The mom in this photo is definitely not wondering how she’ll put up with her husband’s snoring.

Our son just left for his junior year of college, which seems outrageous and impossible. It occurred to me that I might learned a few things over the last two years of empty nesting. Here they are, in no particular order.

1. The nest won’t be empty forever. Probably.

Depending on things like the distance of their college from home, location of summer internships, or the state of the economy, kids come back for winter break, holidays, summers, and maybe even after graduation. That’s why I, like many others, think we need an alternate phrase for “empty nest.” Author Gretchen Rubin suggests the metaphor “open door,” which I like, although I’m not sure what phrase would replace “empty nester.” She Who Keeps the Door Open doesn’t have quite the same punch.

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2. But that doesn’t mean it gets any easier when they leave.

I didn’t cry when we said goodbye to our son at freshman orientation two years ago. I was fine, more or less, when we moved him into his room for his sophomore year. This year, C had to return to school two weeks before the start of classes for freshman-orientation-week advisor training. “You don’t both need to come,” he told us, and since my husband was handling the logistics of shipping C’s car, he took on the back-to-school trip, and I was relegated to hugging them goodbye at the airport. It was all very mature and logical. I STILL FEEL SAD, and I still miss C terribly. Author Whitney Fleming calls this “momancholy.” Yup.

3. Families Weekend is optional.

Like many schools, my son’s university offers a “Families Weekend” about a month or so after the start of school. Every year, the parents’ Facebook group (more on this later) bursts with posts from anxious parents asking what they’ll miss if they can’t attend. The answer: nothing.

Families Weekend is a nice opportunity to meet other families, hear some faculty lectures (if that’s your thing), and maybe take in a football tailgate/game. I think it’s the university’s way of buffering empty nesters’ grief and easing you out of your kid’s college experience, an experience that should be for them, not you. You will NOT scar your child for life if you miss Families Weekend. Which brings me to…

4. If you do attend Families Weekend, keep your expectations low.

Or better, keep them nonexistent. Six weeks into the school year, your kid will be busy busy busy with classes, mid-terms, studying, new friends, and activities, which is as it should be. They may not have a lot of time for you. Don’t take it personally. I wrote a post about what happened when I didn’t heed this advice.

5. Mistakes will be made.

And that’s okay. For example, your kid may try to pet a squirrel.

He looks soft and fluffy, but make no mistake, he’s an asshole.6. Yes, you’re buying too much for their freshman dorm room.

Those helpful packing lists provided by other well-meaning parents? Too long. Most schools are within spitting distance of a Target or similar retail outlet, and your kids will probably want to pick out their own decor. If, that is, they’re concerned about decorating at all. My son hung the California state flag on his wall and called it a day. (I can’t even with the trend of over-the-top dorm room decorations right now. This is insane.)

7. Your kid will figure it out, if you let them.

What classes to take. What classes to drop. What clubs to join. Where the post office is. What the post office is. How to advocate for better food in the dining hall. These are all things your young adult will eventually learn to do without your help. Julie Lythcott-Haims, who wrote How to Raise an Adult (which should be required reading for American parents), recently posted 7 Mantras to Help You Curb Over-Parenting on her Substack. READ IT. Don’t be like the parent who asked at our freshman orientation how they’d get access to their college student’s grades. Bless the dean who gave them a very diplomatic answer.

8. When they tell you, “I’ll figure it out,” believe them.

IMHO, my son waited way too long to lock down a summer internship. (The key word there is “IMHO.”) His preferred option was a role at the local university where he worked last summer; if that didn’t work out, he was “maybe” going to work at another school in a different state (noooooooooo, I screamed inside my soul). “I’ll figure it out,” he assured me, because he has boundaries. I learned that “I’ll figure out out” are the four words every parent should want to hear, because he did indeed figure it out.

A wise friend told me that when you jump in to “help” your kids with something, you send the message that they’re not competent enough to handle it, and that’s why we get news articles about parents accompanying their adult children to job interviews. (My son would call Security on me if I tried to do that.)

I’m not saying you shouldn’t be standing by to answer questions or explain how to fill out a tax form, because then you’d miss the gratifying moment when your kid asks you if adulthood is just filling out paperwork. Yes, my son. Yes, it is.

Welcome to adulthood, my child. Photo by Rebekah Roy on Unsplash9. Find something (a hobby, a job, a calling) to do that isn’t related to parenting.

Your days of Canvas logins and PTA meetings are over. Yay! Now you have great swaths of time that used to be consumed by the eternal question, “What’s for dinner?” Resist the urge spend that time stalking your child on Life360 and Instagram. RESIST. Not to get all woo-woo, but now you get to find out what you like to do. Luckily I had lots to keep me busy even before C started college: writing and editing for clients (I have a marketing writing business), querying literary agents, going to conferences and writing retreats, and revising my novel. I also took my first book research trip, an archaeological tour of the Yucatán. Do stuff you’ve always wanted to do.

10. Beware the parents’ Facebook group (or take it with a boulder of salt).

Chances are there’s a Facebook group for parents of students at your child’s college. This can be a great place to share and get information, and I’m truly moved by the compassion parents show for one another, particularly when someone needs to find medical or mental health resources for their child. However, keep in mind that anything you post in the Facebook group has a very good chance of getting back to your kid. Adjust accordingly.

Remember the rule “Never put something in a text or email or social media post that you wouldn’t want read aloud in a court of law”? In this case, it’s the Court of Gen Z, i.e., your child, who doesn’t want you joining a petition calling for heirloom tomatoes in the dining hall.1 Let the students navigate the on-campus battles, and save your outrage for . Besides, you’ll be too busy with #9, right?

One last thing.

I would have added this as tip #11 but “10 tips” sounds better as a headline: You may hear from your student a lot less than you’d like. I’ve gone from daily updates about our favorite college football team’s recruiting moves and nightly arguments about which streaming show to watch to almost complete radio silence. This isn’t a surprise: it’s the middle of freshman orientation, and as an advisor, my son has no spare time. Sometimes I have to be content with a heart emoji on a texted picture of one of our cats.

Sadly, it’s up to me to manage my withdrawal from having my kid around (I do this with a shit-ton of chocolate). I want him to be secure enough to know that he can live his life and have his college experiences without worrying that his parents are dissolving into puddles of need and expectations back home.

I guess that’s the thing about having an open door: you have to try your best to make sure it opens into a safe haven.

What are some things you’ve done to make the empty nest/open door more bearable? I’d love to hear in the comments.

1

No such petition actually circulated at my son’s university, but dorm food quality is an evergreen topic in the parent Facebook group.