Right now, emotions are running high in our household: our eldest is heading off to college, while our youngest is just embarking on high school. I feel utterly powerless as these changes unfold, and let’s be honest, I’m not prepared for it. The chaos doesn’t just affect me; it’s like a contagion that spreads through the entire family.
Take last week, for example. My youngest had soccer tryouts, and he was a nervous wreck. I felt like I was tiptoeing around him, unsure of how to be supportive. Should I engage him with questions about tryouts, give him space, or try to distract him? As he came off the field, I would attempt to inject humor to lighten the mood, but sometimes he’d just shoot me a glare instead. That was delightful.
To top it off, I’ve been burning the midnight oil waiting for my oldest to return home after saying goodbye to friends. Then, it’s an early start to drive my youngest to tryouts. Lack of sleep plus feeling out of control equals a teary-eyed mom, which is not exactly the most pleasant situation for anyone involved.
And now, my son is leaving in just three days—or to be precise, in three days, 11 hours, and 26 minutes according to the college’s Welcome Week countdown I just checked. Three days! Why couldn’t he have left during that phase last year when he was being a total pain? Back then, I would have happily packed him off to college without a second glance. But now, he’s transformed into a sweet, pleasant person who even gets along with his younger brother! What gives?
Yes, I’m fragile at the moment, tearing up over the smallest things. Just yesterday, I received a delivery notification for a table destined for our home on August 25, and I found myself crying. Why? Because my oldest won’t be around to see it. Absurd, right?
Am I sounding a little manic? Because I feel that way. With everything feeling out of my grasp, I’ve turned to organizing as a coping mechanism. While I can’t control the waves of change in my life, I can dictate what goes into my junk drawer and how neat my refrigerator looks.
Fortunately, my need for control has often converged with organizing. For instance, when we moved after getting married, I found solace in hunting for the perfect baskets and drawer organizers. Navigating the stress of having a baby led me to seek out the ideal storage solutions for all the baby essentials. And during a particularly difficult time when my father was ill, I distracted myself by helping my mom organize the newly remodeled house they had just moved into. Under pressure, I excel at organizing.
Now, as I prepare to help my kid transition from our home to his dorm, I’ve become obsessively focused on plastic storage bins. It seems that everywhere I go, I stumble upon a plethora of bins in every conceivable shape, size, and color. And I can envision a purpose for each one. That blue three-drawer bin? Just right for school supplies and doubles as a bedside table! The elongated bin with a hinged lid? Ideal for stashing wiffle ball bats and golf clubs under the bed. And that little red container? Perfect for first-aid supplies! (Clever, right?)
Rest assured, I haven’t resorted to purchasing color-coded bins or slapping labels on everything—yet. I know that would mortify my son, but the temptation is strong. My husband thinks I’ve lost it, and my kid just rolls his eyes, but I’m beyond caring.
While I can’t dictate what lies ahead for my son, I can guarantee he will be the most organized freshman on campus… at least until I drive away.
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In summary, as my family navigates these emotional changes, I find comfort in organizing, ensuring that while I may feel fragile, at least I can control my surroundings.
Keyphrase: Emotional transitions in family life
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