I don’t know your struggle. This doesn’t mean I don’t care about it. I am glad to listen, should you chose to tell me. What it means is, I don’t have the experience of your life to put this moment in context. Without meaning this to be dismissive, I frankly don’t see “the struggle” as the total of your life’s story. And while it may be real, my struggle isn’t all of my story.
I thought that as an adult, I was done with panic attacks. I was cocky, hadn’t had one in years, I was so obviously over them. But when your life is somehow upended, the dormant ways float back to the surface.
My intent here is more or less a PSA about the second thing I learned: Irish folks really cannot stand when Americans say St. Patty’s Day on St. Patrick’s Day.
But when they do get into college (and they will), how do we know if they are ready to go? How do we let go as parents this year—on some things—but not everything? How do WE know they are prepared, and what can we do to ensure they are?
The reality is that I have no earthly idea what I am doing with the big kid during school breaks, and have mostly been covering my ears and humming repetitive tunes rather than having to research it, price it, and register. For short breaks, I foist her off on friends and neighbors, but for longer breaks, I’m going to actually have to plan.
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