No one, and I mean no one, can get on an eighteen-year-old’s nerves like their Momma.
I can think of a couple of others that come close, but I am the Grand Champion of inadvertently pushing my young adult daughter’s buttons. And I’m seeing it all around me. When this subject comes up with other parents sending their kiddos to college, more often than not tears surface and big eyes question, “Wait you mean we’re not the only ones??”
Esther and I attended Camp War Eagle last month, Auburn’s summer orientation for incoming freshman. They do a great job of providing separate student and parent tracks, so parents get to attend and learn about Auburn and all of its amazingness, but it allows students some autonomy from having to be with their parents much at all. I was reminded again during CWE that it’s a tricky dynamic for these “college” students to spend their first few days on campus as an actual student WITH their parents. All of these kids navigating campus, meeting as many people as possible, making connections, and then HEYYYYY mom pops around the corner.
For example. One morning on campus, I walked alongside my precious daughter in complete silence, aware that my mere breathing was an imposition. And yet two hours later, her panicked eyes searched mine, “Mom, can you help me with scheduling these classes?!”
Maybe some parents attend college orientations in bliss with happy, happy children who want them right by their side. In our case, orientation has been both really fun but also intensifies the push/ pull that really is so real. Wait – you’re going to sit with other students instead of me in these sessions? You want to hang out with brand-new friends while I go back to the hotel by myself? Ok… ok…
This push/ pull is no joke, and typically starts way before college orientation. I start really noticing the tremors summer before senior year of high school. A push for independence – “advice please only when asked” – and then a pulling in because after all, at times, they still absolutely need our money help.
I first became aware of this phenomenon when my younger brothers graduated high school and left for college (which means, of course, that I most definitely did not see it in MYSELF). My mom navigated the transitions with the intellect and training of an educational child specialist who knew all the terminology of developmental phases. And yet the push was STILL emotionally hard on her. I remember mom saying, “This is the goal. I don’t want my children nestling down into our home, afraid to go into the world. They have to push away from me to make their way. This is best case scenario.”
Fellow mommas of college-age kiddos…when these almost-adult-children moving on to college bristle at our words, roll their eyes, or take offense that our well-intended compliment is somehow received as a nagging criticism, it actually means we’ve done our jobs.
Our NEXT job is be an adult and not take it personally (y’all know that when I write, I write to myself).
And this is probably the first time I’m level-headed enough to write about it, the first time I’ve been proactive to know it’s coming, and that’s only because it’s my fourth time around the block. It’s taken me this long to really appreciate (and try not to take personally) the push/ pull that comes from a young adult child transitioning from high school to college.
Dwellings blog recently posted an excellent three-part series of essays on Transitions written by Jack Meckfessel. I loved these so much that I forwarded it to a handful of friends and actually printed out the chart he included:
Meckfessel goes into detail about these stages in his essay, and I found it so helpful to have some words, a language, to frame what we are experiencing (thank you, Jack!!). And in turn, to give each other space to move through these stages with empathy and patience.
Esther isn’t the only Wilson going through a transition.
I have just stepped down from a job I love at Southwest Christian School. For the past five years I’ve shared those hallways with students, teachers, co-workers and Fort Worth families looking at schools. I’m excited to about having more flexibility for chasing my young adult kiddos around and having time for some other pursuits, but I cannot even imagine how much I will miss my friends. And the office chats. And learning new things on a regular basis. And greeting literally hundreds of kids in the hallways daily. Stepping away from this Admission role is good in many ways, but it feels bittersweet and even a little unsettling.
AND we’re entering empty nest. Corbin and I will celebrate twenty-eight years of marriage this August, and the last twenty-five of those have been in the trenches of raising children. What an absolute gift and privilege. But wowzers what a free-falling feeling, looking into our first fall that’s not prioritized around a school calendar.
Our second son, Hudson, is in the midst of major transition. Having just graduated Auburn in May, he is working his fourth summer on the dock at Kanakuk’s K2, and is figuring out his next plan. He’s feeling the weight of options going forward, and Corbin and I are feeling a slight return of that push/ pull – offering help and advice when asked, but he’s a grown man and will ultimately forge his future as he goes. And we trust him. But honestly we could go through every family member right now listing transitions, and that extends to grandparents and cousins and beloved friends.
Looking again at this transition chart and potential responses to different stages, it kind of makes me want to wave a white flag and just hold an open hand to what’s ahead – for all of us. Corbin and I spent two days last week feeling the effects of an argument, an argument about something fairly insignificant, and a quick glance at this chart confirmed my responses – hello “exaggerated problems” and “misunderstanding” and “self centered.” Welp.
So much good ahead. So much joy and laughter and deep-heart gratitude in these moments of change. And I’m hopeful to give myself AND my kiddos (and Corbin!) generous grace as we navigate change.
I am – literally – praying daily for an increased sense of humor. For a lightness that accompanies the messiness. And with the button-pushing award having already been conquered, I can’t wait to see my next grand champion role.
Lord – help us navigate our emotions and responses through these transitions that YOU are allowing to basically bring us closer to you. Thank you for encouragement, tools, and sometimes just a good heart-to-heart with other parents. Thank you for our precious kiddos that we get to live life with, whether under our roofs or across the country. We are thankful for SO MUCH GOOD ahead and trusting you for grace to live with each other in an understanding way and do it well!