It’s September, and the official back to school time has commenced for most families. And with it, there are a lot of relieved parents to have their kiddos back in the classroom, resuming a regular schedule. I know. I used to be one of these parents. For most of my daughters’ childhood, I was a work from home, stay at home mom, who also wanted to curate meaningful experiences and fun summer activities. I believed that the 2.5 months of summer break was the time for my girls to relax from the busy, scheduled routine of the school year, that too many back-to-back camp weeks were not good for their mental health, and that summer was the best opportunity to refine any “bad” household habits that might have popped up from the previous school year. With those dynamics and beliefs in the backdrop, it meant that summer was the busiest time of the year for me. I was still the caregiver, worker, and household manager like normal, but I was also the activity planner, scheduler, and the maker of all things fun. I was hustling. And I loved this time with my daughters.
And I also loved when they went back to school. With the start of each school year, I felt an inner sense of accomplishment. I would often, literally, pump my fist in the air, with delight when I was walking home after the first day of school drop off. One year, I even posted a picture of my husband and I “jumping for joy” at the beach, while taking a much-needed getaway, sans children, after the school year had started. So, it is an interesting juxtaposition, that I reflect on the feelings I have now, of joy and heartache, but more ache if I am honest, as a parent of college-aged children, saying “goodbye” (again) when the school year starts.
“Launching,” is the theme of this Wondering’s post. In the beginning of October, I will be launching myself as a children’s picture book author. Three of my books in The Life of Charlie and Gigi series will be available; When Someone New Arrives Lullaby, Charlie & Gigi Celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah, and Charlie & Gigi Live in Japan, will make their debut into the world. Each book has a different topic, but they thread together a similar message of approaching differences with kindness and curiosity over judgement. I am so excited! I have wanted to write these books for over 20 years. For the past two years, I have worked tirelessly to get them ready. And I want you to love them. It’s kind of like planning a wedding: You want the day to be magical, you want your guests to enjoy the celebration, it’s the start of something new, you are nervous, excited and hopeful. It’s the same for my book launch. I want a successful launch, I want my readers to enjoy the books, it is the start of my new chapter as an author, and I am nervous, excited, and hopeful.
With the swirls of anticipatory emotion about my book launch, I also realized that at some of my strongest feelings were about launching my daughters off to their next adventures. My older daughter graduated from college in May. The job market is tough for these kids, so we started the summer uncertain of where she would land. We had resolved there was a decent chance she would end up moving back home and continuing to explore job opportunities in our area. I felt a little nervous but mostly happy at the idea of having her home again, even if I knew it was temporary. How fun to have her back at home as a young adult. I fantasized about us cooking dinner together, working out together, and further connecting our already close relationship. But as life would have it, she landed her dream job in July, in her college town, and promptly started her career 8 hours away from me.
My youngest daughter is launching as well, with starting a semester abroad of study in Spain. She moved back home from college in June, and we were immediately off on a celebratory family vacation. When we returned in July, she promptly started working full-time. She knew she would be unable to work abroad, and she wanted to earn as much money as she could while she was home. Translation…I barely saw her. She was there but not there, and when she wasn’t working, she was usually off with friends or hosting friends at the house. I can’t tell you how often I heard, “Mom, this is the last time I will see so and so until next year.” I loved having her home and we had some great family moments this summer, but they were too few, and I wanted more. So, when she asked me to go to Spain with her, and help her settle in, I couldn’t refuse.
It’s September, and the back-to-school time means different things for parents, depending on the stage you are in. I am emotional. I am writing this blog sitting on a plane, just having left “my baby” half a world away from me, for her study abroad semester. I will come home to an exciting book launch soon. And I will also come home to the start of the quiet period: that time when college-aged parents need to readjust to a clean and quiet home, one with no children living in it, and the understanding of its gradual permanence. Now that one daughter has settled into her “real life” far away from me, and the other one is in another country, I must reset once again. Two years into this “empty nesting – free bird” life, and I am still feeling all the feels. I know this is the natural cycle. When the girls were little, I used to say, “I am raising you to leave me. And if I do my job right, you will.” I know these times together, where they are living back home, are fleeting. I am at the end of my window; I may never get another summer with a child living at home, and the thought of that brings me to tears. I want to launch them, but if I could hold on to them a bit longer, I would.