It’s been one week since we took the boy to college. As smoothly as things could go, they went. There was no sobbing or carrying on, no hiding in bushes outside his dorm room, no offering cash rewards to just keep his stuff in the car and rethink this whole higher education plan, no mommy meltdown whatsoever. In fact, I was so completely underwhelmed by my emotional response to the change I had been anticipating all year that I started to get a little worked up about that. The truth of the matter is that he was happy so I was happy. Plain but beautifully, perfectly, blessedly simple.

On the road. They made it hard to get too emotional.

The not so simple part is that dropping him off and setting him up was infinitely easier than coming home without him.  Life without his particular brand of noise, without his familiar step on the stairs, without his essential “him”ness is good but a little lonely. Being the one left behind is not nearly so fun as the one embarking on a great life adventure.

We are all not quite comfortable yet in our new world without him, but stretching to fit into the space he left behind has left us all, especially me, feeling a little raw and vulnerable. I am an exposed nerve bouncing through the familiar routine of school, sports practices, meal prep, and homework. On the surface, I am rocking my back-to-school this year, but just beneath I am taut and edgy, uncertain of what will break my heart next. Blue hooded sweatshirt, I’m looking at you!

In many ways, this emotional ride is a familiar one. Sending a kid to college doesn’t feel that different from bringing one home from the hospital: there’s incredible joy and immense pride, but also a sense of loss for the life I had before. Only this time it’s missing him with us daily in an easy, familiar way.  Moving him out of our home and into a dorm room and all the possibilities that come with that has crossed me over a threshold. I’m parenting across a divide, and as I learn the new skills I’ll need for this phase of mothering, I cannot deny that there is no going back. I feel very much like a new woman, much in the same way I did when he first made me a mom, but with one important difference. Eighteen years ago, I had an adorable baby in my arms and now I just have him in my heart . . . and on my cellphone.

OK. When he sent me his first day of school picture, I might have gotten a little choked up.

Warning: college causes moms to get sappy. In any case, I feel like all new college moms should wear a little sign that reads “Handle with Care.” New moms are obvious with their sweet bundles in their arms, stained shirts, and bags hanging off their shoulders, but we older moms have similar needs, though they are a little more hidden. So I thought of some things my friends have done and are actively doing for me that are keeping me in the land of the happy and functional. If you have a new “Mom with a Kid in College” friend in your life, listen up.

1. Call her.

My friends have been so great about the check-in phone call, I almost forgot that we are not a group of friends who chat on the phone often. Our texts are usually sufficient to keep us all afloat emotionally but this is dangerous new terrain. My friends have intuited this and responded with the kind of life support I needed. So even if you are just calling to ask if it’s crazy to have so many school supplies or to ask how soon is too soon to have Junior tested for Gifted and Talented, pick up the phone. Even crazy distractions are welcome ones. The house still feels really quiet in these first few weeks, so fill it up for her a little, even with your crazy helicopter-momming worries.

2. Give her a safe space.

It wasn’t the drop-off that killed me but the coming home without him in it. I’m now living in a house of landmines. The pantry is where we keep the sacred Sour Patch Kids but also his favorite golden double stuff Oreos. Now my simple sugar grab is dangerous to my heart as well as my waistline. Let your friend tear up about the sock left behind, his magazine that came in the mail, that darn sweatshirt still hanging in the closet. We know these are good, happy problems to have, but letting go is just as hard as we knew it was going to be.

3. Distract her.

Take her for a walk or to a ballgame. Fill up some empty hours with something fun. Then take a funny selfie with her so she can laugh before, during, and after the game.

The faces of the guys behind us kill me.

4. Don’t mock.

It’s never too soon for care packages. Just nod your head and agree.

For the record, I only made the Shutterfly book because he didn’t take a single picture with him.

5. Throw her a party.

Or at least invite her to one. Or let her throw one at your house. In any case, give her a chance to celebrate this big step.

Ellen let us have a little going away party at her pool. It was the perfect way to spend our night before we drove him to college and started this new life for all of us.

In short, treat us a little more gently for awhile. We don’t need kid gloves so much as your shoulder and your ear. Oh, and be ready with a handkerchief because it’s a universal truth that when our hearts are this full to bursting, sometimes our eyes will leak.

-Erin

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