The challenge of the first winter vacation.

By Marion Franck

When you look at this calendar, please don’t laugh. It took a lot of family negotiation to share this information, and although it all happened two years ago, I still find it embarrassing.

That’s because it contains the naked truth.

Our family had a hard time the first year our daughter came home from college for winter vacation. Looking at the document today, I see a parent’s heartache and a daughter trying very hard to please.

How did we get into this mess?

It started with my daughter’s college, which sent her home for a whole month. That sounded like plenty of time, but two weeks into it, I felt as if I’d hardly seen her. Realizing her parents were unhappy about that, our daughter called a family meeting, and this document resulted. It details meals mostly, including one family meal that pointedly excludes her boyfriend.

Ah, that was the rub. Not only was our daughter dividing her precious holidays between her family and friends, but she was also reveling in the reunion with her boyfriend after months of aching long distance.

In the end, things worked out. My daughter greeted old high school friends on their arrival and feted them upon their departure. She traveled to Tahoe to spend time in the snow with her boyfriend and his family. We ate the meals listed on the calendar, nearly exactly as planned, and I even got the massage.

I know it doesn’t look this way, but I also learned to let go a bit, and my expectations for subsequent holidays weren’t as demanding. Nowadays I take pleasure in connecting with many young people, my daughter’s circle and the UC Davis students who help me write my stories for Aggie Family Pack (a newsletter and Web site for parents of freshmen). They’ve told me a lot about the first winter vacation.

FIRST DAYS AT HOME

Surprises and disappointments happen on both sides.

“I felt like a visitor in my own house,” says Katie Sheldon, a junior. “My house was the same, but I was different. I felt like I had experienced SO much, and there was no way I could express everything I had done.”

“My mom got really mad at me,” laughs tall, lanky Matt Cooley, a sophomore. “Just ’cause I brought in two sacks of laundry. I thought she’d be happy to do my laundry. Apparently, that’s a myth.”

Tension also arises over social engagements.

College freshmen who arrive home wearing the red shoes of freedom, expecting to click their heels and do the town, encounter parents who still live in Kansas.

“In Davis, it was a rare night that I wasn’t out past midnight,” says senior Greg Sneed. “Although my parents were very lenient, they wanted to know where I was going and what I was doing. . . . This caused some words between us.”

Even staying home can be difficult. “My parents said, ‘You’re sleeping this late! What’s wrong with you? What did they do to you at that school?’” says Sheldon.

I remember the sleeping part. My daughter arrived home as if she’d crossed the country on foot instead of in an airplane. Our house became a mausoleum where everyone tiptoed because Beth was sleeping. I blamed final exams and college bedtime, which never occurs before midnight, but I wasn’t gracious. I wanted her awake.

SERIOUS ISSUES

Students agree that the push and pull between friends and family is very stressful. “Everyone wants to see you as soon as you get home,” says sophomore Jon Gire, and sometimes reunions lead to new problems. High school friends have changed; their sense of humor may be different or their attitude toward alcohol and drugs. “My relationship broke up,” offers Tim Helms, a junior, shaking his head as if he were still bewildered.

Inadvertently, parents can make things worse. “We don’t have our grades back yet, but that’s the first thing some parents ask about. That causes a lot of anxiety with students,” observes junior Chelsea Robinette.

Some difficult moments are unavoidable. Jon observed more gray hair on his grandparents and felt the weight of passing time. “I look around and, wow, I’m almost 20.”

THE GOOD STUFF

Smiles broaden when the conversation turns to food.

“My mother treated me as if I’d been malnourished. I walked in the door and she said, ‘What do you want to eat?’” reports Priscilla Moreno.

“They baby me,” says Eva Gut, a sophomore. “I’m lying on the couch, and I want a glass of water. They go get it. Anything for me!”

“My parents did a lot for me,” agrees Justin Rau, from Livermore. They said, “Do you need any food? Do you need any clothes? And they want to go to Cosco. They want to go to Penney’s.”

CHANGES AT HOME

While basking in the pleasure of being fussed over, college freshmen also observe changes, from the takeover of their room by office furniture or gym equipment (nobody likes this) to tiny alterations in other parts of the house. My daughter wasn’t sure she approved of the thicker needles on the Christmas tree we’d bought without her.

Senior Kenny McCanless told me, in an all-caps e-mail, “THERE WERE DRESSES IN MY CLOSET. I pretended to freak out.”

“It still felt like my room,” says Justin Rau, despite a smattering of new office furniture. “But I didn’t feel I lived in Livermore. I didn’t feel I lived in Davis. I felt like I kind of lived in both places.”

Chelsea Robinette echoes his disorientation. Home felt like home—but not quite. “‘Where’s the cookie sheet again, Mom?’ ‘Oh, we moved it, honey.’”

NEW THOUGHTS

At the same time, distance brings new perspective. Chelsea says, “Before I left I was kicking and screaming like ‘Get me out of this house now! I’m an independent woman!’ After only three months away, I was, ‘Can you take my laundry? Mom, can we cuddle?’ You miss the little things you overlooked. Detergent is expensive. Shampoo is expensive. Laundry doesn’t smell the same when you do it.”

Some students plunge into another dilemma: They want old routines, but a new persona.

“I came home with the expectation that I needed to be something bigger, like I needed to have matured in three months away,” says Chelsea. “I needed to be that wise college student who listens to slow music and reads poetry for fun. I bought a guitar.”

Despite uncertainties about themselves, students often become better observers of their parents. Tim Helms says, “Before, they’re just your parents. Now you notice they have opinions. I was curious about them. I opened up more and so did they.”

It’s complicated, that first long holiday at home. Some students relax easily into old relationships, but others encounter breakups and changes. Most welcome holiday activities, but they also want to sleep. Everybody grins about food. Given a chance to send advice to parents who might read this article, students agree that they have a lot of freedom at school and they want it at home.

But the struggle to claim adulthood is not the thought that lingers. Instead, I hear tales of love and longing, the kind of thing that led to my family’s calendar and to Justin Rau’s account of the last hours of his vacation.

“My parents said, ‘Maybe you should wait until 9 p.m., after all the traffic’s cleared out.’ They hold on to every last hour they can possibly keep me at home.”

Tim, sitting quietly near Justin, speaks up. “My mom still cries every time I leave.”

Heads nod.

“Yeah, mine too.”

Marion Franck, the parent of a college junior and a high school senior, is a Davis writer and regular contributor to campus publications for parents.