Not to brag, but I made it all the way to almost October before I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s nearly six weeks since the new collegiate school year started – six weeks in which I’ve been casually locked into the parents’ Facebook group for my youngest’s university.
Six weeks in which I’ve resisted the urge to throw on the ALL CAPS button before responding, “WHICH ONE OF YOU IS IN COLLEGE??”
Over-parenting is not a 2025 invention but, dear Lord, I remain in awe of the crises that some parents are able to create at the exact moment they should be encouraging their kids to self-solve. While reading through some of these plea-filled posts I often think, well, yeah…I can see why you posted that anonymously. I wouldn’t want anyone to know that I’ve double knotted those apron strings, either.
I often think back to the elementary school teacher who pleaded with parents to ask “What should you do?” rather than immediately reaching out to a teacher or coach or relative or the parent of a friend (etc) to serve as the hero that saved a child from problem-solving.
I do understand the angst of nudging our little birdies from the nest, but isn’t college the exact time when those little birdies should start problem-solving on their own? Okay, actually, no. That time was in the years prior, when those little birdies slept under our roofs and errant paths could more easily be rerouted so that those little birdies could leave the next with a toolbox full of life skills.
I know I’m armchair parenting, but being on call 24/7 to rescue our children is not actually helping our children at all. Instead, it is a gateway to young adults who bring their parents along on job interviews or who still need help with laundry well into their thirties. It also stalls the natural process of parents embracing the glorious life found after those tumultuous child-raising years have come to an end.
No, I know.
Parenting never really ends, but there should be an eventual shift from parenting to partnering.
While I may have resisted the urge to respond to the over-parenting inquiries related to my own child’s fellow students, I did not resist the urge to pull some favorites across several university parenting groups. I also did not resist the urge to share them below because, honestly, they are a good read. It seems no matter which group I snuck into, the tenor was mostly the same:
“My child’s suitemates will all be going home for the fall holiday, but she wants to stay. I’m concerned that she will be lonely without anything to do. Are there activities offered? Are the dining halls even open?”
“How can my business major find information on studying abroad? Should he go to the study abroad office?”
“If my kid did not get a bid to a fraternity, how will they find out where parties are being held? I feel like there will be no opportunities to have fun.”
“Does the dining hall offer take-out? Like if your kid doesn’t want to eat with other people or have food delivered by a robot?”
“My child has a cold. How can I get cold medicine for them? Is there a CVS near campus that delivers? I know we pay for the health center but I don’t think they should be walking all over campus.”
“Are there any clubs where everyone gets in? My child did not get into the Greek life program, and I want to make sure they can get into something.”
“I know first-years cannot have a car on campus but we wanted ours to have one. Where are they supposed to park without immediately getting a ticket?”
“My child got into the exact sorority she wanted, but now what? How is she supposed to get to know the 42 others in her pledge class? What is the process?”
“I know move-in is chaotic, but I was shocked that my child did not get any one-on-one time with their RA. Aren’t they being paid to make sure students are comfortable and having a great dorm experience?”
“My student wants to know when the best time is to go to the rec center and work out. They say it’s impossible to find a time when the good equipment is available. Should we pay for an off-campus gym?”
“Where are students supposed to print mandatory assignments? Mine just spent $2.50 on a few pages – it’s already adding up.”
“My child is already homesick as the dorms are not cozy, the food is weird, and there are too many people. Maybe this wasn’t the right choice.”
“My son is bored. His roommate is never around. Any ideas?”
“My child didn’t do well last year because he played video games rather than completing assignments. Hoping this semester is better but not sure how to encourage him to go to class.”
“My daughter spent the entire first weekend off campus going to parties. What are acceptable boundaries?”
“Can I get a portable AC delivered to my child’s dorm? They are having a hard time sleeping because it’s hot, and I want to make sure they’re comfortable.”
So, what should you do? As a parent, nothing beyond listening, offering a reasonable amount of empath, and volleying that question straight to your child, “Well, what do you think you should do?”
What should you do? You should let your child figure it out.
You should also turn off your Life360, FindMy, or any other Monitor-My-Child apps until the addictive urge to click on them endlessly is gone.
You should gently relinquish the safety net and retire from your role as the Fixer of All Things.
You should trust that you have done your absolute best in raising an independent human who will find success while navigating life as a young adult.
You should trust yourself and your child.
In fairness, I am a recovering obsessed parent.
With my first child, it was all eyes, ears and hands on deck as I checked locations, scanned texts, contacted teachers, filled out paperwork, and made appointments. I think it drove my husband more bananas than my kid and it really drove kid crazy. Looking back, I can see why. I gave her zero space to make mistakes, solve them, learn from them, and move on. I gave her zero space to experience those natural consequences that serve as an essential foundation for building life skills. I gave her zero space to breathe and just be.
When I finally did cut the apron strings (or my husband did), it was bliss. Okay, maybe not immediately, but eventually.
With our second child, the pendulum has (mostly) gone the other direction.
At 19, he is far more confident in managing his own life than our first child was at the same age. Does he stumble on occasion? Dear God, yes. Do I still have to swoop in for the hero shot now and then? Also yes. Would he be fine if I didn’t? Again, yes, but sometimes…
Sometimes I do have to remind him that I’m still here, ready to lend a hand if needed (or not) but, most times, I retreat to that lesson teed up a decade ago in elementary school and simply ask, “What should you do?”