Separation Anxiety; How can I let him go?

     18 years ago at this time I was preparing a nursery, anxiously awaiting the arrival of our first child. From crib to mobile, diapers to bibs, I shopped and shopped and bought every necessity (and non-necessity) for our baby that money could buy. Flash forward to present day and here I am, going on shopping sprees again for this same child, except now we are furnishing a dorm room. The irony is not lost on me.

      Most mothers cannot wait for their baby to be born, and to hold them in their arms. Instead I was acutely aware that the act of giving birth was the first of many separations I would face as a mother. For 9 months it had been just the two of us, and the realization that now I would have to be polite and share my baby with grandparents and friends made me sad. Like most new moms I never wanted to put baby down, in awe of the love I felt for him.

      More separations were to come. Dropping him off at preschool, or a play date, trusting someone to care for your child just as well as yourself- it was a nervous thing. Before long the first day of Kindergarten rolled along and it was a rough day. Again I shopped. Special pencils and erasers, folders, backpacks, and lunchboxes adorned with smiling dinosaurs and beloved childhood characters were stockpiled on the dining room table. I sat up with a Sharpie and carefully labeled every crayon and glue stick with love, with hearts instead of dots over the letter “i”. The night before the first day I lovingly packed that special dragon lunchbox, filling it with my child's favorite foods, drawing a big heart on the napkin with a love letter to make him smile, and I laid out his new sneakers and favorite outfit. Watching that little munchkin climb the steep steps of the school bus I thought my heart was breaking in my chest. I smiled and waved and blew kisses, and as soon as the bus drove away we hopped into the car and followed that bus straight to the school to be there when he disembarked, and walked him to his new classroom where we handed him over to a stranger who promised to take good care of him. That was a hard day.
      Every year after that we celebrated the last day of school, and I would cry on the first, missing my babies, wishing the house weren't so quiet while they were gone. But it wasn't so bad, because every afternoon that big yellow bus faithfully rolled up to the bus stop and there were my peanuts; smiling and waving, anxious to tell me all about their days and all was right with the world again. Before I knew it, more firsts came along. First sleepover, first sleep-away camp, even the ultimate freedom: driver's licenses. Each one was difficult in its own way, but at the end of the day they always returned and we would talk about their experiences, and I could still tuck them in at night.

      Until now. It's two nights before my oldest moves into his dorm and begins his first year of college. This time my entire dining room is stockpiled with everything a kid's dorm room could need, and then some. Laundry is getting done like never before, in part because every load is a practice lesson for the kid. Every trip we take to shop I find myself sounding OLD, reminding him of campus safety, the dangers of drugs, not missing classes... I'm pretty sure he is tuning out but still I feel better if I say it out loud. I realize now, in hindsight, Kindergarten was a walk in the park compared to this. There's no bus that will deliver him home everyday, and no more will he shout over his siblings to tell me about his day, “It's MY turn to talk!” It's going to be pretty quiet here, and I don't love this at all.

      Despite how (clearly) difficult this transition has been, I have also had some epiphanies as well. Remembering this rite of passage in my own life I realize I wasn't nervous or dreading the transition, instead I was excited and I embraced it with fervor! I made some of my best friends in my freshman dorm, and the new-found freedom I had was liberating. I grew up. I learned I could do things on my own, and that I was self sufficient. I survived an awful roommate, and through that experience I learned how to deal with unpleasant people and situations, something we all unfortunately have to do in life in jobs, living situations, volunteering, and even in public. Looking back I now know some of the biggest, most hard fought lessons I learned weren't in the classroom, but instead were personal, life lessons.

      I also remember college as one of the most wonderful times of my life. I was young and carefree, my only real responsibility to do well in my studies. I now have taken the time to tell my son just how different and amazing learning can be when you have chosen what you wish to learn. Never again should school be boring, it should be exhilarating and challenging. It is such a special experience, filled with learning and growing, establishing relationships and friendships that last a lifetime. It is a time to become a young adult, and I am looking forward to seeing him grow through this process, and to see what he will eventually end up doing in his life. These thoughts comfort me, because I realize now there has not been one stage of parenthood I haven't loved. And with that knowledge I realize that this stage will be no different; while his geography will change, he will always be our son- that will never change.

      At the same time some parents are preparing their children to go off in a different way; to serve in the armed forces. While I have no personal experience with this, I have friends who do. I can only imagine the pride they have watching their children go off to serve our country, and just how much they will miss them. Oftentimes the members of our armed forces are stationed across country or even overseas, and deployments can stretch for very long periods of time. If you know a parent who will be saying their goodbyes to their children as they enter the US Navy, US Air Force, the US Army, or the Marines, or, give them a hug and thank them for their children's service as well as their sacrifice.

