‘Do you want my advice, or do you just want me to listen?’

We sat there in the meeting room, chairs facing forward, and recited the phrase several times:

“Honey, do you want my advice, or do you just want me to listen?”

It was the first day of freshman orientation at a local university. While our children were off with their “transition mentors,” touring the campus and meeting future classmates, the moms and dads sat in a conference room and learned about the dangers of meningitis and student loan debt.

Our children — now adults, our hosts reminded us over and over — would have to learn to figure things out on their own. They were separating from us, literally and figuratively, and this summer would be a good time to develop some new parenting strategies.

The goal: Move from doing to coaching and, eventually, to watching from the sidelines.

You may get a lot of texts, one presenter told us. Modern college students can be in touch with their folks 24/7, unlike back in our college years, when staying in touch meant a weekly phone call from the common phone in the dorm hallway.

Some of the texts may sound desperate, demanding, even panicked, she said. Do yourself and your (adult) child a favor, and don’t respond right away. Give them a chance to figure it out on their own.

If they call in a tizzy over a failed test or a parking ticket or a bounced check or a burned pizza, pause for a minute and take a breath. Then say that line you practiced at freshman orientation:

“Honey, do you want my advice, or do you just want me to listen?”

Though we understood the point, many of us chuckled at the thought. For 18 years, we’ve been doling out reminders, instructions and advice like Gordon Ramsay in Hell’s Kitchen:

Don’t you have a test tomorrow? When is that paper due? Are your band clothes clean for Thursday’s concert?

Set your alarm. Water the plants. Don’t put that sweater in the dryer. Get the oil changed. Pick up your prescription.

Many of us were still cooking our kids’ meals and doing their laundry. Some clearly monitored grades via websites or smartphone apps as well, calling or emailing teachers to advocate on their children’s behalf. When one speaker noted that student privacy laws prohibit college instructors from discussing grades with anyone but the student, a few eyes grew wide.

Another line to practice with our (adult) children: “Talk to your teacher.”

Go to class. Turn in your work. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.

Every semester, at least one parent will call university police to track down a student who hasn’t called home in a while.

“They’ll say, ‘She always checks in, so something must be wrong,’” the campus police chief said.

Police can check on students, but don’t expect a call back detailing their whereabouts, she said. “What we try to do is encourage them to call mom and dad. ‘Let them know you’re OK.’”

Looking around the room, it struck me that college orientation wasn’t so different from Kindergarten Roundup, when we enrolled our kids in school for the first time and looked to experts for advice and guidance. This crowd looked little older and grayer, and there was decidedly more talk about money, but the mood and tone were the same.

Here we go. Do your best. Remember the ultimate goal: Raise kind, confident, self-sufficient human beings.

The highlight of my day was lunch with other parents, when we shared stories over grilled cheese and fries. Most of our (adult) children stayed with their friends; some waved casually from across the dining hall.

I came away with a lot of good advice. But I really just wanted somebody to listen.

This story was originally published June 11, 2016 at 7:30 AM with the headline "‘Do you want my advice, or do you just want me to listen?’."