It finally happened. The most magical moment of any stay-at-home dad’s career: ALL the kids are in school!

I thought I’d be more emotional about this. I was sure I’d be filled with crippling fears and worry. Would the house feel too empty? Would I roam silent rooms, clutching my pearls (or the male equivalent), while weeping over the loss of my precious babies and yelling, “They’ve all grown up and left me!”?

OK, I did cry. Not gonna lie.

But right now I’m writing while listening to loud, offensive, very inappropriate music, and it’s magnificent!

Sometimes the measure of success as a parent is dubious at best. Most victories come in small bites. A “Yes, please,” from your kid to a stranger. A gentle hug from your oldest to the youngest, followed by some encouraging words. These are powerful at the moment, but they feel small. Isolated.

It’s not that I want the world to know just how awesome I am as a dad, but, damn it, I do want the world to know, at the very least, I don’t suck at this! So when my youngest daughter leaped out of the minivan, chatty and excited to begin her first day of school, teachers nodded approvingly, and other parents with shrieking children frowned with a smidge of jealousy, I felt I had earned my reward. They could see. They could ALL see I didn’t suck!

Most of my time as a father has been spent pondering how I would cope with these types of moments. How will I react to the pivotal developmental milestones? I fail plenty, but in preparing my children to step out of the home and be independent, I feel I’m doing OK. Encouraging independence is not my best quality. I’m a hovering helicopter parent who has had to work extremely hard to let the baby birds fly, climb, swim and leave the nest. This does not come naturally, but I know it’s important.

Teach self-sufficiency, reclaim independence

My parents weren’t the best at this either. They gave me great freedom. In fact, when I ponder some of the things I did as a kid, I’m filled with anxiety. How the hell did my mom let me disappear all day without a cell phone? Feels impossible. Although I had great fun (and found lots of trouble), my parents did everything else for me. They never pushed me to overcome my anxiety and figure the world out for myself.

My mom had her reasons for behaving this way. Her childhood was much different than mine so she focused on making sure I had a proper childhood. She and my dad succeeded greatly in this, but along the way, I wasn’t really pushed to be independent. It took me a long time and a lot of hard lessons to find my way. I’ve endeavored to amend this approach with my kids – although I should probably sprinkle in some of my mom’s free-wheeling style every now and then.

My fellow dads and parents, I want to tell you it’s OK.

It’s fine to revel in the blessed silence.

It’s OK to get some of your independence back.

It’s fine to reclaim some of your life that was lost when the kids came around.

No, you’ll never be the same, but that’s a good thing. Kids change us forever in all the best ways. They are the adorable fiery cauldron that refine us into the people we could have never become without them.

So as they assert themselves into their own entities capable of existing without you, even if just for a few hours a day, it’s OK to chase after some of the old life you left behind. Give yourself permission. You’ll feel better.

But you better do it soon. Those little monsters will need to be picked up in a few hours, and that school car pickup line is a bitch.

Reclaim your life photo: © Maria Sbytova / Adobe Stock.

“Thickly Settled.”

That’s the road sign that appeared as my wife and I drove around the Massachusetts town where we had just moved our oldest child into her college dormitory.

I had never seen such a sign, but my first thought was how “thickly settled” my heavy heart had been all weekend. I knew drop-off would be bittersweet, but the crowded mix of contradictory emotions that had taken up residence in me kept shifting through pride, sadness, joy and fear.

Upon second thought, I realized the opposite: my heart was “thickly unsettled.” But I found the metaphor of a family as a settlement oddly comforting. A healthy family is established through years of settling into rituals and habits of love. So it’s natural that when one member leaves such a colony of caring, all aspects are disrupted. The resulting grief, however, reconfirms the settlement’s value.

My third thought after seeing the sign should have been my first: What does “thickly settled” mean legally? I learned later it’s a remnant of New England’s past that means “this is a densely populated area with houses built close together so the unposted speed limit is 30 miles per hour.” Luckily, my reverie with metaphors did not lead to a speeding ticket, which would have been further unsettling.