     For all the parents who are reading this, and are commiserating this process along with me, I have been given tips from veteran parents, whose babies have gone off to college before mine. They suggest planning time for you once you have gotten them settled. A date night, or weekend trip perhaps. Also a letter to your child, left behind in his dorm room to read at a later date helps as well, both mom and child alike. Even preparing a care package, filled with your child's favorite things can be fun to assemble, and fun for your child to receive. Sometimes adopting a new fur baby can also help fill that void. Another advantage to this is a new puppy or kitten just may be the inspiration for your college student to come home for a weekend visit! But most importantly, remember to congratulate yourselves as well. While we may miss them while they are away, take comfort in knowing you did your job, and you did it well. You raised them to be responsible kids with achievements and goals and a desire to seek out higher education, or to protect and defend our country. Good job, moms and dads. Cheers to you!

~My Story~

Once upon a time there was this girl... born an only child in Buffalo, NY, who lived a fairly unremarkable life. Though not for lack of trying. Growing up as an only child, you must have a big imagination- huge actually- to keep yourself entertained. As a kid I was convinced I would grow up to be a famous actress. (Think "The Facts of Life") I vividly recall sitting in my hairdresser's chair telling her I needed to be famous someday, otherwise there was no point in living. 


Fast forward to middle school, I recall the guidance counselor's coming around having us take a ridiculous assessment test, which would supposedly help us determine where our interests and talents were to decide our future careers. Seriously. I was 12. I remember thinking what a joke it was, and have no idea what my test indicated. To be honest, I think I filled in the bubbles in a pictorial pattern....


By the time I got to high school the pressure was ON. So many of my peers seemed to have their lives mapped out. Career, when to be married, how many  kids they wanted. Freshman year my counselor asked me, "What are your plans for the future?" I told her I wanted to be an undertaker, and stifled a laugh when she asked me if I had a fascination with death. No, I had no intention to attend mortician school. (I honestly don't know what it is really called!) I was simply being a cocky, smartass teen. 


During those high school years I had fun. Amid the fun I did begin to mature, and began writing editorials for the school newspaper, and took journalism as an elective. Aside from being an avid reader, it seemed I could write fairly well. This I directly credit my growing up as an only child. I spent the bulk of my time with adults, and had a mother who talked to me more like an adult friend than her daughter. I always had a large vocabulary, and won nearly every verbal fight I had ever had, because I was always a quick thinker, and a bit of a word smith. 


My other talent was singing/performing. I was a member of our auditioned show choir, in the school musicals, and participated in select honor choirs and All County Chorales. But somehow "Broadway" didn't seem much like a practical career goal, particularly when my third talent was clumsiness. With 2 left feet, my dancing skills were not quite up to professional standards. 


Finally junior year rolled around, and brought along with it SAT's and college applications. There was no internet "back in the day" so I began scouring the guidance office for college materials and reading up. How to choose? Well, it seemed a pesky major was going to be requested, so boom. Communications with a minor in journalism. Sounded very official and gave me something to say when all the aunts and uncles began asking. So I married it, and chose a school with a great program for it. Graduation came, and that fall I  attended Kent State University.


Well, sort-of. I mean, I was there. In a dorm. I had a schedule, and books. And freedom. What did I learn at KSU? I learned that my favorite bar was The Library, because they had $2 pitchers and how to drink said pitchers through a straw. I learned that classes weren't really mandatory because they were in lecture halls filled with 100 of my closest friends, and the profs never even knew if you were there. I also learned that your parents will yank you back home if you begin failing said classes because they weren't paying out of state tuition for me to party. Oops. 


Back home again I was down in the dumps. It probably goes without saying that being an only child- and a female- that my parents kept me under careful watch. I transferred to a local community college and began plotting my return to KSU in the fall. That was until I met my husband.


Now, I know what you;re thinking- I was only 18. But after a few dates, I knew he was "the one". This was a big deal, I was not the type of girl who even mentioned marriage, and disliked baby sittng. I had no daydreams about "someday" when I would be married to my Prince Charming and having babies. But here I was, a baby myself, with a one karat solitaire diamond on my finger, planning my wedding.


I stayed in school at the community college, and began changing up career ideas.  Perhaps I was best suited to be a teacher. Or did I want to go into broadcast journalism? No, writing was for me, it was my thing. But then advertising (Such a broad spectrum career!) was on my radar... It was too much, too fast. My brain wasn't able to process the thoughts. I was preoccupied with my new love, and planning a wedding. I wanted tomorrow to begin that moment. And patience was never my strong point.


So I withdrew. I needed to take time off to figure out what I wanted "to be". 


And in the meantime, I became a wife. And a mother- 3 times over. I made the ever important decision to be a stay at home  mother, one of the best decisions I ever made. I supported my husband's career, encouraging him to make a "big move". And we did. We relocated to Rochester, NY, and his career has grown leaps and bounds. He is thrilled with his company, and career, and I am happy for him. 


I happily stayed home, making each house a home, loving taking care of the kids- and hated when they were old enough to leave me and begin school. When my littlest egg began school full-time, I was left to wonder "Now what?" And 6 years later, I am still trying to figure out the answer to that question. And I guess I am also hoping that this blog may help me to sort that out...


To be continued...