The Empty Nesters are Not All Right

arivleone via Pixabay

 I've read numerous articles alerting readers to the fact that the parents of small children are not all right. They're stressed to the max, as I would have said in college, with simultaneous clouds of COVID, work stress, childcare stress, financial worries, and various other relationship concerns converging overhead and producing a never-ending thunderstorm of worry, punctuated by lightning strikes of unexpected crises that could morph into a fire at any time.

It's pretty bad. But other parents? We're not all right either.

Take the parents who sent their kids to college in the middle of a pandemic. That hole in the nest (or a totally empty nest) is a thundercloud in itself, one that also rarely travels alone. Are they ready to be on their own? Will they be able to manage their classes? What happens if they get sick? Will they go to a party that ends up endangering their lives? Does silence on their end mean they're thriving or curled up somewhere in the fetal position?

And then there are the parents whose kids graduated mid-pandemic. Their kids' final classes were not in classrooms, but on Zoom screens. The independence their young adults had grown into was stunted as they moved back into their childhood bedrooms. We watched for their names to flash on a screen as they celebrated four years of hard work by graduating in their own living rooms. Watched them try to navigate life after college in a world where everything was suddenly virtual, and newly empowered employees with experience asserted their value (rightfully so), leaving the inexperienced graduates competing with them for jobs that everyone (except those looking for a job) attests are plentiful.

No. The parents are not all right.

Let me begin by saying that I love my daughter and I'm grateful for the time we've been able to enjoy with her post-college graduation. Let me also say that I'm fully aware of the fact that many parents don't get this bonus time, and would give the world (or at least some substantial portion of it) to get that time. 

But this crazy, mixed-up progression of high school graduate to college student to virtual student to living room graduate is growth-stunting for parents and young adults alike. We raised our kids so they'd be ready to fly and then, when that time came, the pandemic clipped their wings. We mourned our empty nests, slowly grew accustomed to our kids' independence, and learned along the way how to navigate a new sort of relationship.

From afar.

And then they moved back home. 

At first, it was a treat. An extended break where we lovingly cooked their favorite meals and picked up their dirty socks.

But two years is simultaneously too long to treat our kids as guests and not long enough to figure out how to parent young adults living in their childhood bedrooms. Two weeks is too long for dirty socks and college hours and sharing a bathroom that had finally become our own. 

Let me reiterate: I love my daughter and I'm glad she's here. But after spending more than three years growing accustomed to simple pleasures like a quiet house and uncluttered surfaces -- small reward for the gaping silence and sadness of those first few months of freshman year -- I want a timeline for her declaration of independence. Not because I want her gone but because the longer she stays, the more I realize how hard it will be to let her go again. 

And so I focus on the shoes I trip over and the mess in the kitchen and my loss of control of the remote because contemplating the next step feels so much like a do-over of one of the hardest parenting journeys of my life. 

I know how to say goodbye after spring break, or even a summer. But for the foreseeable future?

That's something altogether different. 

Leading with my Heart

Pixabay

It is nearly 7 pm on a weeknight. I have a pile of partially graded exams on the table in the family room, 2 stacks of papers to grade and a class to prepare for. Tomorrow, I collect another stack of papers. And where am I? 

At the mall. 

A few feet away, my daughter, who is home for spring break, is in a dressing room seeking to upgrade her wardrobe. I am one part fashion consultant, one part financier and completely delighted that she still wants me along for the ride.

Even if it means this blog will get posted tomorrow.

My daughter was home on spring break this week. Initially, we weren't expecting to see her, so having her around has been an unexpected pleasure. Between spending time with her and losing an hour of sleep on Saturday night/Sunday morning, my usual efficiency, a bit tenuous at times as it is, has taken a hit, especially since my spring break has already come and gone.

This morning, I'm more tired than usual, and more behind schedule as well. The slides for my classes needed more work than I anticipated, meaning that grading got pushed aside for both my sake and my students'. (They really didn't want me grading their short answer questions at midnight. Trust me).

In addition, I also felt the eensiest bit guilty that the exams aren't ready to be handed back, but you know what? I shook that off. 

So often in life, we do the right thing, the practical thing, the expected thing (a.k.a. the grown-up thing). These are often good choices and, when they merge, it's pretty easy to do them all. 

Pixabay

But yesterday, they collided. The right thing to do was to spend time with my daughter.  Was it practical to go shopping instead of checking things off my to-do list? Probably not. And as for the expected adulting, my daughter's only here for one more day, those papers aren't going anywhere and besides, adulting is overrated.

