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 few 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 communicated 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. My escape artist. 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. 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. 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 naturallybecame 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.

In 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…  until I realized that my outward joy was triggering some unsociable attitudes – 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? Would they write detailed letters home (sans tears, unlike me)?

Heck, three weeks of awesome activities, silly skits, camp songs, campfires – I was thrilled for them and, yes, happy for moi.

Fast forward and leading up to my oldest heading off to college, I was sooooo ready. The summer before was NOT fun. I flash back to zero piles of clothes ready to pack, nada books ordered, diddly-squat necessities purchased… groundwork negligible… and 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. 

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.

To reiterate… being away from my children for any length of time was supposed to be horribly depressing. But was it? Really?

As I was in that phase of empty nesting, and facing those similar views, I admitted (to myself) that my empty nest scenario was actually pretty great. Admittedly … a rather unpopular viewpoint.

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 invited to!!

To be sure, I missed them like crazy and was tinged with sadness whenever we parted. But emptying that nest was a far cry from “out of sight/out of mind” more “out of sight/AND I didn’t have to worriedly wait up for them to come home”.

And it was amazing how my things stayed where I intended. Plus 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 mine was). And eating whenever and whatever we wanted was uncomplicated. Popcorn and ice cream… no complaints here.

More than those reflections, when we welcomed those toddlers, teenagers, young people home from their “away time” we got to hear about all their new experiences and witness how they were maturing into lovely, resilient, confident humans each step of the way.

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

… this so-called empty nesting gets my full endorsement… you boogie gurl.

~ image via Pinterest