Nesting (College Version)

You are here with me
You are here with me
You have been here and you are everything

Before my baby came into my life, seemingly seconds ago, an instinct kicked in - nesting. It’s a sort of panic. This new person was on his way and there was so much to do and not enough time. I scurried around town, around the internet, finding the best of everything for his space. The right furniture, the right bedding, the clothes, the toys. Everything I knew was necessary to make baby feel at home.

My husband and I prepared our home so it was perfect for this perfect little stranger. We more or less succeeded. He’ll probably never know the care that went into making his space just right. But he’ll feel it. I think he knows.

Over the years, the house grew with this tiny person who became a toddler, then a school kid, and now a teenager. Looking around the house, there is evidence of every stage. His drawings, clay pots, baby pictures, marks on the ceiling from that ball that bounced higher than we thought it would. Our house used to be furnished by Fisher Price, now it’s this mishmash of souvenirs from all our years together. Turn your head and see another memory.

Flash forward in what seems like a blink. He was our baby, and now he’s nineteen. He’s a freshman in college. He left this home, the only one he really remembers - having lived here since he was a first-grader. He left this place in August when we all travelled up north to take him a thousand miles away to his school.

The space that has been fully his for more than a decade felt so empty when he went away, flew the nest. But this empty nest is about to fill up again. I started feeling it in October. The college kid is coming home and I need everything to be PERFECT!

Friends ask me if I’m excited for Jake to come home in December. Um, understatement! That panic came back. Not only am I already making a list of every favorite meal, favorite snack, favorite root beer to have on hand when he arrives - I’m in full nesting mode. It’s happening again!

I’m not just ready for him to come home - I’m ready for him to come home to the best version of home. Home 2.0.

Yes, I cleaned his room (it was fine) and bathroom (it was not fine) literally from ceiling to floor. I touched up the paint in his bedroom, his bathroom, the hall leading to both. I went into an organization mode that would rival many a Netflix series. Why were there so many expired toiletries? Who would need this many orthodontic rubber bands? We’ll never know, but baby, they’re gone.

So now it’s just days until our boy comes home for a long holiday break. I know he’ll need to rest. He’s earned this downtime. And I’m so happy that he’ll have a comfortable place to land.

Eleven days and counting...

The Parent Liaison

Twelve years ago, my son started first grade and my journey to find all the answers began. But wait, actually...

Nineteen years ago, my son was born and my journey to find all the answers began.

But of course, I started even before then, just like many of us do. I was thinking about him and planning for him long before he was born. As a teacher, I was planning his due date so I’d be able to make the most of my summer break. Before he was born, he was on preschool waitlists. We did the math and found our combined income would be the same whether I went back to teaching or not, so I made the choice to stay home. I’m still so glad I made that choice.

I joked that I was the “stay at home mom who never stayed at home”. We had activities nearly every day of the week. Playdates, swim lessons, zoo tots, gymnastics. Later there was children’s theater, tennis lessons, golf lessons, soccer clinics, lollipop league baseball, art classes. We kept busy. He was learning what he liked and what he didn’t. Sometimes he’d like things for a while, then phase them out. He was learning skills, sure. He was learning about teamwork, which is great. But together, we were finding our community.

So fast forward to first grade, where this essay began. The kid started first grade. He was in a new school. We were in a new neighborhood. He had been identified as gifted in kindergarten and some of his quirks started to make sense. Sensitivities, anxieties, a sense of justice that already matched mine. These were all characteristics of gifted people, but I didn’t feel like I knew enough to help him. How do you explain to the soccer coach that your kid is panicking about the rain because he’s scared it will become a tornado. How to you explain to the teacher that when he gets a scrape he’s breaking down because he’s sure it will become infected and he’ll die. The idea of a teacher conference was overwhelming - and me, a former teacher!

After a chat, AKA venting session, with his gifted teacher, she referred me to a support group for parents of gifted children. I popped into a few meetings, got involved, got recruited into a leadership position, and never looked back. I led the group for more than a decade and started advocating at a state level. Turns out, while helping my kid and my family, I can also help others in my community.

And that’s why I’m here. My kid has graduated out of our school district, but I’m not done helping my community. I want stick with what I know, helping to educate, advocate, and connect with people about so many of the topics we all struggle with.

I’m not the expert, but I can help you connect with the experts. And together we can grow and find our way one connection at a time.