How To Prepare Your College-Bound Kids for a Successful Launch
An excursion into Facebook groups for empty nesters shows many of them could use a hobby, a job, or even a straitjacket.
Part of raising children is knowing when to step back. That comes at different times depending on kids' choices. For us, the transition was marked by our son's arrival at the University of Arizona as a freshman. Anthony would have new responsibilities, and we needed to surrender those tasks to him. If we haven't prepared our son for adulthood over 18 years, we screwed up.
"Mom, I'll do it," Anthony said when his mother started putting away toiletries in his dorm room. He snapped at her again when she looked ready to organize his desk.
"He needs to assert his independence and not be a momma's boy," I told her later. "Especially in front of roommates." One of them arrived with just a buddy to help. I assumed he was toward the tail end of a large family, and his folks were done.
I did intervene when it was clear that Anthony intended to use the floor for storage. On a run to Target to buy the towels he forgot, I grabbed a cheap flat-packed shelving unit.
"Did Mom put you up to this?"
"No, it was my idea. About a week from now, you'll realize you need shelves, and then you'll have to haul this boat anchor here on the bus."
He shrugged his shoulders, then broke out his Leatherman tool and began driving in screws.
That was it. My wife and I took our son for a goodbye breakfast and went home. After that, it was a matter of not doing things. We refrained from compulsive calling, limited texting (except for requested videos of the dog), and didn't offer unsolicited advice. We listened when he reached out to tell us about watching the precociously anti-woke 1994 movie PCU with buddies as an antidote to orientation, the interesting girl who (bummer) wandered off with another guy, and the calendar he set up to track assignments across his classes.
We did help him figure out how to pay for class materials. Overpriced apps have joined textbooks on the must-have list since my day, and the academic sales platforms rival departments of motor vehicles for user friendliness.
Not all parents are so restrained. Modern life features Facebook pages for all sorts of groups, including parents of college students. Being a glutton for punishment, or maybe just entertainment, I joined.
"Are there any dining places open after 8pm?" one parent asked. "My son said there aren't and keeps ordering Uber Eats!! They need to stay open later for kids that eat late."
As often happens, this started a war between the unrepentant helicopter crowd urging that "we all complain" in order to force the college to do something and free-rangers who expect adults to figure out how to work around posted meal hours. My wife and I are in the latter group. Having eaten in one cafeteria and compared the offerings to memories of mystery meat, I'm impressed the food was identifiable. They even offer takeout cartons for students with tricky class schedules and those who insist on eating during nightclub hours.
The parents' Facebook group proves that many empty nesters could use a hobby, a job, or even a straitjacket. OK, perhaps I stirred the pot a bit—it's good fun. But it's important to move on and not hover over kids who we, hopefully, prepared to take care of themselves.
Through homeschooling, martial arts, part-time employment, and encouraging independence, we've made the effort to raise our son for adulthood. So far, Anthony is enjoying calculus, chemistry, and engineering classes. He's fed himself easily, joined a club, hit the gym, and bought a bus ticket to visit friends in another city. He's fine and tells us that most students are thriving. Most families, it seems, take seriously the job of preparing kids for launch.
I think my wife and I prepared ourselves too. I'm taking on more writing assignments and hitting the outdoors with the dog. I'm trying woodcarving (tell me if you want a spoon made from mesquite). My wife fills the hours with a cottage bakeshop (hence my outdoor time) and the demands of her employer's new electronic medical records system, which operates at DMV-level efficiency.
We'll see our kid in person soon enough. Unlike a few less independent classmates, Anthony is content with the occasional phone call; he'll hold off on visiting home until a major holiday. I think we can call this a successful launch.
