When Your College Kid Comes Home and the Transition Is Hard for Everyone

I knew it would happen. And it did. Sometimes I hate being right. As much fun as I had picking up my college kiddo from the airport and having dinner together that night, I want to share another truth. Having him home was hard. For both of us. He (mostly) likes college better. He has friends there. No “quiet hours.” No expectations from me—directly at least;) Here, well… We all had school or work the next day so he had to be uber quiet at night.

And since the renovation, I’ve been slowly putting everything away. So he came home to a house where he suddenly didn’t know where any of the important stuff was. Phone chargers. Pens, pencils. Silverware. It was frustrating for him—to feel out of place. Literally and metaphorically. And honestly? It hurt a little for me too. I also wished he felt more at ease here, at home. Like he used to. You know, in the “before college” days. (Shite, those wet things on my face again.) It’s a strange feeling when your child comes home… and home to them feels different…and you know things are just no longer the same. Not bad, just changed.

Still, there were warm moments. We watched a new cooking show together. The next night, at his request, I made the meal from it and we both loved it. (Street tacos. O.M.G. Amazing recipe. This never would have happened before college, so there’s one, okay of many, upsides.) I introduced him to my mocktail, which he loved. We walked the dog together. It wasn’t all hard. By Saturday he was finally settling in… just in time for him to spend his last day home working on a school paper.

And that’s when the disappointment in myself started to creep in. I knew when I dropped him back at college the next day, I’d be bummed that I hadn’t been as present during his time home as I wanted to be. That I’d be bummed that I’d been frustrated when he’d been frustrated. I was also bummed that our time together was so short to begin with. He spent half the week in Florida with his dad (as he should) and his new friends.

At the same time, I was so happy he went on a trip with them, had a blast, and found a new level of confidence. Enough confidence to go skydiving. And yes, that was a long half hour waiting for the phone call that he was fine lol.

I know this is the new spring break normal. Trips with friends. I think this is one of the quieter heartbreaks of parenting older kids. They either come home on breaks, but not quite in the same way.Or they choose friends. Either way, you’re grateful they’re growing, gosh you are so grateful, and you’re happy they’re healthy and happy…but you’re also missing what was. Just because I know this doesn’t make it easier though. Likewise, I know this summer, when he transitions home again, it’ll be bumpy at first. That doesn’t make it easier either. Knowing does help me plan ahead though. Not worry… just create some workarounds to ease the easing back into home.

Yesterday morning, I made him pancakes and bacon one more time. Then I drove him back to his second home. It wasn’t even a few minutes into my drive back home before I got this text: “I love you mom. I already miss you. I had a great time watching the cooking show with you. I love you so much and you’re a great mom.” Exactly the dose of orange I needed to make it home without bawling my eyes out. LOL. I pulled in the driveway and another message from him popped up.

It’s in the comments (assuming I can figure out how to share it haha) Cue the tears. Oh life… you sure are full of grorange. Parents of older kids… did this stage catch you off guard too?

Sending my warmth and a little oomph to you all today and always,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

I Miss the Old Me: How I’m Finding My Way Back to the Parts of Myself I Love

Somedays, I miss the “old me.” The one who once wore a Shrek costume, stood in the elementary school drop-off lane, and welcomed everyone (and I mean everyone) to school. It was Halloween. I was leading the play and wanted a fun way to promote the kick-off meeting. No hesitation. No shame. Absolutely zero fear. 100% courage and “what do I have to lose?” I’ve also used to be a live auctioneer at fundraisers. I once stood in front of most of my company, mic in hand, spotlight on, and called out my Chief Marketing Officer to raise his bid.

I was 22. Maybe 23. Not even a year on the job. Talk about courage — or audacity. Your call. I still laugh at the fact that I did that. Like, seriously Sheil?! Some days I wonder where that girl has gone. (News flash: she hasn’t gone anywhere. She’s just been on vacation. Rumor has it she’s boarding the flight home. Hopefully she will stay a wee bit longer this time.) Seriously though — she’s not fully here right now, as I type out this post.

Because I’m oddly nervous. Afraid to take a very simple step. With people who aren’t even my boss. (Okay. We can call it what it is. Fear of rejection. Fear of officially taking a step forward. So…we’ll add fear of failure to that list.) So I’m borrowing a little Shrek-level boldness and auctioneer confidence and going for it.

Also known as, Orange Rhino-ness (Just came up with the word. I like it. It stays.) –> I’m looking for 5–10 women who’d be willing to help me as I prepare to wear one of my new “hats” this spring. If that sounds fun — or even mildly intriguing — and you’re willing to publicly share a photo, comment below and send me a message. That way I won’t miss it (hi, ADHD!) If more than 10 reach out, I’ll randomly choose. Happy Tuesday!

And happy me literally wearing a hat again after a week. Even if I couldn’t properly rest it on my head lol.

Sending my warmth, today and always.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino