Parenting is one long goodbye. The college app process brings all the layers of this fact, culminating all the years of tiny practice goodbyes, front and center. When my firstborn was six weeks old, I cried because she had outgrown her newborn clothes. When she was eight and declared sheepishly that she wanted to be cool - and according to Cooper, the popular kid, leggings were cool - I began to grieve a little for her and me. For some reason, this felt like a distancing, the first awakening to my child being part of a bigger world, a soup of opinions and perspectives beyond my influence. It sparked a realization that my children would strive for acceptance from groups of people I wouldn't curate for them and that they would sometimes experience rejection and hurt. I said a micro goodbye to my perception as a mother when my middle child told me I didn't understand him before going upstairs, each of his steps landing with the weight of a universe. When my youngest stopped wanting me to read to him, one night, I was snuggling next to him with a book above our reclined, giggling heads, and the next night, he was too old.
The goodbyes keep rolling in like waves and are even more dramatic between the 7th and 10th grades. Then senior year comes, and we parents are fully open to the reality that began the second our babies were handed to us—no matter what age. We face the stark reality that these people we've poured our full, liquid hearts into will leave.
The problem is that our children need us - to some extent - even as they are pushing us away. Well, it's not a problem because pushing us away is part of their process. Still, there are things they go through, dangers from which they need protecting, and cautionary tale wisdom that could be useful in their decision-making moments. A teenager's insistence on figuring things out on their own makes helping them with college applications or gap years or planning for whatever they want to do next nearly impossible. And sometimes, what is perfectly normal developmentally carries a cost. Sometimes, it's appropriate to let them fail, not to remind them to grab their Barbie doll at the restaurant*, not to intervene when they miss a deadline or choose not to study for their French test. At other times, we decided the cost was too great NOT to intervene. These quandaries have no clear answers. We do the best we can. Sometimes, the best we can do is ask for help.
No matter how close or safe a child feels with her parents or guardians, it's normal for her to pull away and resist guidance or advice. In my house, at times, even the slightest hint of a cautionary tale from me is met with feigned listening, slight annoyance, and outright dismissal. It can make you feel useless and obsolete to the child who once needed you to check the closet at night or to feel the temperature of their forehead with your lips. It's maddening and heartbreaking, but know that you aren't alone...and yet, you are alone to figure out the balance of stepping in and forcing action or holding back and allowing natural consequence to do the teaching - which, as we all know, is the best teacher.
So how, as parents, do we establish some agency in this college prep process that we sometimes feel systematically shut out of because of the strong rip current of our children's need for autonomy? No matter how much help you get from someone like me or from your child's high school college counselor, you do need to have some input on the who, what, when, where, and how. Not only because you are paying the bills but also because you have witnessed your child's unfolding and are uniquely equipped to offer feedback along the way. And because you've lived a few more years than your kiddo and probably made many of the same mistakes your kid is at risk of making, which is part of why we desperately want to intervene. If you're like me, you probably try to offer your opinions subtly, like you don't care - like an aloof ninja parent, but those teenagers who live with us know us so well. They are onto us just as much as we are onto them.
Although I don't have magic, full-proof answers, I do have some decent ideas that I think are useful when broaching topics that our children are resistant to or have historically created one of those conflictual moments that leaves everyone wondering what just happened. Laying a foundation for teenagers to tolerate a discussion about college or future planning should ideally start younger than their junior or senior year. But whenever you begin, set up a goal-setting or long-range planning evening, team huddle, or simply COLLEGE PREP DATE once or twice a month. Depending on the timing, you may need a once-a-week date night with their favorite meal, a Saturday morning trip to a coffee shop, a walk around the block, or a "gentle" game of basketball. Whatever works for you and your child. Unless your child can't get enough of talking about his future with you, make that time the only time you talk about ideas about their life and future and approach it like a co-creative conversation, not an "I'm the parent, and I know everything dump." For one, we don't know everything, and because we were kids once, we know how demeaning and limiting that approach feels.
Ok, so to recap, here are some guidelines for establishing regular check-ins:
1. Depending on your child's age, set up a purposeful, once-a-month, biweekly, or weekly chat geared toward future planning.
2. Decide what your purpose is. Again, purpose, goals, and urgency will depend on how old your kids are and how much time you have before your child's lack of decision-making will have consequences they might not like.
3. Approach the meetings like conversations, not lectures. Think of your time as Co-creating a vision for your child's short-term and long-term future.
4. Ask respectful and thoughtful questions - some specific, some broad—and experiment with what types of questions elicit a more meaningful, less defensive response. Guide the conversation, but do more listening and asking than telling. Often, I find myself giving random bits of advice; it's out of my fear and anxiety. Check-in with that anxiety before the meeting date so that you are aware of what you could potentially leak into the conversations. It's better to be upfront about it.
5. Remember, it's not your life. You are not parenting a mini-you. It's freeing to embrace this truth.
6. Stick to your commitment to keep these conversations in the sacred container of your "dates." Don't sabotage a perfectly peaceful ride to school or catch them off guard just when they've settled into a video game or an episode of their favorite Netflix show. Or, after they come home from a social outing, you can tell they are already emotionally dysregulated.
7. Generate an action item or to-do list at the end of the date/meeting.
8. Create an incentive that you both enjoy—not just throwing peanuts at the elephants. Your kids will enjoy the time more if they see you are genuinely delighting in their company or at least genuinely enjoying the cup of tea and chocolate you share.
Let's chat if this discussion resonates with you or if you have questions. Book a time on my calendar for 30-minutes for free. I love to talk about this stuff, listen, and offer advice and encouragement even if your kiddo doesn't end up working with me.
And by the way, I did knowingly "allow" my daughter to leave her Barbie doll in the booth of a restaurant. I wanted to teach her to gather her things when she leaves a place, and it may have had something to do with my ambivalence about her playing with Barbie.
Parenting is one long journey of triumphs, mess-ups, clear answers, and walking in the dark with a headlamp kind of clarity. But we press on, trying like hell to do better when we mess up, find our way, and help our kids to do the same. We take small steps, little by little, to maintain our sanity and help our kids face the crossroads and decisions in front of them. We might even be surprised by joy in the midst of it all.
SIDE NOTE: If you find yourself on this newly reoriented Water Leaf Blog wondering where my more personal essay/poetry/story writing will be, check out my Substack account and share this blog with friends who have 9-12th graders!
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