So many milestones, so many moments that stopped us in our tracks. And this one . . . this one is hard to prepare for, no matter how seasoned you think you are. Moving your child to college is a different level of parenting. Because it’s not just helping them get ready for a big day or special event, it’s letting them go do something huge, alone. For months at a time. Whew. The mama in our featured article shares her feelings when she was going through this milestone for the first time. Same, girl. Same.
Check out Just Sayin’ for my words on this bittersweet parenting moment, and keep our Recipes of the Week with you as you do your grocery run so you’ll be set with five amazing dinners this week.
Have a great week! I’ll be back in your inbox Wednesday for some fun Extra, Extra! treats!
No One Told Me Dropping Your Child At College Would Feel Like This
By Janene Dutt
I haven’t written a blog post in nearly a year. But not for lack of material. Honestly, some fairly notable things have occurred during that time.
I could have written about when I lopped off part of my thumb with a mandoline slicer and needed several weeks of medical attention for it to heal. I figure only a true Italian would sacrifice part of a finger so that her family could have perfectly sliced fried eggplant with their spaghetti.
I might have written about how right after what is now referred to as “The Mandoline Incident,” I was diagnosed with skin cancer on my head. I’m totally fine now, by the way. Joke’s on you, squamous cell carcinoma.
Another blog worthy topic I might’ve written about was my oldest child graduating high school. That’s a big event, right? She was accepted to the University of Washington, her first choice school, and our families flew up for her graduation and all was fine.
And then this summer she worked to save money and we talked about the things she would need for school. We bought new bedding for her dorm. And it was exciting and I was fine about everything. We bought storage drawers and a mini fridge. And I was fine. We ordered her textbooks online a few days ago and shipped them to her dorm address. And still, I was fine.
And then yesterday we packed everything into the car, drove the car onto the ferry, and set off for UW in Seattle. We moved her into a clean, bright, nearly brand new dorm building, we had a lovely dinner with her roommate and her super nice family, and it all should have been fine.
But when I hugged my daughter good-bye and watched her walk down the city street, away from us — her family, her protectors — it was like watching her walk straight out of her childhood. And into the unknown. And then I was not fine. So now, I’ll write.
It’s like I’ve been hit with the emotional equivalent of a hurricane. I mean, I figured I’d be sad when she left. You can’t spend every single day of 18 years with someone and then not miss them when they move away. Even if your kid is a pain in the ass. Which mine isn’t, by the way, which probably makes it harder.
And I knew I would feel worry. Because up until now I knew pretty much where my child was at all times. I knew what time she went to bed, what time she woke up, and what she ate for breakfast. Now, overnight, she’s living in a big city and I don’t know if she got enough sleep or what she’s wearing or if she remembered to bring a jacket. The only word I can think of to describe all of this not-knowing is . . . unsettling.
Along with the worry, strangely, is guilt. Second-guessing everything I ever did as a parent. Did I adequately prepare her for the “real” world? Did I scare her too much or not enough? Will she really keep the pepper spray in her backpack? Will she use it if she has to? Why didn’t I make her take a self-defense class? Does she know how to mail a package? Did I ever tell her the post office closes at 5:30?
Anger. I didn’t expect to feel anger. Yes, I am pissed off at the world right now for not preparing me for this. How many pieces of unsolicited advice do we get in our years of parenting? Thousands? At every other milestone I felt inundated with information and opinions. People talk endlessly about how hard it is having a newborn, the sleepless nights, the endless diapers. Breastfeeding, co-sleeping. The toddler tantrums. Picky eater preschoolers, time-outs. Screen time rules, stomach flu, nightmares. The middle school years — hormones, mean girls, bullying. High school — peer pressure, drugs, alcohol, academic stress. Texting and driving. And so on. I mean, you can’t get people to shut up about that stuff.
But when you mention your child is leaving for college, the response has been invariably, “Oh, how exciting!” and that’s pretty much it. Well, now that it’s happened I’m like, “Wait a minute! Why did NOBODY tell me, I mean REALLY tell me, that, THIS, THIS is the milestone that is the absolute hardest parenting time of all?”
Not one single person said, “Oh, your child is leaving for college? I’m so sorry, that totally sucks for you.”
And of COURSE I am happy for her. And of COURSE I am excited for her. And no, I wouldn’t rather her stay home forever. But none of that mitigates the fact that for me, the mom, it does totally suck right now. So I am telling you now, parents of younger children, because no one actually told me. It sucks. You’re welcome.
I read a quote years ago about being a parent that stuck with me, “The days are long, but the years are short.” Man, truer words were never spoken.
People say, “Oh, you’re lucky that she’ll only be an hour away,” which until yesterday, actually gave me comfort. But I quickly realized that it doesn’t matter much if she’s not in her bedroom and she’s an hour away versus she’s not in her bedroom and she’s five hours away. Either way, she’s not in her bedroom. Either way, the house is too quiet.
I keep having this vision in my head of my little girl walking away, toward her building, and in this vision I’m fighting back tears and yelling, “WAIT! Turn around! Please, I’m not done yet. I need more time . . . just a little more time!”
But my time is up and all I can do is hope that I used it well.
And though my heart is heavy and my emotions are muddled, my head is clear, and I do know the truth of the matter. I may need just a little more time…but she doesn’t. She’s strong and she’s smart and she’s beautiful and she’s ready. She’s all yours, world. Please treat her kindly.
RECIPES OF THE WEEK:
What a fun, yummy week of dinners! We’ve got a unique alternative to everyday mac and cheese with our Mac & Parm dish, an Olympics-inspired Parisian dinner of Coq Au Vin, and a Panko Shrimp Salad that will make everyone eat those greens. Enjoy!
Chicken Margherita
Ingredients:
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
Salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, chopped
1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
Balsamic glaze (optional)
Instructions:
Season both sides of the chicken breasts with salt and pepper.
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken breasts to the skillet and cook for about 5-7 minutes on each side, or until the chicken is cooked through and no longer pink in the center. Remove the chicken from the skillet and set aside.
In the same skillet, add the minced garlic and cook for about 30 seconds, until fragrant. Add the cherry tomatoes and cook for another 3-4 minutes, until they start to soften. Stir in the fresh basil leaves and cook for an additional minute. Remove from heat.
Preheat your oven's broiler. Place the cooked chicken breasts on a baking sheet. Top each chicken breast with the tomato basil mixture. Sprinkle shredded mozzarella cheese and grated Parmesan cheese over the top.
Place the baking sheet under the broiler for 2-3 minutes, or until the cheese is melted and bubbly. Remove from the oven and drizzle with balsamic glaze if desired.
Coq Au Vin
Ingredients: