) she was welcomed by a wonderful teacher and princess dresses. But it was those mornings of getting dressed that would continue to be, well, torturous, stressful and nerve-racking.

And by that time I had two and getting both girls out the door (on time) was typically (let me repeat) torturous, stressful and nerve-racking.

But we turned a corner with that first borns’ desire to wear a uniform.

OF HER CHOOSING.

Fancying a shorts unitard with a purple crushed velvet-like bodice, plucked from the recesses of her drawer – she wore that “uniform” alone or as a foundation garment topped with dress, skirt or leggings. For days, weeks, months.

That thing was washed within an inch of its life and after the unitard ran its course – it was a number of cockamamie outfits.

Prior to having children, I often wondered about some of those cockamamie outfits and lack of parental fashion discernment. It eventually became my “aha moment” when I realized I was that parent (mom of self-dresser) OOOHHHHHH…

Having much the same separation issues with daughter number two, it naturally became easier to do the peel-off-hand-over AND be fully supportive of interesting fashion picks.

In similar fashion… the “Dorothy” dress had quite a run.

And again I ask, “was time away really the worst thing ever? Don’t we deserve a little ‘me-time‘?

Looking back, it struck me that “time away” has always been filled with opposites.

Doing the happy dance the summer both kids went off to overnight camp was pretty fantastic! Pretty fantastic until I realized that my outward joy was triggering some unsociable attitudes from first time camper parents – towards me.

On the other hand, despite the fact that I did that bit of prancing about, I thought of them twenty-four-seven.

What were they doing?

Were they having fun?

I waited patiently by the mailbox for detailed letters. Would they be sans tears? (unlike the versions I wrote home from girl scout camp where I begged my parents to come get me and circled the tears on my letters).

Heck, three weeks of awesome activities, silly skits, camp songs, campfires, water skiing, talent shows, no frills cabins and just a whole lot of girls – I was thrilled for them and, yes, I can admit, happy for moi.

Fast forward.

Leading up to my oldest heading off to college … was NOT the funnest summer ever. Imagine zero piles of clothes ready for packing, nada books ordered, diddly-squat necessities purchased … groundwork negligible … and, oh yes, the silent treatment.

Needless to say, I was soooo ready for school to begin – to toss some essentials in a garbage bag and get going. Let’s move this along. 

But when it came time for goodbye we cried (a lot) and I sobbed on the way home. 

Two years later, when my youngest faced me all teary-eyes for her college goodbye with the following pronouncement, “ I don’t know how long I can stay here”, I wanted to both hold on tighter than ever while also stating, “I was hoping for 4 years.”

Then came the tears. MINE.

Yes I cried and sobbed and boo-hooed because I adore them! And of course I missed them. BUT was being away from my children, for any length of time, as horribly depressing as many parents alleged?

Post college, confronting life without my chickees close at hand, I was again faced with the chatterings of parental angst.

I have a rather unpopular viewpoint. Empty nesting is the shit!

Waking the next morning with a Netflix hangover after binging with my hubby was no big deal – there was no one else to get up and out the door.

Furthermore, eye rolling was at a minimum (at least my husband’s was). And eating whenever and whatever we wanted was fab.

Sure they had flown-ish the coop, and I had to get used to all the quiet, but hey they came home, messed up the joint and I got to clean up after the party I wasn’t even invited to!! Fantastic.

To be sure, I am still tinged with sadness whenever we part. But sending them off to college, followed by emptying that nest, was a far cry from “out of sight/out of mind” more like “out of sight/AND I didn’t have to worriedly wait up for them to come home at night.”

Through the years we welcome those toddlers, teenagers, young people home from their “away time”and get to hear all about the little happenings and big adventures. And when they come home, whether it’s after two hours or two months, we get to ask sooooo many questions. Whether they like it or not.

So bid a joyful adieu to those dear offspring as they embark on this new adventure called college. Send them off with an enthusiastic toodaloo. Trust me, they will call, when they need you, ‘cause they will still need you … always and forever.

I say, dance if you want to. Do a little skip and spin. I’ll be the mom whispering in your ear…

… wipe those tears sister, this so-called me-time gets my full endorsement … you boogie gurl.

~ image via Pinterest