Ambivalence is a word coined specifically for parents of college students. On one hand you are so proud, so excited, so relieved and then there are those other feelings of worry, concern, envy, jealousy and relief. Did I say " relief " before? Your feelings are of course mirrored by your son's or daughter's feelings of excitement, anticipation, new world order, independence, "free at last, free at last" and those conflicting feelings of worry, concern, fear of failure, "what if no one likes me?" or "what if I can't hack it?"

These feelings are applicable in families whether this is the first coed in her freshman year or the last coed in graduate school. Mix these feelings together a few weeks before and after registration day, and you have an emotional roller coaster for the entire family. Even the family dog and cat can be found cowering under the sofa during this time. The raw emotional power that is involved with the teen moving out of the family sphere makes for a great deal of adjustment. During this time parents are frequently trying to get in any last bit of information they may have neglected to convey in the last eighteen years, and the newly-graduated senior is throwing out any and all rules that obviously have passed their expiration dates. After all, they keep saying, "I'll have to make all of these decisions on my own when I go to college." It's reminiscent of the toddler days when the child is rapidly throwing off all articles of protective clothing as parents are frantically trying to put them on.

Luckily, many of these feelings are covered up or shunted to the side by the preparations for this new world voyage.

Has there ever been a generation better provisioned for this journey into adulthood? What with the computer to the world, refrigerator, microwave, stereo, TV-VCR, and phones, college dorm rooms are better furnished than most fall-out shelters. Even the preparations abound with conflicting opinions of what is essential for a successful year at college. Every member of the family has at least one item to contribute to the list of essentials - that store of emergency food rations from mom, tool chest from dad, CD's from siblings, hot water bottle from aunt Bea - until family members are carefully packaged to the mini-van ceiling with essential items.

The chaos that meets the beleaguered family at campus resembles a plush refugee camp as thousands of vehicles with shocks resting on axles maneuver to offload their passengers and essential items. Dazed, sweating dads are every- where doing the work of yeomen moving the monstrous pile of belongings up three flights of stairs and down endless hallways to assemble loft beds, stereo cabinets, computers and desks. Meanwhile, mothers help organize, put finishing touches on room decor, scouting the potential of neighboring residents, guiding their charges through the maze of carefully organized registration mayhem and helping ensconce their student into their new environments.

Finally, it is time to say good-bye. Dads trying not to tear up, look at their watch and say something like "we better go before we hit traffic". Mothers tearing but trying to minimize the frequency and volume of their sobs run through their mental lists of everything that needed to be done hoping for one last unfinished chore. The young person who is the center of all this emotional upheaval waves half-heartedly over their shoulder as they get directions from that guy with the tatoos and pierced facial parts to the first round of parties that night.

This story will repeat itself twice a year, (hopefully for only four years) and the emotions will diminish as maturity sets in and the student gets smarter too. There will be those endless questions such as "If she can instant message her friends then why can't I get an email?" And if you do get an email "Why is it post marked at 3 a.m.?" but that is another story.