Tag Archives: College

When Your College Kid Calls Upset: How to Listen Without Fixing Everything

Posted on by
Reply

Your college kid calls upset. You hear their voice on the phone. And you hear all the other voices in your head. The voices reminding you of how you’re supposed to respond.

Let them vent.
Let them share.
Let them be.
Let them fly.

The voices in your head remind you this is their chance to grow. To learn. That’s it’s okay to hurt. That they will heal and come out stronger, wiser. As you listen, you hear it. You hear their hurt. You hear their frustration. You hear their fear. And oh, do you feel it.

You feel it so very deeply.
And you want to give them advice. You really do.

Because you see the path to feeling better. Faster. Easier. With so much less pain. But you know that easing their pain today, right now, can just create more pain in the future. You know that letting them figure things out now, even though it hurts, might actually help them hurt less later.

And so you bite your tongue. And you fight like heck to hide your own pain.
To sound confident in their ability to figure things out.
To not sound concerned.

And you struggle right along with them because this is not easy. In the moment, their pain is your pain. You hurt with them. Oh, do you ever. And you worry right alongside them.

But you don’t offer advice. And you don’t ask leading questions. And you don’t dig for more hard stuff.

You offer love.
You offer a soft landing place.
You offer “uh huhs” and “oh, that’s hard” and “I’m here for you.”

And then you offer to make homemade chocolate chip cookies even though you simply do not have the time.

Because that is all you can do to make them actually feel better. And then you think, not to them or of them, but to yourself:

Who is making me chocolate chip cookies to help me feel better?

Because this stage of parenting? Honestly? It can be brutal.

He is okay, to be clear. This wasn’t a crisis. Just one of those tough, emotional, figure-it-out moments that comes with being away at college. Having our college-aged kids, especially our freshmen, far away from us, struggling, and not knowing which adults in their life are there to support them, guide them, help them find the answers they need? B.R.U.T.A.L. The letting go here is an incredible act of strength.

Of course I will lean in when I have to.
But I will also let my kiddo fumble a little.
I have to. It is part of this stage. This journey. His journey.

And also? My kiddo wants to. He is in his independent era. We have returned to the “I do” phase. Except now it’s a more complete sentence, not that of a toddler.

It’s: “I got it, Mom.”
I know you do, kiddo. I know you do.

He sent me this text last night:
“Good night. Love you. Thanks for the support (even though I keep denying I need it or want it. When I’m ready I’ll ask for it. Let me know when the cookies are coming.)”

Ooof. That hit hard and heavy in a wonderful way. That’s the whole ache of this stage. Being needed in a whole new way. A quieter way. A farther away way. Not to fix. Not to solve. Just to stay close enough that they know you’re still there.

Sending my warmth and a little oomph to you all this Monday morning.
You are all loved and appreciated, near and far.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Don’t Let a Disability Tell You What You’re Capable Of

Posted on by
Reply

There is no polite way for me to write this post. I’ve actually waited a few days (and months) so I could be “cool, calm, and collected.” Truth? I’m not sure I will ever be entirely cool, calm, and collected about this. This post is for any parent, child, or person who has ever been told they weren’t good enough because they have a disability. Or because they learn differently. Or because they learn more slowly. Do not, I repeat, do not, let anyone tell you that you are not good enough to become what you want to become.

I have four sons. I’m sharing this with permission. One of my sons has severe ADHD, auditory processing and other learning challenges. He was bullied by students and teacher aides alike. In 6th grade, an aide said to him, “You will never go to college or succeed.” Imagine if he had listened?!

Well, he didn’t. Instead, he basically said, “Oh yeah? Watch me.” He is now at a top college, on scholarship, getting good grades, and studying to become a special education teacher. Because he had a few of us rooting for him, pointing out to him the good we saw in him; his strengths, his opportunities. We believed in him until he could for himself.

Another one of my sons has struggled since kindergarten. In 3rd grade, his teacher told him, “We don’t have books at your reading level in this classroom. You’re a big kid now. You need to try harder. Stop being lazy.” Lazy? I told her to look at the facts. To look at everything else he could do; how hard he worked, how hard he was trying to find ways to help himself read! I said, “He is not lazy. He is struggling to read. There is something we are missing. Help.”