The toughest part of the drop-off process actually occurred the night before we left home. As I tried to fall asleep, the enormity of the changes about to happen hit me. It’s possible I used some “I’m not crying, you’re crying” humor with my wife to endure it. But I vowed not to reveal too much sadness in front of my daughter. It’s always important to try to be strong for the person experiencing the most transition.

Surprisingly, the move-in was not very emotional, thanks to a variety of healthy distractions. First, a well-organized team of upper-class students helped us carry our items to the dorm room. Second, one of my daughter’s roommates came with a sister who was already in college, which had a calming influence on all of us. Third, the students’ orientation schedule for the weekend was so packed with events that we barely spent much time with our daughter! I suppose the order and structure are meant to combat how most students and parents feel during the changes at hand.

In fact, the actual “goodbye moment” was rather anticlimactic. Due to a scheduling glitch, we had to yank my daughter out of an orientation activity to hug her and then let her go as a construction worker in the quad looked on respectfully. (He cautioned my wife and me to avoid stepping into an open sewer hole as we sniffled away.)

Every new settlement begins with a pioneer

Since the college drop-off experience, a final metaphor related to settling land has helped me put things in perspective: the pioneer. (I apologize for being “thick” with metaphors, but they help me process times when I feel overstimulated as a parent.)

A college freshman is a pioneer whose turn it is to explore new land, meet other seekers, and blaze new trails through the “thinly settled” frontier of her future. My job is to keep the original home fire burning.

After the long drive back to our house, I forced myself to complete a dreaded task: viewing my daughter’s bedroom. It was quiet, semi-empty, and the tidiest it has ever been. Take a moment to cherish your children, but also gaze at their rooms. Believe it or not, you will miss even their messes someday. I try to keep that in mind when I see my 15-year-old daughter’s clothes bursting from their wide-open dresser drawers yet again. That sight used to anger me. Instead, I see those drawers now as colorful flower boxes overflowing with splendor on a dresser-turned-tiny-house. At least until our family routines — and our hearts — settle once again.

Photo: Jonathan Klok on Unsplash

Today is June 1st, which marks the kick-off to the Media March until Father’s Day on June 19th. That’s right!  You will see a glut of media segments, articles, books, films, etc. with a focus or “spin” capturing the essence of involved, caring, active, engaged, and committed dads. Of course, we will aim to share as much relevant content as we can.

The stay-at-home dad usually becomes the superhero in the midst of this media frenzy.  Consequently, many of the active dads in our community agree that the working father who is juggling work-life balance and carving out time for his family is the true hero. Maybe more of these dads will get some more press in the next few weeks – we shall see. While I agree that most media outlets pull out all of the stops to publish the heartwarming and touching story that hooks you in within the next two weeks … I am more impressed at the amount of dad-centric content that is now being shared in months other than June. A true testament to the evolution of dad and modern parenthood!

So, without further delay…here is some information about a new film that is Premiering on HBO on Father’s Day (June 19th).  A.O. Scott, a movie critic whose opinions I truly value, calls the film “Remarkable.”

The Kids Grow Up, by New York City dad, Doug Block, aims to be a moving film about his relationship with his only child, Lucy.  The film “chronicles Lucy’s emotionally fraught last year at home before leaving for college. Moving seamlessly between past, present, and the fast-approaching future, Block has not only crafted a loving portrait of a girl transitioning into womanhood, but also a deeply poignant look at parenting and what it means to let go.

This time of transition comes with its fair share of struggles. To his credit, Block does not shy away from these moments, nor from the humorous yet occasionally tough analysis his wife offers. The result is a personal story told with such honesty and intimacy that a singular experience unfolds into a universal tale of parenthood, marriage, and family— making this a film that fathers, mothers, sons and daughters can equally appreciate.”

I have not had the opportunity to view the film yet, but I expect it is going to be excellent.

See The Kids Grow Up – trailer from Copacetic Pictures on Vimeo.