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I'm planning every aspect of my son's college dorm room with the moms of his future roommates. I wonder if we've gone too far.

I'm planning every aspect of my son's college dorm room with the moms of his future roommates. I wonder if we've gone too far.
 Constantinis/Getty ImagesMy son is heading to college, so I'm in a group chat with the other moms of his future roommates.The moms are texting frequently, laying out their Amazon carts, and buying expensive kitchen tools.All the planning can get frustrating, but I know we parents are just struggling to let go.The first time I sent a son to college, move-in was simple. He shared a four-person suite. Two of his high school friends were on one side. There was a shared bathroom in the middle, and the university assigned him a roommate with the same first name. I never met that roommate and couldn't tell you his last name.The school provided most of what they needed, including furniture, a fridge, and a microwave. We added towels, bedding, a bathmat, a laundry bin, and a few basics. It was enough. They all settled in and figured it out.Now, my younger son is heading off to college. And somehow, a group text with other parents turned what should be a rite of passage into something that feels a little more like a wedding registry.The group chat started out helpfulThe dorm group chat began with a few moms. When three of our sons committed to the same university and decided to room together, one mom created a new thread called "Dorm Room Group."We invited our sons into the chat, too, but the moms kept the chat going. The boys occasionally chimed in, usually with something like: "Sup, mom."The chat was helpful at first. We shared orientation links, move-in dates, and dorm layout videos.One mom then found a Facebook post in a university parent group from a mom in Florida. She suggested we connect about making the woman's son the fourth roommate."He looks normal! Maybe we should snag him! He might take you guys to Florida to visit," she texted the group.Our sons followed him on Instagram. He ghosted them.But then came the espresso machineThe shopping picked up one summer afternoon. They started filling their Amazon carts with things I never even considered buying for my sons.They told me I should purchase a matching backup rug for the bathroom. They also informed me that they were already stocked with toilet cleaner and Scrubbing Bubbles.Then I got a text that made me a little jealous. It was a photo of one of the boys who got an espresso maker for his birthday, "for the dorm." I thought it was a bit extravagant for a dorm room; I didn't even have one in my own kitchen.But then I wondered what other kitchen appliances they might need. I've had my eye on one of those rapid egg cookers.The texts kept coming. We compared meal plans and even chose the dorm room color scheme. We discussed every aspect of our sons' future lives. They remained mostly silent throughout the chats.There's more than one way to packThe other moms in the group chat are thoughtful and involved. This is the first time they're sending a child to college, and they care. I do, too.But I've done this before and never wanted to be this involved. Maybe I'm just more hands-off or a little cheap. I sent my older son with what he needed, not a full redesign. His dorm room didn't need a theme.At one point, I texted the group: "My first roommate decorated her side of the room in clowns, and it did not occur to me to think it was weird. Or too weird, I guess."My dorm experience started in 1988. The walls were painted concrete blocks. My side had a lace-trimmed pillow, pandas, and a gorilla poster from my mom's teaching stash. The bathrooms were down the hall.It wasn't perfect, and it certainly wasn't social media-worthy, but I survived. My son will, too.They'll be fine, even if the towels don't matchMy son hasn't said much about the group chat, but I wonder if he and the other kids are overwhelmed by all the planning happening around them. I certainly get frustrated by it at times.When I suggested colors for his comforter and asked him what else he wanted, he just shrugged."I'll figure it out," he says. And I think he will.We're all just struggling with letting them go to build their own lives. What we really want, I think, is proof that they'll be OK without us.But I remind myself that they'll be fine, even if the towels don't match or no one brings an egg cooker.What they really need can't be packed in a bin — and they'll figure that out, too, just like we did.Read the original article on Business Insider

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