Fast forward two years. I asked the elementary school principal for extra support going into middle school. “We don’t proactively add support.” Right…

Middle school was a challenge. His mental health took a hit; his homework, tests, quizzes, you name it, took a hit. A child who used to love learning, who tried so hard, slowly stopped trying. I pushed again for help. And I was asked, “Are you sure you’re not being a helicopter parent? Overbearing? Maybe trying to get him extra help just so he gets A’s? We see that a lot in this town.”

The fact that I stayed polite at that moment?

Honestly, a true Orange Rhino® moment. Because no. That was not it. I said, “He is masking. He is truly struggling. You’re missing it. I need you to trust me.” They didn’t. They kept insisting he needed to try harder.

And now? That child has an IEP because one person finally listened to me. One person took the time to look beyond the struggles to see the strengths. My son has a learning disability, including a form of dyslexia.

And the testing showed it is not mild. Cue the tears. Cue my rage. Cue the heartbreak of knowing I was right and that it took years to get him all of the support he needed. (I had gotten him other support but what he needed most was in school.) But here is what I need people to understand: A child (anyone really) who learns differently should not be written off. Different pace. Different path. Different strengths.

Still capable. Still worthy. Still full of potential. My boys are proof of that. Their struggles have built empathy. Determination. Resilience. Leadership qualities. Yes, I wish parts of their journey had been easier. Of course I do.

And I know they feel the same. But who they have become because they kept going? Because they had to try harder to learn and to (sadly) prove themselves to the world and sometimes to themselves? I would not change who they have become for the world. Who they are in heart, grit, perspective, and character is second to none.

So let me say this loudly: Let’s stop confusing disability with inability. A disability is not a disqualification. And different does not mean less. (argh!) Sending my warmth and a little extra oomph to you all today and always, and an extra amount of love and support to any parent who knows and feels this post all too well.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Dropping My College Kid Off Again: Why Goodbye Still Hurt

Posted on by
Reply

I did not expect to respond the way I did. I thought it would be easy, seamless, but it wasn’t. I mean it was, until I was alone. Then it hit me hard. Since I dropped my son at college in August, I’ve had the privilege of seeing him four times before this past weekend! Granted one of those was the ER visit, and all were quick visits, but still, they were touch points. They were moments to see him, tell him I love him, laugh together, share a meal, care for him, etc.

I left each time feeling okay, so it was easy. I surprised myself each time I left. I didn’t cry, not even a tear. My son was thriving, happy, so I felt happy, good. But yesterday, something hit different and I cried the minute I got in my minivan to drive home. Maybe it was because this time as we drove up to campus – arriving together from our home, he said, “ah, feels good to be back home.” Ouch.

And also, yes. There was so much truth in his statement, and it was a statement he should feel, that I would want him to feel. I so very much want him to feel that the college he chose feels like home. Home *should* feel safe, welcoming, supportive, loving, fun and for my son, his college experience currently feels like home, and that is a mother’s dream come true. But it also hurts, a good hurt because he is good, but a sad one too, you know?

A total grorange moment. Sad because it reminds me of the truth of where we are in life; of the changing season. It reminds me that he now spends more time away from me, than with me. It reminds me that he now is on his own, as he should be, and that our togetherness is just different. Not bad, just different.

It reminds me of all the doubts I still carry about the times we had in our *home*

Did I get it right? (Is there even a right? Yes and no.)
Did I do good? (I did my best and still try, we all do.)
Did I do enough? (I did what I could with what I knew at the time, with what energy I had under the circumstances, at the time.)
Did I create a home that was just as happy to come home to as he feels about college? (I know not a fair comparison, I can’t and won’t compare to college friends!)
Did I create a home that felt safe, loving, welcoming, supportive, and all the good things a home should be? (I sure as heck tried and think I did an okay job. That I feel confident saying.)
Did I show up for him the way I wanted to as a mom? (Yes and no, but when I think of the no, I also think of how I then made changes and that counts. None of us are perfect.)

So yeah, lol a simple drop off yesterday was quite emotional afterwards. Who knew. –>That’s the thing. Big emotions, you never know when they are going to just appear. Gray Happens folks and that’s okay.

We still show up and work through ’em. Let’s be real, we show up because what’s the alternative? It’s one we don’t want. Ignoring the gray bites us in the arse later on, leaves us feeling even heavier, so showing is a good choice, even if it kinda stinks in the moment.

