With arms wide open, empty-nester Susan Fosco happily welcomed all four of her college-attending kids home for the summer this month.
But those same open arms quickly twisted into a shocked “WTF?” pose upon having to contend with their late hours, big messes and even bigger appetites — peccadillos they acquired while away at school.
“They’re like the roommates from hell,” Fosco, 54, from Denver, Colorado, told The Post of daughter Hailey, 24, a recent San Diego State University grad, twins girls Reese and Rylee, 20, rising juniors at California colleges and son Rich, 19, a junior at Colorado State University.
“The chaos was a shock to my stem,” said Fosco, whose tots-turned-tornados are staying out late, sleeping in past 2:00 p.m., raiding the refrigerator and cabinets for food, leaving dirty dishes lying around and welcoming “an endless stream of friends coming in and out of the house at all hours of the night.”
The married mom, a special education teacher, isn’t alone. Many peeved parents are currently overwhelmed (and in some cases, overrun) by the drastic changes in behavior, attitude and lifestyle their children adopted as footloose and fancy-free spirits on campus.
It’s a transformation Yamalis Diaz, a NYU Langone Health psychologist, says often causes a “tug-of-war” between parents and youngsters on the verge of “emerging adulthood.”
“During this developmental stage, kids are transitioning out of adolescence and into adulthood,” Diaz explained to The Post.
“They’re exploring self-identity and seeking independence from their mothers and fathers, which can cause conflicts,” she continued, “especially when these young adults leave the dorms and come home to rules and boundaries.”
To bridge the gap, Diaz suggests there be a little give and take from both sides, creating peanut butter and jelly-like harmony.
“Parents can use the ‘love-sandwich approach,” said the pro, championing the layered communication strategy.
“Start the conversation by telling them how proud they’ve made you, then establish your expectations of them during school break,” she advised. “Close by coming to an agreement that’s required some flexibility, understanding and perspective-sharing from both parties.”
It’s a hack Fosco’s turning to for help.
The self-professed “helicopter mom” — a well-meaning, yet overbearing mama bear — recently talked with her brood about the dos and don’ts of being home.
“I told them I’m so happy to have them back, then set my general expectations for what our summer together needs to look like,” she said.
First, each member of Fosco’s flock must get a summer job and commit to doing volunteer work — criteria her crew’s fulfilling sans protest.
But when it comes to certain social limitations, the freewheeling foursome has kicked up some dust.
“We’ve agreed that there will be no overnight guests or people hanging out after 11:00 p.m. during the week,” Fosco said. “They don’t have curfews, but they should let me know what they’re doing [while out late with friends].”
“Everyone has to clean up after themselves and respect my house,” she added, “and double check that their midnight snack isn’t something I’ve set aside for tomorrow night’s dinner.”
And although she’s received some pushback from her Gen Z pack, Fosco’s looking forward to finding a happy medium before fall semester starts.
“One of my 20-year-olds is challenging a lot of my rules, so we’ve been bumping heads,” she said. “But I respect her as an intelligent young woman, and hope we find that common ground and mutual respect.”
Lyndsey Stamper, 49, a mom of two from Kansas, hopes the same for herself and son Hank, 19 — fresh off his freshman year at an in-state university three hours away from home.
“He left as this sweet boy who followed all my house rules,” Stamper, a high school substitute teacher and content creator, told The Post of her 6-foot-8, 250-pound pup. “And he came home this independent man who thinks he knows everything.”
The teen’s know-it-all nerve has manifested into a “disruptive” pattern of staying out past midnight, failing to update Stamper and her hubby about his whereabouts after hours and sprinkling explicit four-letter words into otherwise family-friendly chats.
Stamper fears her youngest son, Harley, 15, might be appropriating his big brother’s newfound naughtiness over the next three months.
“No one prepares you for this change,” she groaned, admitting that her inability to see eye-to-eye with Hank — who she describes as a “good kid” studying animal science — has resulted in several heated arguments with elevated tones and slammed doors.
But the amends-making mom says she and her soon-to-be sophomore are both making behavioral adjustments in the name of peace.
“He’s becoming more receptive to my guidance, and I’m learning to respect him as a 19-year-old who’s free to do what he wants outside of my house,” said Stamper. “Our goal is to enjoy this time together. But the world doesn’t revolve around him and these new habits.”
Where love-sandwich convos and compromises fall short, Lori Altermann, a married mother of two recent college graduates, says bribes do the trick.
“I say, ‘If you clean up this mess, I’ll take us out to lunch and pay,’ or ‘I’ll pay for us to get our nails done if you load the dishwasher,'” the 56-year-old beauty and comedy influencer, from Philadelphia, tells The Post.
“When they’re not home, my house is as a clean as a museum,” bragged the neat-freak, whose daughters Ally, 25, and Cami, 22, junk up her pristine palace with clothes, food, furniture and friends once classes are over.
She’s even had to put up with them coming in after 3:00 a.m. or casually cracking open a can of beer during family quality time.
“That’s a totally different experience for me as a mom,” said Altermann, who’s working to strike a healthy balance between being a parent and a pal to her little girls now that they’re adults who’ve crossed their academic finish lines.
“I know what it’s like to be young and free. And I’m grateful for the friendship we share,” Altermann added. “But I’m still a mother and this is still my home. So, unless they’re paying the mortgage, what I say still goes.
Nicole Coates, 39, echoed similar sentiments.
And, thankfully, she and daughter Marie, 21, a college junior, are getting along swimmingly this hot season. Rather than exchanging fire in spats over house rules, as they’ve done during summer vacations past, the twosome has learned to “give each other grace.”
“I have to remember what it was like to be in my 20s,” Coates, a married mom of four and parenting coach, tells The Post. “I was only thinking about myself, not texting my mom about where I’m going or what I’m doing.”
She recognizes that Marie will eventually move out of the house for good, and hopes the strides they’re making this year last for a lifetime.
“I’m accepting that she’s independent and in a self-exploration phase right,” Coates continued. “That acceptance will help us happily coexist for the summer and for years to come.”