Am I sorry the papers aren't graded? Yes. Am I sorry I spent time with my daughter instead? Not a chance.

Sometimes, you just have to push practical out of the way and lead with your heart. 

Miss Her More

              Pixabay

When both of her kids stayed in Pennsylvania after attending college there, my mom adjusted. She fell into a routine of not seeing us, remaining connected via phone calls and visits. The former were at least as frequent as they'd been when we were in college, the latter less so. Still, we stayed close, chatting often about both trivia and events of significance. Last fall, we talked a lot about the impending election and, though I miss my mom tremendously, I'm glad she's not here to see the aftermath.

But I digress.

It was the visits that got her. She always said she was fine with us being away until we came to visit and then, when we left, she missed us all over again.

I thought I got it then, but I really get it now.

On Friday, I was so excited about my daughter coming home for the weekend that I posted my Friday Feature on the wrong blog (at least that's the excuse I'm using). When I picked her up at the train station, it took all of twenty seconds for everything to feel as though she'd never left, and then, almost as quickly, it was time for her to leave again. A seasoned traveler now, she said her goodbyes in the parking lot before walking off into the station to board the train.

Today, the house is very quiet. That's not entirely bad, as Mondays are a work-at-home day for me for much of the day and I concentrate better in the absence of distractions. Still, there's a difference between quiet and occupied and quiet and unoccupied. Even though I've grown accustomed to the latter and have even built my schedule around it, I'd trade it for the former any time, even if only for a weekend.

We'll see her again at Thanksgiving, and I'm already looking forward to it. We texted back and forth this morning -- a luxury that makes this whole away at college thing easier than it ever was for my parents -- re-establishing the empty nest at home/young adult at school dynamic.

All of this begs a question: if I could change things and have her closer to home, or living here full-time, would I?

I would not.

idamkilde via Pixabay

I'm proud of the person she is becoming, and grateful to have a child with whom I truly want to spend time. I love it when she's home, but when she's not it's because she is doing exactly what we raised her to do: spreading her wings, becoming her own person, relying on us when she wants to instead of because she has to. She has done her job; she has entertained us, challenged us and rounded out our family. Now, it's time for her to leave us to our own devices, trusting that we'll be just fine and our empty nest will always have plenty of room for her.

And, as you can probably guess, she is safe in that assumption.

Friday Feature: Raising Kids

I'm not a businesswoman, but I find some of my favorite articles (and Friday features) in business magazines. Quick reads that are well-sourced and cut to the chase, they offer bite-sized takeaways that are useful beyond the business world. And, they always manage to have headlines that pull me in as well.

This week's article from Inc. is no exception. "Want to Raise Successful Kids? Make Sure to do This" shares advice from Grit author Angela Duckworth. Duckworth's advice?

Show them what you want them to become.

Or, as I've said often this semester, common sense and psychology meet. And they agree.

So simple, and yet so difficult. Duckworth,  a professor at University of Pennsylvania and a leading voice in the field of positive psychology, shares a few other insights in the article as well, mostly from the perspective of a mom.

In other news, because I found this funny, but it didn't quite rise to the level of a Friday Feature, here's something every household with folks over 50 should have.

Happy Friday.

How Long Should that Electronic Tether Be?

I've had the pleasure of being a contributor at CatholicMom.com for quite a while now. Last week, I wrote a Tech Talk piece that I'm especially proud of. Since I'm heading out of town today and time is short, I'm letting it do double duty and posting it below for your reading pleasure today. 

See you Wednesday. :-)

Lewisburg, PA Streelight
via Citizens Electric

Last week, I read an article suggesting that we should stalk our kids on social media. Okay, the author didn’t actually use the word “stalk,” but when we’re advised to be on every platform our kids are on to see what they’re posting, when they’re posting and what they’re posting about, I have to wonder if this is parenting advice or spy school.

While I agree that children need checks and balances when it comes to social media, and that vigilance is important with younger consumers of technology, I’m not a big fan of the “follow them everywhere” school of thought. In my opinion, if a child is old enough to be on social media, he or she is old enough to have a certain amount of freedom there — freedom that should increase with age and experience. I find it ironic that some of the people who suggest that we shouldn’t trust our kids as far as their electronic tethers will carry them also post memes from “the good old days” when the streetlights called us home. Our parents didn’t follow us everywhere. Why should we do that to our kids?