We show up because that’s who we are; because we choose to even though it’s hard. We choose to show up because we are determined to work through the gray – whatever it is, grief, challenges, obstacles, heavy emotions, feeling blech, light emotions, whatever – so we can get to feeling better, lighter.

So yep, I sat there, processing, wondering, questioning, enjoying the sun on my face as I cried softly, college kids walking by no doubt seeing me. Oh well. Eventually I was done:) I started the car and headed to the nearest 7-11 to get a diet coke and peanut m&m’s for my drive home, my go-to comfort foods for the longish drive. They feel like home to me;) A little while into my drive home, I called my kiddo, told him I loved him, how proud I was of him and how happy I am that he feels at home at college.

It was all true, even if the truth also feels a little sad. Grorange. Both/and. When Gray Happens, We Show Up. However you wanna say it. It’s all true. It felt good to talk to him. And no lie, it also felt good to come home to just 3 kids because I miss my oldest and also, 3 kids is easier in some ways! Oh the complexities of life;) How about you? How are you feeling today? Gray and charge-y? Orange and all warm and fuzzy and determined?

Gr—>orange? All of the above?

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if you too are feeling a little off, but also perhaps a little lighter, after spending fall break with your kiddo.

xoxo Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

When the Other Shoe Drops in College: What I Learned as a Parent

Posted on by
Reply

I’m still processing what happened yesterday. The range of emotions I feel is unreal. The event was scary, worrisome. It was also incredible, surreal, beautiful, uplifting, inspiring. It also gave me valuable insight into several things I need to do as a parent that perhaps you all already do but if not, here is your chance.

Okay, here’s what happened. First off, remember how I wrote Saturday that I was waiting for the other shoe to drop for my college freshman?

Well, it dropped. He ended up in the ER yesterday. He is fine. Why? Because of the amazing friends he has met that were raised by some amazing parents that I would love to meet. And because of an amazing school that I need to thank for having a great emergency system. My gratitude runneth over. Last January, my son had a cardiac event. It was scary to witness.

Yesterday morning, my son called to tell me about his night and again, how happy he was. I’m lucky that our relationship is strong enough that I got all the details about the night. Even the ones I didn’t want lol. More on that tomorrow. He sounded fine. We talked about how he was going to find a way to watch football that day. He hounded me for the Verizon password and yada yada. Two hours later he called telling me he didn’t feel well.

He was exhausted. He felt like his heart was racing. I told him to not drink any caffeine that day, but lots of water. To rest. To make sure to wear his apple watch and to check it on occasion but to not worry. That maybe he took his medicine twice by accident – that I’ve done that. It happens. He called an hour later. His heart rate was 165 when he walked. He felt hot.

“Mom did you pack me a thermometer?” Did I pack him a thermometer?

I held back my chuckle and remembered his snarky “you packed too much crap” comment when I moved him in. “Of course sweetie. It’s in your medical kit in your closet.” I said.

“Oh, by the pulse ox and my inhaler?” he asked.

“Yep.” I said, holding all loving sarcasm to myself, not the time;)

“No fever.” he said.

“Okay. Well, covid is going around. Let’s see if you spike a fever. You could be getting sick. Last time you had a cardiac event it was when you were sick. Take it easy. Call me if it gets worse or find a friend and go to the health office.” I said.

Phone rang again. “Mom. My friend and I couldn’t find the health office. My legs are weak. I can’t walk. I’m dizzy.” He said. I could tell he was about to pass out. He was practically slurring his words and barely making sense.

“Ok. Where are you?” I was oddly calm. Oddly friggin’ calm.

“My friend took me back to our dorm. We are in the lobby. He called Public Safety.” he said.

 “Okay. Can you put him on the phone on speaker?” I asked, again, eerily calm. He did. I walked his friend through what he needed to do. How he needed to keep my son awake and upright. How he needed to stay with him but look around and watch for any stranger to help him.

How if he could, to call another friend to come help. He did GREAT. Great. I could tell he was nervous as my son was going in and out. Public safety showed up and drove them to Urgent Care. Urgent care eventually said he needed to go to the ER. Public safety came back and drove them the 5 min drive as Urgent Care said it would be cheaper, faster and he was stable enough. (Not sure about that looking back as his blood pressure was 158/98 when he arrived at the ER….) And then his friend called me saying that he and 4 friends had all forgone watching football and were in the waiting room with him.

