I have spent a lot of time at kitchen tables in the last two months.
Post surgery, with my right leg in a hip-to-ankle brace and unable to drive, my glorious friends took mercy on me as they allowed me to hold court from their kitchen tables. While cabin fever only spiked a few times, my friends were at the ready, car keys in hand, rushing to rescue me from way too much down time–a curse for the overthinker.
I have spent a lot of time at kitchen tables in the last two months, trading advice for a different view and the occasional grilled cheese. Most of those visits included shared status updates about our baby adults, many of whom have just wrapped up their first year post-graduation.
While our kids have all taken unique paths, a common thread can be found in our stories: balancing the urge to scream out, “THAT’S A TERRIBLE IDEA!” with letting the latest to leave the nest navigate their speedbumps solo. Parenting is tricky. With years of knowledge tucked in our back pockets, we can often (and easily) predict the future when it comes to our children’s questionable decisions.
I feel lucky that I was in learning mode when our last child left the nest. My entry to a career as a travel planner coincided with my kids’ entries into adulthood. As I’ve honed my skills through classes and conversations with other agents, I’ve found advice easily applied to managing both my travelers and my children. Easily applied? Well, maybe not easily. It’s no secret that I have challenges relinquishing control.
In the land of travel, I have been advised numerous times that, at some point, client’s do have to take control of their own vacation.
At some point, the mantra goes, their vacation becomes their vacation.
This is not a phrase meant to slight anyone–it is simply a statement of fact tossed from one travel planner to another when the first becomes bogged down when overplanning for a client that needs a bit more hand-holding. Needy clients aren’t a bother. For many of us, our more needy clients are our favorite as we can really tap into our travel planning talents. Still, at some point, the reins need to be let out as our involvement decreases and responsibility shifts to the traveler.
I am learning that the same is true when raising children.
At some point, their life becomes their life.
Just as I cannot travel side-by-side with my clients to make sure they are having the best time ever, we cannot traverse our children’s lives to make sure they are succeeding at every stop. I have to trust that my clients will arrive at the airport on time, remember to make dining reservations, avoid overdoing it, and solve basic problems on their own. I have to trust that my children will arrive at work on time, eat halfway decently, avoid all-nighters, and solve basic problems on their own.
We live in a tricky era as children are not fleeing the nest as confidently as we did. Confidently? Maybe comfortably. Our children live in an age in which they are provided with nearly anything they desire. They have access to everything. While I may have gotten one new pair of shoes per year (but only if my toes were getting scrunched–fashion was irrelevant), my kids have a dozen options to choose from each day. While I had to trudge uphill both ways though four feet of snow to my college dining hall, my kids simply open an app and dinner appears at their door within the hour.
Our eldest child is setting up her first apartment and is discovering just how much “adulting” adulting requires. It is an exciting time for her but not without challenges and loose ends. As parents who have been through the process numerous times, it is easy to predict which balls will be dropped and what the consequences might be. We have gotten better at biting our tongues even as she steers herself in exactly the wrong direction.
She doesn’t want our input. Her life has become her life. Her life has become her life and her third parent, Google, is the only one she’d like input from though that may be engaged in the same way my husband’s selective hearing is.
At some point, their vacation becomes their vacation.
Trusting that I’ve passed on enough knowledge for epic adventures is as tricky as balancing freedom with a safety net.
At some point, their life becomes their life.