When it’s time for them to come back

Last August, I wrote a couple of posts about the slow slide to the empty (albeit temporary) nest. For the first time, both of our kids would be in college, and my husband and I would rediscover life as a couple. This is an update, nine months later. Oh, how time slowly flies.

Read When it's Time for Them to Leave Part 1 and Part 2 to catch up.

Looking back at my previous anticipatory posts, which now seem eons away, it’s funny to recall those combined feelings of both parental anxiety, longing and glee as the almost-grown children took a significant step away from us. Julia, the senior, was moving into her first solo apartment experience.

The joys and trials of independence would hit them both in unexpected ways, both exciting and daunting. I’m happy to report they both made it through with flying colors; or at least, unscathed. In many ways, they have matured greatly, however the transition back to the cozy home nest can create some backslide into older family dynamics that are less than grown up. Regardless, we made some interesting observations about each child in their new school environments this year.

The elder child

This year, Julia called home most nights of the week. I think she had a hard time with the quiet space of living by herself, and while she did enjoy a healthy social and academic life, there was no one to talk to when she got home. She definitely thrives on connection with people she cares about, even if it is to debrief, vent, or have a deep conversation about a topic du jour. While it might seem odd, it’s nice to know that she values our company, counsel, and comfort.

For all of the difficult teen years, any questions we may have had about our parenting seem to be answered: we must have done a pretty good job of she’s reaching out to us on a regular basis. While there were times when we questioned whether she’d actually complete her graduation requirements (she has a penchant for staying in bed when she’s just not feeling it), she took care of her business, and walked proudly at commencement. The proof was seeing her name printed in the program. We are proud, to be sure.

She’ll return to school for one more year to complete her 4+1 program as she figures out the next segment of the path towards becoming a college professor. More education, for sure, and the academic setting seems to be the sweet spot for the convergence of her interests and talents. For the moment, she’ll enjoy a little decompression, hopefully get out of the house and work part time, and restore her soul at home before setting up camp with her new roommate. If this year was instructive at all, she learned that a roommate is key to her daily sanity. I’m all about the good, self-taught life lessons.

For now, she is finding the balance between decompression, figuring out a work schedule, and working on a Master’s paper that needs finishing.

The younger child

Sophia, the one who was historically dependent on us for most of her decisions, rarely reached out to us from school. It was a bit unnerving, to be honest. For someone who relied so heavily on us to get through her formative years, she was committed to learn how to function independently (or at least without her parents) in a college setting. We’d call or text her once a few too many days had passed, just to make sure she was still alive (she was). Her texts were usually quick, quippy responses, no more than six words, and despite our best efforts to engage, she’d give little information about the details of her existence. She’d drop an occasional hint of something interesting, like being elected to next year’s eboard for two of her club activities or going to a club social event. We FaceTimed her one day, and she was at an amusement park with her friends, two hours away. We were both stunned and elated that she took that kind of initiative to make a plan, pay for it, and go somewhere fun with friends.

It is mind-blowing to me that my youngest kid has completed her first year of college. She’s the same soul, but quietly wiser and a bit more sure of herself. While not as chatty as her sister, there’s so much going on in her head and she sees everything. We delight in the fact that she’s exploring so many interests at school, perhaps playing catchup from her slower development throughout her formative years, and she’s holding her own.

Now, it’s time to figure out how to extend all that activity and growth into the summer. Getting a job and her driver’s permit are her (my) first and second priorities.

Back at home

In what now seems a blink, the college school year was over and it was time for the girls to return to the nest.

We moved both girls back home within four days of each other. Julia’s graduation was the Saturday morning before Mother’s Day, where we were early risers to watch the big event, pack the car, have lunch, and drive 2.5 hours back home. At home, we unpacked the car and the next day picked up Sophie, where we moved half of her stuff out of her dorm, celebrated Mother’s Day with the family, then deposited her back at school. Two days later, I went back to complete the job after Sophie’s last exam. In two hours, we were back to an empty dorm room, a packed car, and drove her away having finished her first year of college. 🤯

The new normal

Once again, we are a house of four people, two dogs and a cat. It will surely require some adjustment to coexist in our new normal. Everything is both the same and very different, and I’ll admit I am in a bit of limbo as we look to what comes next in the summer months.

Our two kids couldn’t be more different from each other, which to be honest was sometimes confounding throughout their formative years. How we’d respond for one kid usually did not apply well to the other. We had to learn to manage our expectations, which was not easy for two first-born, high-achieving, productive parents, and we eventually came to a place where we both understood that we are no longer driving the ship on our own, whether we liked it or not. While they definitely still rely on us for so many things, they have both waded in the waters of independence. Once one feels that freedom, going back to the structure of home is just weird. For all of us.

My kids are definitely creatures of comfort, homebodies to the core, and we know that they are good at hunkering down in bed and playing couch potato. But they both also have enjoyed being selectively social, enjoying the company of the small circle of friends they have curated. Thankfully, neither are the “wild child” type, and for the most part, we don’t fear for their safety when they’re away. Somehow, we’ve instilled enough of our caution/sense/paranoia that their decision-making skills and gut-warning systems are pretty solid.

I think that now, our parenting concerns lie in the “what’s the next part of the plan” category. Of course as late-teen/early 20s humans, squarely in the throes of Gen Z angst, my kids are even more aware of those questions, even if they don’t have all the pieces of the puzzle in front of them. But there are signs of forethought, that they are developing as they muddle through their semi-independent lives. For now, it’s time for them to find jobs and things to do until it’s time to haul their lives back to school.

We have all come so far

Now, as we will all be living in the same space once again for longer than just a couple of vacation weeks, I am sensing my own mixed feelings about the situation. To be honest, my husband and I LOVED being home on our own for the first time in 22 years. It was quiet and we didn’t have to answer to or plan for anyone but ourselves. There was a simplicity to our lives; just us and the animals, who are basically furry children, but once their primal needs are met, it’s all about snuggles and sleeping. There are no errant comments taken poorly or extra dishes left in the sink. I can’t say we didn’t worry about the human children, but we were committed to letting them figure their lives out with as little intervention from us as possible.

Parents and children growing together

In this new phase, we are going on more date nights, seeing shows and concerts, and enjoying more quiet time for two. Our precious brain energy is spent thinking about retirement, menopausal transition, and where we left our wallet/keys/glasses/phone. We even joined AARP (!!!). We are mulling the questions of what we will do and where we will be in our next 30-50 years? Hopefully, the answer is enjoying each other and staving off senility. Maybe we’ll do it in an RV.

Of course, what we do will always depend on what our kids are doing, because let’s face it, they never stop being our kids. We are Gen X parents of Gen Z kids. Our job now is to usher them through the confusing, complicated, and exhausting introduction into “adulting.” We have had over 30 years to process the realities that come with getting jobs, finding careers, paying rent and monthly mortgage payments, buying cars, filing taxes and every challenge in-between. Through their eyes, it seems like an insurmountable Everest, but they know that we are there to be their sherpas, as they need it, to go step by step through the climb. After all, we have been all over that mountain and have survived to plan our next steps.