Bless those kids. Be still my heart. I just can’t. My son – who struggled to have friends in high school – was surrounded by true friends…in a waiting room…on the kickoff day for football. I have no words. NONE. Parents, good job. You did good. I then had a major debate about whether or not to drive down. Do I let go? -or- Do I go? His friend asked me to come so I went. He was on the front lines so to speak and could see him.

I trusted him. Worst case I would be told to turn around and I would have had time in the car enjoying my choice of music! Friend #2 kept me updated as I drove down.

Honestly these kids. First class kids. The universe was on my side. No traffic. Perfect weather. I made it there in the shortest time ever. My son’s blood pressure was stable when I arrived and he was turning the corner thanks to IV fluids and time. The nurses and doctors were the kindest people ever. One nurse in particular. She also has a freshman in college. She validated my driving down and praised the kids for how well they did.

She talked to my son about how well he did for knowing he needed medical help and shared her experience with making a similar mistake. No shame. Just support. As it should be. Shame doesn’t leave room for learning. Shame slams the door shut real fast on any opportunity for connection and therefore learning. Beautiful, truly. Again, gratitude runneth over. And here is where I share advice, which I rarely do (at least directly) but feel moved to.

My son’s phone was at 10% by the time he got to the hospital. –> If his phone died, his friends would NOT be able to reach me because they would not have my number. Nor would the hospital be able to get the information needed to reach me. One of the scariest things about our kids being away is the “what if there is an emergency” bit. We all have “in case of emergency” in our phones…but… Do your kids’ FRIENDS have your number to call in case of emergency, especially your college kids?

I know our college kids just got there, and maybe don’t have friends yet BUT do they have 1 or 2 kids they trust enough? Does their roommate have your number to call in an emergency? Listen, I am not about bribes BUT kids “yes” us. “Yeah, yeah mom I will do it.” NO. Offer $20 to Wendy’s to have your child’s friend send proof and call you. IT MATTERS.

This applies to any kiddo with a phone, high school, middle school. Shoot. This applies to OUR friends. Do our friends have our partner’s phone numbers?! Why? My son’s phone died and his friend had my number and called to tell me what hospital he was at. I couldn’t locate him otherwise. It was one of the first things I did when I found out what was going on.

If your child takes medication, do they know the names and doses? My son was smart enough to write it down and bring it with him. (Also, WOW and I’m still in shock. Like, what?! Bravo kiddo. Bravo.) I’m going to write it all on a credit card size piece of cardstock and laminate it so he always has it. Along with his birthday and my phone number. 

This was his second cardiac event. We think it was his medicine but…what if it wasn’t? If your child is over 18, do you have the necessary legal forms in place to be able to talk to doctors if needed? Luckily I did, BUT I forgot them;) Thankfully my fiancé scanned them and sent them to me.

I used Mama Bear Legal Forms. Super easy. So there you go. An uplifting Monday morning story with several nice little lessons too. I hope it made sense. I rolled in late last night and like I said, I’m still processing it all.

Today I have to figure out how to send cookies to these kiddos and find a way to let the school know how incredible their system is. And rest 😉 Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, especially if you’re worrying about your kiddos. Parenting is a lot and ain’t easy. End of story;) but even the hard moments have beautiful moments within them. Thinking of you all.

xoxo Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

College Move-In Is Coming — and I’m Already Grieving

Posted on by
Reply

I’m still a mess, six days later. And my son hasn’t even gone to college yet. The official move in day is Tuesday. 48 hours from now.

So, um, yeah. How about no?! Ugh, I just choked up…again. This isn’t far off from how I felt a year ago when I received the big manilla envelope from the high school about all the things “Senior” year related, like ordering a cap and gown. The anticipation of the year to come was brutal. It was a wake up call that time was going too fast. Too, too fast. It made me stop and think, “shoot, did I do a good job?” And not, “did I do a good job teaching him” but did I do a good job being the mom I wanted to be?! Did I live up to my ideals, goals, dreams? Or am I filled with regret?! And there’s the pit in my stomach…again. Sending a kid to college is hard. Full stop. Period. Whether it’s the first time, the last time, whether it is your child or grandchild, it is hard. It. Is. Hard.

