J.D. Rothman's Blog

Check out the new post about inconvenient, costly holiday travel for your kids.

http://theneuroticparent.com/

Announcing the amicable divorce of the Neurotic Parent and typepad.

Thanks to the exporting skills of www.fabulousbloggin.com You can find the same blog on www.theneuroticparent.com. If you have trouble remembering that, you can also try www.neuroticparent.com 

The design will morph slightly, but the anxiety level will remain the same. See you over there!

Announcing the amicable divorce of the Neurotic Parent and typepad.

Thanks to the exporting skills of www.fabulousblogging.com You can find the same blog on www.theneuroticparent.com or www.neuroticparent.com 

The design will morph slightly, but the anxiety level will remain the same. See you over there!

Overheard at the Farmers Market, on the plane, and at Parents Weekend events at various colleges:

1. "We had to find an independent college counselor because ours has never heard of Gallatin and thought that Amherst is test optional."

2. "We know a family that sought out a SAT tutor who was also a tennis pro, so their son could practice vocab while on the court ($1000 a session)."

3. Hottest safety: Northeastern - Their co-op program ensures you'll actually get a cool job. Only problem is that it's not a safety anymore.

4. Hottest new career aspiration: "My older child is working for a fully-funded start-up, but I don't really understand what they do."

5. Top new admissions theory: "This will be the easiest year for full-pay kids."

6. Crescendo-ing neurosis: "Darn...My child doesn't have a chance of getting a job with a liberal arts degree and she wants to study Classics at Princeton."  (But poetry awards while still in high school are acceptable, especially if the poetry is about Quantum Physics.)

7. Hottest after-hours locale for touring west coast high schoolers: Bushwick

8. Hottest new extracurricular, the ultimate for resume padding: TedXYouth 

9. "I think my daughter is the only one in her senior class who is not blogging for the Huffington Post.""I think my son is only one in his senior class whose chorus has not performed in Latvia."

10. "I interview for Brown; I feel bad about myself because my own resume at age 52 is nothing compared to the resumes of the kids I evaluate."

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So, parents, if we haven't given Ted Talks or performed in Latvia by the time we're 50, it's time to admit we're failures. Instead we can now listen to the wisdom of our nation's 17-year olds, who of course, are sharing their expertise for the good of the world, not so they can get into college.

Somebody has finally noticed that I don't have an IT person.  Site renovation in progress, but until then, here are some Qs I just received from a reader, along with my answers:

Q: Could it be only me or does it look as if like some of the responses (on this site) appear like left by brain dead individuals? :-P

A: Worse - I think they're brain dead robots.  I'm sure it's because I dissed robotics at some point.

Q: And, if you are writing on other online social sites, I'd like to follow everything fresh you have to post. Could you make a list of all of your public sites like your linkedin profile, Facebook page or twitter feed?

A: Facebook: The Neurotic Parent

Twitter: neurotic_parent

Huffington Post: J.D. Rothman

Instagram: rothmanjd

Meanwhile, please excuse our dust.

As students drop their 10:45am classes because they are too early, the parents they left behind are rearranging their schedules as well.  Here are some panicked queries we have received from readers:

Q: I'm finding I suddenly have some time on my hands. What are some good films that have come out in the last 19 years that I might have missed while I was parenting?

A: Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you are a little out of the loop.  Nobody watches films any more. Episodes are the way to go.  The first mandatory assignment is to make sure you're up to date on House of Cards, Orange is the new Black, the Newsroom and, of course, two seasons of Homeland.  Then you can advance to four seasons of Breaking Bad.  And you might have to pull a month of all-nighters to catch up on seven seasons of Madmen, but it will be worth it to be able to once again converse with your peers about something other than carpool rules.  I suggest avoiding all dinner parties until you've completed these prerequisites. 

Q: So you're saying that most parents of new college students are spending all their time screening full seasons of missed t.v. shows?  At a time when they're supposed to be rekindling their romances and traveling the world?

A: Empty nesters do not need travel or romance. They are just happy to sleep through the night.  When they had teens at home, they were so exhausted from waiting up that they were unable to stay awake through a single episode of an hour-long drama.  Now they have the stamina to screen an entire season at one screening.  Makes them feel young.

Q: What if I become so immersed in t.v. reruns that I become shallow and boring? 

A: If you've spent the last two decades parenting, it's a little late for that. Complaining about your kids' teachers and coaches and angsting about ACT scores has already made most parents insufferably dull and boring.  Just a few hours of binge watching can reverse that condition and, after thirteen episodes, you might even become socially presentable again.  

And the best news is that with your kids gone, you might even be able to find the remote.  Good luck with the BWS.

When the Neurotic Parent gets overwhelmed with decluttering and finding a job for all her friend's kids, there is nothing like the Onion for tips to share with readers:

http://www.theonion.com/articles/the-...

How to survive the unbearable separation anxiety when the kids leave for college? Many parents, suddenly feeling obsolete and arthritic, move to farms in Oregon, attend yoga retreats in India, become fanatic cyclists, design outdoor living rooms, organize the old shinguard collection, or even foster a teen. Here are some other suggestions in all budget ranges:

1. Cleanse. You no longer will be tempted by the ubiquitous leftover pizza crusts.

2. Invest in a pied-a-terre in a cool college town...which just happens to be the one where your kid goes to school.

3. Adopt a puppy. Name it after your son or daughter. How sweet it will be when Virgil comes home for Thanksgiving and finds a furry little Virgil in the house, one that obeys curfew and is always fast asleep by 9 p.m.?

4. Stalk your children on Instagram. (They all ditched Facebook when it became overpopulated by boomers.) If you don't "like" any of their photos, they'll never know that you're tracking how often they're holding Solo cups.

5. Get rid of those age spots with a laser treatment. No potlucks or carpools, so you can finally hide out while you recover.

6. Revive your relationship by indulging in a couple's ionic foot bath.

7. Because every penny is now going to educate your child, you probably don't have funds for much of the above - or anything else. So find an affordable sport or hobby, taking advantage of all that expensive equipment you bought for the many activities your child quit after several months. Try French horn lessons, skateboarding, lacrosse, or building a robot.

8. Take risks. Become a senior triathlete or set the loftiest goal of them all: Inbox Zero. Start with the 21,589 e-mails in your old AOL account.

9. Continue micro-managing your children. Be available 24/7 to edit essays, book flights, replace lost iPhones, provide laundry instructions, and secure internships that will one day help them be rid of you forever.

10. Remember, you might be in a catatonic state, but they're having the time of their lives. They're joining squirrel clubs, celebrating Nitrogen Day, and running the Naked Mile.