Home for the Summer

Remembering with humor and a little bit of longing, our kids' first summer home from college.

“Give them wings so they can fly” they said.

“Give them roots so they’ll return to you” they said.

So we did.

Last fall, our three oldest children spread their wings wide and flew away from home, all in the separate directions of their dreams. All for the first time and all within months of each other.

This summer, after living on their own, exactly as the wisdom predicted, they returned to our home and their roots for the summer.

OK, not exactly as the wisdom predicted.

As with most life advice that can fit on a prefab 8-by-10 canvas on the clearance rack at Home Goods (think: LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE and FAMILY IS FOREVER), there is never enough guidance included to support the pithy sentiment. Such is the case in the simple “Wings and Roots” credo.

My first case in point: Nobody ever prophesied with teary eyes and a heart full of love, “Give them wings so they can fly and give them roots so they’ll return to you and your tiny house with two mini fridges, a microwave oven, a dorm fan, three overflowing shower caddies, a giant pink bean bag chair and 150 garbage bags bursting with clothes.”

Nobody told me that in nine short months of being on her own, a child of mine could learn to surf the waves of the Pacific Ocean, ace every final exam, develop a recipe for perfect hollandaise sauce and still not remember to replace the empty toilet paper roll on the bathroom dispenser.

As the world opened up after COVID, three of our kids went off to college. In fall of 2021 they left home wide-eyed teenagers, nervous and excited about their futures, still honing their driving skills, not old enough to drink or buy lottery tickets.

Less than a year later, they returned to us seasoned young adults, independent, self-sufficient, responsible.

Sort of.

As parenting goes, I have found myself in unfamiliar situations a thousand times over the past 21 years. I’ve been adept at rolling with the punches and learning as I go and it helps that my parenting partner, Bob, has been down this road before.

But this summer feels different. Less like unfamiliar territory and more like living in a wild mashup of Friends, The Twilight Zone and Modern Family. Not just unfamiliar territory, but rather a completely new, fun, funny, bewildering, bemusing and amusing life phase.

A life phase where your independent young-adult children are less like children and more like great roommates. Great non-rent-paying roommates.

It’s been a time where I recognize for the first time the unique and individual passions, talents and skills that will lead our kids into successful and happy adulthoods as artists, tech gurus, world-savers.

But I still see so clearly all the things that I loved in them as 2-, 3-, 4- and 5-year-olds.

First day of school 2005

Recently, on the same day one child spent hours learning about a new exhibit at a local art museum, she spent a fair amount of time creating an intricate “Hi Mom” with a heart message on our shower wall using a single strand of her long hair. I know it took her a fair amount of time because I was the one waiting to use the shower next.

One technologically savvy kid who solves all our computer problems, installs and maintains all our electronics and recently hung and programmed a new smart TV in a matter of 15 minutes is the same kid who, for no apparent reason, changed our network name to mickisawesome this week, requiring all of us to text him at various hours of the day requesting a “smart” password that only he has memorized.

And then there is our young person with the lifelong love of animals. Her passion became evident when she used my toothbrush to remove the tartar from our cat’s teeth. Had it not been for the fact that my toothbrush was sitting on the kitchen counter next to a tube of Advanced Oral Care Pet Toothpaste, peanut flavor, I might not have known this. I appreciate our daughter’s commitment to our cat’s dental health, but I also think the cat should have his own toothbrush.

Yes, wings to fly and roots to come home to are wonderful concepts. But they don’t address curfews for young people who’ve lived on their own for nine months. Or chores or car-sharing or grocery shopping or meal preparation.

Wings and roots don’t address the fact that that your hallway bathroom has been transformed into an unregulated, unlicensed stick-and-poke tattoo parlor for your 19-year-old and her friends.

All new territory. All bemusing. And amusing. And I don’t have answers or advice to address any of it.

So, like I’ve done before in my life as a parent, I will roll with the punches and enjoy the surprises that come with this new phase. I know it will pass too quickly.

Summers home will turn into week-long visits.

Mini-fridges and bean bag chairs will turn into fully furnished apartments to be returned to rather than brought home to be stored in our driveway.

Our shower won’t always be adorned with our daughter’s bright red hair and creativity.

Serious jobs will replace sleeping in until noon.

Our kids will learn to replace the toilet paper and eventually, some of their dreams, maybe lots of them, will become reality.

In the meantime, I will embrace this precious and lovely in-between. This summer has been a short and sweet bridge where I can see clearly who my children were and who they will be. It is a view that spans 21 years and four young lives and even though I know that I can’t hold on to every memory, I will never forget how beautiful this view is today.

And for now, I won’t sleep peacefully until the last kid returns safely at the end of the night, peeks in our room and says, “I’m home.”

Evidence that they do grow up and dreams do come true