This post though is also for anyone who isn’t sending a kid off to school…but is close or remembers college life themselves. This post is simply for anyone feeling the grays in life right now and feeling how this monumental milestone that we all see everywhere (every single store is screaming college!) is about a heck of a lot more than college.

It’s a friggin’ wake up call, forcing one to take stock in their life. And now I know why my gut called this month, “Au-dit-gust.” Blech. Do know, this is not a rah-rah, you’re going to be okay post. I don’t do toxic positivity around here. Nope. Not how I roll. I face the hard, the gray, the REAL tough and not-so-tough feelings head on. Otherwise they knock me down even further and getting up and getting going is that much harder. (And that isn’t even taking into account my joints or lack of flexibility these days) I don’t have time to be knocked down more than I already am, please and thank you.

I’ve got packing to do…so that I feel reassured my child is taken care of. I’ve got pictures to print…so that I feel confident I’ve set my child up in a space that feels like home. I’ve got letters to write…so that I feel satisfied that I’ve said all I want to say, mostly, “I’m so friggin’ proud of you and I love you. Have fun. I’m always here.

Also, don’t forget to return my texts or I’m showing up and will embarrass you.” I’ve got administrative crud to do…so that I feel content knowing I did my last job in this stage and my child can focus on adjusting. I’ve got moments to cherish the best I can…so that I don’t feel the weight of regret, which is a beast. I’ve got things to do so I feel the best I can in a hard situation. I don’t have time to pretend my feelings aren’t real and aren’t happening.

Ironic, right? So many people tell us to stuff our feelings and move forward. I agree with the moving forward – but not if stuff is not processed or at least seen and acknowledged. Moving forward will be a wicked workout instead of a walk in the park.

So here I am. Seeing all of you and the comments you wrote on my post about my firstborn going to college. I’m humbled by the attention the post received. As a “writer” I should be ecstatic. Want to know something? I’m not. I’m sad, heartbroken actually (and not just because of my kiddo going off to college officially, officially on Tuesday.) My post resonated for lots of reasons, but a few are because so many of us, too many of us, don’t feel fully seen -or- don’t feel fully free to express all the feels we feel -or- don’t know feel fully supported, but instead pressured to find the positive, feel better already, and just move on.

And this breaks my heart. I know how it feels to go through hard times alone. I know how it feels to have to bite one’s tongue, hold their feelings back, pretend everything is okay. I know how it feels to be misunderstood, judged, ridiculed for feeling fully. and I know how it feels to feel all the feels and wonder, how, how will I feel better and when will I feel better? It just doesn’t feel great and I wish, I wish we didn’t feel this way.

But…feeling sad happens….feeling lonely happens….feeling worried, overwhelmed, scared happens. and…feeling unsupported and misunderstood, sadly, happens.

But it doesn’t have to happen totally alone. All this to say, I see you all. I’m not joking when I say I wish I could be with you all in this moment and let you just be real. Let you feel seen.

But I can’t. Like I said, I’ve got packing to do 😉 So here’s what I’m thinking. This is what WE are all going to do, if we can.

  1. We are not going to hide. We are going to keep feeling all the feels out loud, here, so others can see and not feel alone. This will bring comfort to so many. And if we have the strength, we will reply to another comment to show love and support and to spread warmth.
  2. When we are out and about, if we see someone who has that same look we saw when we looked in the mirror this morning – maybe puffy eyes, maybe sheer exhaustion, maybe a sense of loss – we are going to share a gentle, loving smile. Maybe a tissue (lol, if we have one to spare.)
  3. We are going to keep sharing the heck out of the post in the comments (about my firstborn going to college.) Not because I want it to go viral (lol, kinda busy right now for this to happen, but my son is THRILLED) but because it is clear that people need it.

