Expressway: Kids go from crib to college at warp speed

Fish gotta swim. Birds gotta fly. And Long Island's 18-year-olds have to go off to college.

Many of them, anyway. And so every August a new group of parents sends their baby boys or girls on to the next phases of their lives.

The irony is that even though most parents work toward this moment from the instant their bundles of joy enter this world, the actual transition still seems sudden and traumatic.

It becomes doubly so when the child going off to college is the youngest. This is the case for my wife, Sharon, and me. As tough as it was to see our older son Alex go off Long Island to college in 2008, we knew we still had four more years of Babylon High School issues and teacher conferences involving our younger son, Max.

Now Alex lives and works in New York City. Max starts college classes on Monday in Tampa, Fla. As Max, his mother and I parted ways in the campus parking lot this past Wednesday, we tried to keep the boo-hooing to a minimum. After all, nobody likes to see big men cry (Max is 6 feet, 8 inches tall and I'm 6 feet 4), and Sharon and I figure if our grandmothers survived sending their sons off to fight in World War II, we can manage delivering our son to Florida to go to class and play baseball.

So now the boys are out of the house and what they make of their lives is out of our hands. But the quiet of the empty nest is deafening. Thank God for the dog and our walks around Argyle Lake.

Since nature abhors a vacuum, there's no doubt our focus will turn to our relationship and what happens if playing "catch me, catch me" around the dining room table ever gets old. I am confident we'll pull through, even though there's no more blaming the kids for the empty toilet paper roll, the disappearing cookies or the nearly empty milk container in the fridge.

Here's the real problem with the empty-nest syndrome: Nobody wants to hear about it.

Older couples have already gone through it and see it for what it is: a temporary problem solved simply by getting on with your lives.

Younger couples especially don't want to hear about it, because right now they would kill to be able to sleep through the night. Peace and quiet would be a blessing, not a curse.

Here's another thing young couples don't want to hear: Warnings about "how fast it all goes."

If Sharon and I tell our neighbor with the four young children to "savor the moments" one more time, she's going to get a restraining order. We can't help ourselves, however. Only a few years ago, we were there, juggling responsibilities and activities, standing on the sidelines of countless travel-team tournaments that took us from Yaphank to Glen Cove -- and left us wondering why Long Island's high taxes never go toward public bathroom maintenance.

As experienced parents, we realize now how pointless it was to worry whether we were doing everything we could to ensure our boys' success. To young parents, we suggest: Do the best you can, trust your gut and make sure your kid knows you love him or her every day.

So please be patient with us, young moms and dads. Simply nod your head when we start in. Besides, before you know it, you'll be on the other side of this conversation. Trust me. It goes fast.

Reader Michael Watt lives in Babylon.