sage advice

Sometimes, it’s a real animal sanctuary in our yard. We’ve been known to relocate a few friends, from baby rabbits to moles, groundhogs, and even snakes. I was moving a repeat-offender frog for the third time the other afternoon {the kids named him Matthew} when I nearly stepped on a baby bird sitting right out in the open. It might have been a fledgling, but it didn’t look like it could fledge very well. He was covered in down, and his neck was a pink transparency when he stretched, with eyes barely open. At first, I thought he was misplaced. So, fledgling or not, I scooped him up. The idea that parents won’t return is a myth, and I know nature’s gonna nature, but my dogs are also going to dog very hard, so I wanted the little guy out of harm’s way so he could have the best chance possible.

After climbing up to one nest that has been multi-generational with cardinals for the past year and realizing he did not belong there {he was an entirely different size}, I searched for another nest. Reading up on what to do on the when-in-doubt section of baby birds {Please don’t come at me with your pitchforks, I was very careful}, we placed him in a makeshift nest on our treehouse porch. If he’d fallen somewhere, I felt this was a place where his parents could get to him, and he would be safe. I added a ring camera to ensure mom or dad returned. Sure enough, a chittering red cardinal visited intermittently and slowly convinced the ، to jump down with him. It took a few tries before he gained the nerve, and then, I watched on pins and needles on the Ring app while they made the jump together.

It made me a little emotional if I’m being honest. I’m always in awe of the seemingly little things like that that are actually really big things. It was amazing to watch. Our yard is full of perils like lawnmowers, dogs, birds of prey, and snakes. Even the ants are something to be wary of. I realized maybe I was projecting a little too ، this baby who was cared for. As it turns out, baby cardinals leave the nest at about nine to eleven days, and can take up to nineteen days to fly. That makes for a pretty large gap of time dependent on the fledgling’s survival and the parents overseeing its well-being. I checked on his secret location in the yard a few more times and kept the dogs on a leash. He sat there hiding, perfectly content, waiting on his parents until I couldn’t find him again.

And while I’m nerve-racked on the sidelines, hoping the baby made it… this is what they do.\xa0They equip the baby until he’s ready {or not}, and they guide him out of the nest.

A friend in the same stage, getting her son ready for school, looked at me the other day and said, “Have you ever been on a roller coaster? You know, that part where you’re going up the incline and there’s that click, click, click… all the way to the top? This stage feels a lot like that.” She’s right. This is exactly what it feels like. Our oldest’s college posted a simple social media announcement last week: 5. As in weeks. Because this is it. My oldest moves in the day before his birthday.

Everything hits a little harder now. The lists have been made, and the bedding has been purchased. Someone asked me how I was doing the other day, and I laughed, “Well, I just purchased a Q-tip holder for his bathroom, so that should tell you something about my mental state.” I can’t seem to quiet that little voice that asks questions like, But WhAt iF hE NeEdS SoMeThInG FoR HiS Q-tIpS!?

Many of you have really been with us on this journey. Some of you, from when my oldest was a baby and I started up my dusty little corner of the www on a little old Blogspot. Then, somehow, we grew into where we are now, and some of you, bless your sweet souls, are still with us. Many of you have shared your own experiences in tandem with us over time, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Truly. It’s always made me feel a little more normal, and it’s a reminder of why I started doing all this in the first place.\xa0

This winter, we shared plans for our oldest’s direction in the realm of all things next. Then, we shared a little graduation post from the heart. Now, it’s the summer of letting go. And this has been the hardest, by far. I know it’s the beginning. I know this next year will be the year of transition. Of helping him make this leap. Of waiting quietly in the background, hoping we’ve given him the tools to adjust and pivot when needed. To thrive where he’s planted and rise up and learn when he experiences failure.

And then it hit me: We’re just like those cardinal parents. Showing him how to leap.\xa0

I am white-knuckling it all the way up this roller coaster incline. But I’m going to have to let go on the way down.

Some of the best practical advice we’ve received so far was from our pediatrician. He said that when his sons left for college, there was never a good time to talk. Whenever he texted or cold-called them, he realized he was getting nowhere. So he started texting to schedule an appointment for a conversation instead. A time that would be good for them. With that, the kids were available when they were ready, and he could carry on deeper connections with them rather than a cold call, catching them off guard.\xa0

I’ve gladly gleaned a ton of great tips so far from various sources and people. I feel like I’m drinking from a fire hose, trying to keep up with parking passes, dates, and requirements, and really just making sure we have all our bases covered on the technical side. But what I really love is the wisdom. Some of the wisest people are those who have boldly gone before us in this stage of life. So, I thought it would be fun to open up social media + comments here to ask for your input.\xa0

Have you been here before? Please tell us anything you have learned that has helped you in this transition. That’s all. It can be anything practical that you find to be helpful. It can be the best bed skirt. Or what you learned not to do their freshman year. Move-in day advice. A challenge your kid overcame. The best item for that first-aid kit. Whether it’s something as simple as those giant Ikea bags for packing, or something wise someone told you, we would LOVE to hear.\xa0

So here’s to white-knuckling it all the way up that roller coaster. Jumping from the nest. Not getting in the way, and gleaning from some sage advice in the meantime.\xa0