They need to know they don’t have to rush through their emotions right now. They need to know they aren’t broken. They need to know they are surrounded by others who get it. We all need each other – in person and virtually. Let’s lift each other up, the Orange Rhino style. With compassion, understanding, and real, honest to goodness, vulnerability.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if you are in the hard right now with me. I have so many more thoughts. They will be pouring out all week.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Sending a Child to College: The Excitement, Grief and Everything in Between

Posted on by
Reply

Here’s the thing –> I’m a mess. I know I’m not the only one here sending a child off to college for the first time. This post isn’t just for those of us in these shoes. It’s for anyone feeling all the feels except for the one of being able to freely share that they are. Maybe I’m the only one feeling this way and if that’s the case, well, alrighty then. I don’t think it is though. I think there is a lot of subconscious messaging out there that leads people to not fully share how they are really feeling because they worry it won’t be received well, won’t be understood, will make them excluded, will make them feel broken or even more alone.

Again, maybe it’s just me and my past traumas and life experiences speaking…but I don’t think so. For whatever reason, I feel like I have to put on a brave face and pretend everything is honky dory right now, or at least mostly honky dory, as I prepare to send my firstborn off to his Freshman year. Social media is flooded with sentiments around “it will be okay” in regards to first children going off to college for the first time.

I know that, but right now? Right now, I’m not there. Right now, I have more worry than feelings of ease. I’m inundated with inspirational messages about how hard it is, but that I’ll get through it. Or there are messages of: I know how hard it is and here’s advice. These are great messages; helpful, beautiful, SPOT ON ACCURATE.

But right now? I’m full of overwhelm, doubt. My child isn’t even on campus so I can’t even think that far ahead. And also, right now? I don’t want that. I just want the messages to stop at, “It’s hard.” Or at least be followed by something along the lines of, Hey reader, I see you. I know you are feeling all sorts of feelings around your oldest child going to college for the first time. You are both excited for the fun you know they will have…but also worried that wait, maybe they won’t?

You know everyone takes a while to make new friends and really find a groove, and that it does work out…but also, what if it takes too long and turns into real homesickness? Or what if, what if they don’t find their people and it’s a repeat of high school? You know you have done your best raising them and teaching them about the ins and outs of the world, how to be street smart and book smart…but also, what happens when push comes to shove and it’s the new environment when peer pressure is a beast? What then?

You know you will both rise to the occasion, work through the challenge, and that your child will learn from it and that it is part of the experience…but also, UGH it isn’t fun, and also, what if, what if?! You know they have picked a great school, a great match for them and you feel so confident they will be taken care of…but also, gosh, darnit, you are going to miss them so much. So. Very. Very. Much.

How are you going to keep going at home for your other kiddos when you are missing one so much? You know this isn’t forever, that they will be home for breaks and summer vacations but also…you know this is a massive change in the way life looks moving forward, that this is the beginning of a major shift in the makeup of the home and vacations overall and that is hard as heck. How do vacations look in the future, especially as a divorced family?

You know it will all be okay at some point, that you will be okay through it all and also will be okay at some point…but also, but also… Can I please just feel all the feels right now and not have to feel better right now? Can I not pretend? Can I be real? Can we not say how hard and bittersweet it is, even though we know the future is also beautiful…and also bittersweet? Why do we always have to sugarcoat?!

Sometimes the best way to help someone feel better is to simply meet them where they are at and to STAY THERE in that feeling without moving them through it right then and there. I am not looking to wallow. I am not looking to stay stuck. I just need to admit that this shite is HARD and I’m feeling so many frigging emotions – and not because of perimenopause but because this transition is GARGANTUAN and it deserves the full acknowledgement as such.

I’m excited for all the experiences and friends and memories to be made…I’m sad because my buddy won’t be flashing his smile at me daily or his smirk when I make a bad mom joke; but facetime is a good replacement. I’m confident in the school and my son’s ability to figure things out…and I’m nervous for the transition, the skills that aren’t there, the challenges that I do know will happen. I’m overwhelmed because there is still much to do and I’m reassured because there is always Amazon and Target after the fact.

I’m all sorts of everything. And if you are too, I see you. I’m standing right there with you in the moment and staying there with you.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially, especially if you are feeling for whatever reason that you can’t fully express yourself or feel all the feels. I get it.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Adult Friendship: Why I Want More Than Three Local Friends

Posted on by
Reply

I don’t have a lot of friends, at least not locally. And I’ll be honest, I wish I had a few more than three. Not because I need a lot, but because it’s fun to go out to dinner with a group sometimes, you know? And share a bunch of laughs, instead of a few? And also because each friend has different interests that overlap with yours so it’s nice to have a few of ’em.