Please understand — I’m not a fan of unfettered technological freedom either. In my mind, there’s a minimum age of entry for each social media platform. Different levels of maturity are required to manage Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Snapchat (to name just a few). But, in my opinion, the best way to help kids navigate the online world is the same way they navigate the real world — step-by-step, with direct assistance at first and with less help as they demonstrate their ability to manage the virtual world.

My daughter got her first cell phone at nine, at least three years sooner than we’d planned. An injury at basketball practice convinced my husband and I that she needed an emergency contact option, shortening our timeline dramatically.

The phone came with rules. No texting. No phone in the bedroom after bedtime. No phone at family meals. Always answer when Mom or Dad calls, or risk losing the phone.

She was so excited to get the phone, she agreed to everything, and although some of those rules are now laughable (no texting??), many simply became habit (we still don’t allow phones at mealtimes — for the kids or the adults). As time went on, some rules relaxed, some required further discussion and some faded once she demonstrated her ability to handle the technology she’d been handed. And, as technology improved and became more ubiquitous, new freedoms (and apps) entered the picture and we had to adjust accordingly.

Pixabay

Make no mistake — that phone wasn’t for her. It was for us. She just happened to be in possession of it.

But it was also a teachable moment. At nine, she was willing to accept the rules we laid out. Over time and as she entered her teens, the phone became a tool that was useful for more than communicating over airwaves, ushering in other kinds of communication as well: discussions about rules, respect, safety and independence.

Technology is a given in our world. By trusting our children with these tools in developmentally appropriate ways, we allow them to experiment and make mistakes while we’re still there to catch them and help them if they falter. They develop freedom in this realm on our watch, under our supervision, so that by the time they need privacy and secrecy as teenagers they know what they’re doing and how to handle themselves. Just as we let go of our toddlers’ hands a little at a time as they learn to walk, we can do the same as we let our kids tiptoe into technology. And just as they’ll never learn to walk on their own if we never let go, they’ll struggle to navigate both technology and the social world that comes with it if we’re constantly looking over their shoulders. They’ll never learn how to trust themselves if we don’t trust them first, a little at a time.

So, be knowledgeable. Know what’s out there. Make rules. Be vigilant. Listen–to the news, but mostly, to your kids. Explain the rules and be ready to adjust them as your kids grow old enough to handle more freedom. Ask them questions about things you’ve heard. Often, the worst-case scenarios we fear aren’t a part of our kids’ worlds anyway.

It’s hard to give our kids freedom. We want to protect them and keep them safe from all the bad stuff out there. Ironically, the best way to do that is to offer freedom a little at a time, and arm them with knowledge every step of the way.

Friday Feature: Why Be Bored?

Pixabay

On a day when the news is anything but boring, it may seem odd for me to be posting about boredom, but, in fact, psychologists recommend a healthy dose of boredom -- at least for kids:

"Your role as a parent is to prepare children to take their place in society. Being an adult means occupying yourself and filling up your leisure time in a way that will make you happy," says Lyn Fry, a child psychologist in London with a focus on education. "If parents spend all their time filling up their child's spare time, then the child's never going to learn to do this for themselves."

Although this is the last thing un-bored parents want to hear, perhaps summer is the time to re-evaluate our own boredom -- or the lack thereof. Personally, I can't remember the last time I was bored, but that's due, in large part, to accomplishing exactly what Fry suggests -- filling up my leisure time in a way that makes me happy.

Does your leisure time make you happy? Do you even have any leisure time? One of the ideas suggested in the Quartz article is sitting down at the start of summer and making a list with your child of all the things they want to do. One summer, when my daughter was small, we created a bingo board for this purpose, filling in squares with camps and day trips and activities. Then, when she got bored, she had a resource to go to. We couldn't always manage an impromptu trip to the beach at 3pm, but that taught the value of planning ahead.

We adults might want to try something similar -- but no fair listing chores and projects. While "paint the kitchen" will certainly alleviate boredom, it belongs on a to-do list, not a summer fun list -- unless you're someone who loves such tasks. In a perfect world, our down-time dovetails with our kids' bored time, enabling us to entertain and enjoy one another.

Until that happens, you're bound to hear "I'm bored" a few (thousand) times. As you send your kids off to play outside, check the list or find a toy that inspires creative play, remind yourself you're building life skills.

Or maybe you should pull out a coloring book and join them.