Because every friend brings different thoughts, perspectives, and more so it helps expand your own thoughts and perspectives.

So yeah, sometimes I wish I had more friends, or at least, more friends locally. Does it mean I don’t love the few friends I have? Nah. Love ’em to pieces and am so grateful for them. It just means, sometimes I long for a little more. Some of the friend situations are my own doing because I’m not very good at keeping in touch. I have a couple of close friends in town who I rarely see. Our schedules hardly overlap and even if they do, I’m not great at reaching out ahead of time to see IF they do have plans that week or even the next.

And some of it’s my own doing because I haven’t put the effort in to meet new people. I haven’t put myself out there. I haven’t gone to events or joined groups with like minded people that I would connect with.

But then again, if I hardly have time for myself and the great friends I do have, why would I add more things to my “to do” list? It kinda doesn’t make sense, but also kinda does, ya know? Human connection is a necessity. Not just a want, a necessity. Please tell me this makes sense lol. And some of my friend situation is my own doing because, well, I’m me and my family is my family. They say when you get older you meet people and make friends through your kids.

Well, my kids aren’t overly involved in local activities so there’s that. And me? Well, I don’t party. I am not married. I’m REAL and am not fake. I seem to just stand on the outside of things, welcomed, but then not included. I don’t know. I just don’t seem to be invited to things or reached out for my number to grab coffee. At least, not that much. I’ve accepted it. It just, well, stinks. ALL THIS SAID…I have an amazing, uplifting story to share from the other day. And before you ask, yes, yes it also brought tears at the end of the day, tears of gratitude.

A few weeks ago, I got a random facebook message. Long story short, a mom from the college my son is going to connected some dots between people she knew and pages she and I are both on and figure out that her son and my son might have some things in common. She had also found a few other moms with sons with similar journeys. All of us live within 15 minutes of each other and one lives in California. Six of us have been texting the last month.

Sharing our fears. Asking questions. Giving support. Celebrating graduations. Experiencing similar emotions, together, that others might not understand. Talk about a gift.

Well, Thursday I got to meet two of the moms. Ladies…rare is the time where I have walked up to two women who I have never met and felt at ease. Am I right? I know you know what I mean. Rare is the time where I have met new women and just felt, well, like I could be me; where I could speak freely about my journey as the mom of my son; where I could share freely, honestly, openly without fear of judgement. Rare is the time when I could make jokes and laugh with people I JUST MET not minutes ago.

I spent all day with these ladies. It was amazing. We took a picture at the end of the day and I joked that we will take one again in four years. We all laughed and said, well hopefully four and not five or six;) The thing is, I truly feel we will all be together again in four years (or five or six) to take that photo. Oh how I hope so.

We are all getting together with our sons tomorrow. I can’t wait. I have been longing for this for so long. Soooo long. What a gift. Which brings me to my final point. One of the sessions they actually spoke of just this desire… BeLong(ing) that is. That is how they showed it on the screen. Their wish, their goal, is to ensure all students feel as if they belong because they know everyone has a longing for it. I had been longing to feel accepted. We all have that longing. To get that feeling though, it helps to be around the right people.

Those people aren’t just kind, those people have similar interests, similar journeys, similar a lot of things. Some things are different for sure, that helps us all to grow (there is beauty in differences!!!!) but similarities help us to feel as if we BeLong. I hope you all feel as if you BeLong here.

And I hope if you get nothing else from yet another long post from me 🙂 you feel inspired to take action to build up friendships that I know you are longing for – or reinforcing the ones you have. Tell me, share with me, how do you feel about your friendship circle these days? I have a hunch many of you might be feeling similar to me…

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, especially if you totally got this post.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Letting Go as Your Kids Grow Up — Without Missing the Beautiful Parts

Posted on by
Reply

I didn’t have kids so that I could be away from them; I had kids so that I could be with them. I didn’t have kids so that I could be around just for the tough times; I had kids so that I could witness, actively participate in the really beautiful times. The milestones. The celebrations. The achievements. Their excitement. Their joy. Likewise, I didn’t get married so that I could get divorced and then have to split up special days in my kids’ lives and therefore miss out on some pieces.

But here I am. Divorced and missing out.

Today, my second son is heading out for two weeks to go to a college for a science course he is wicked excited about. I helped him find the course, apply to the course, and pack for the course. I’m not taking him to the course though, his father is. I am taking him to another course later this summer, which is at my alma mater, so that’s cool. And we agreed to this arrangement for a few reasons so it kinda sorta makes sense that I’m not going today and also…and also…

It SUCKS. Like, a lot, a lot. I want to be there when his eyes go wide open as he sees how beautiful the campus is that he got accepted to for this summer program. I want to be there when he smiles with excitement as he sees all the events he gets to participate in. I want to be there to help him unpack and set up his dorm room. Sure, it isn’t “college” but it is a dry run. He’s my first kiddo going away for more than a weekend and well, it’s a big deal, for him, for me.

I want to be there to make sure he knows the this, the that, the that, the this. I want to be there to do the mom things, you know? To answer his questions. To ease his anxiety (which I know is high.) To support him in any way he needs. I just want to friggin’ be there.

But I won’t be. I’m missing out on a really, really big moment. And it sucks. It hurts. Like so, so much. I didn’t have kids so that I could be away from them; I had kids that I could be with them. I didn’t have kids so that I could be around just for the tough times; I had kids so that I could witness, actively participate in the really beautiful times.

The milestones.
The celebrations.
The achievements.
Their excitement.
Their joy.

And also, their worries and their needs, expected and unexpected. I had kids so I could be there for them. Life is both/and. Life is both orange and gray. We can understand something, and also not like it. We can support something, and also, strongly, strongly dislike it. Part of me is really friggin’ mad at myself for not saying I wanted to go as well but…it’s just the way the cookie crumbled. I just don’t like the crumbs.

Because that’s the thing, divorced or not, as parents, we do miss out sometimes. Even when not divorced, I missed out, rather, I opted out.

I remember my ex wanting to take the boys skiing for the first time. I really, really, REALLY wanted to go. But I was so overwhelmed with writing my book that I knew for me, I needed the day to myself to enjoy the quiet so that I could show up better for everyone that week.

So I missed out by opting out. MOOO lol. Even though it was my choice, it was still a hard call. The right call, but also the hard call. Same with the divorce. Same with today. And even though I have not missed a lot, and even though my ex and I have beautifully shared a lot, and even though I am so grateful for how well we have done, today, today is still hard and… I’m not feeling all the warm fuzzies about life.

I’m feeling them about my son though. I’m bursting with pride and excitement for him; with amazement at how he follows his heart time and time again. Life is both/and. If there is one upside to my divorce, it’s that because I do miss out on things now, I am much, much more intentional in living and much, much more intentional in my times with my kids.

People talk about FOMO oh so casually and almost make fun of it sometimes. Well for some of us, it’s real. So I make sure, when and where I can control things, I don’t miss out. I don’t want to miss out on anything because of my own doing, because of my own actions. Sure, I will opt out for my mental health so that I can show up better, so that I don’t get so burnt out or sick that I do miss out in the long run but… I won’t set myself up to miss out in the present.

I actively work to set myself up to be as present as I can in the moment. I didn’t used to be so good at it, but now, now I try harder than ever. It’s hard. (Okay Sheil, that is kinda a realllly big understatement lol. You couldn’t find a better word?!) And, it does put a lot of pressure on myself. No doubt. It’s extra hard now that I am actively working to effectively launch a new company. Trying to be the fully present mom I want to be so I “don’t miss a thing” while also trying to launch a company so that I fulfill my needs (which by the way, fuels my heart which helps me be more present) is a lot. It’s a juggling act, one I’m still learning.

This week, the company got dropped. It didn’t feel good. But I didn’t miss out on what mattered with my kids and that felt wonderful. My son and I packed all day yesterday. I was as present as I could be, pushing all my feelings aside to focus on him. Not easy. I’m going to post this and wake him up to see if he wants to go for breakfast, then send him off with his dad with a big hug and smile, and fight like heck to hold back my tears so I send him off with warmth, strength, and my confidence and happiness.

I don’t want to send him off with my baggage, just his. It won’t be easy. But when is parenting ever easy? Thinking of everyone today who is feeling the reality of life being both/and today knowing that we will all, yes all of us, get through these tough both/and moments. We will, we will. I promise. Truly.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, especially if you know all too well what I mean about missing out, divorced or not.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino