It’s not often I welcome a text at 3am updating me on someone’s karaoke song choice. But when that someone is my son and he’s in some country or other that isn’t Ireland, and he’s chosen a Michael Jackson number to belt out to the point he’s now voiceless, because as he maintains, he’s “just like his mother”, I’m glad of the ping.I mean it’s not like I’ve been sleeping properly anyway. My son is travelling around Europe – you know, this whole interrailing malarkey – with a bunch of friends, who I suspect are equally poorly equipped to figure out the workings of a foreign washing machine. And my nerves are basically gone.Yes, they’re fully grown, adults. But that is part of the problem. Fully grown adults with the right to make their own decisions and choices. And the first one I’d question in his case was his song choice. There were plenty in MJ’s catalogue that may have suited his vocal range better. But anyway, he’s staying in touch – a bit. I mean there’s not a huge number of photographs coming in that aren’t just the back of his head and so offer me no visible solace that he hasn’t got a contact lens stuck in one eye, or is sporting a questionable tattoo. But I have tried to cover all bases.“Dearest son. I love you and miss you,” I texted, about five hours after he’d headed to Dublin Airport. “Please try to make good choices. But if you very stupidly and unwisely decide to get a tattoo, please check all spellings with me first,” I continued, figuring he might have a beer or two while he was away. I had done all I could, I decided. I’d prepared for every eventuality. It was in the lap of the gods and the grammar police now. I can’t decide if this is worse than the Leaving Cert holiday. It’s certainly longer. And I feel every minute of it. But do I feel it to the same intense level I felt every single minute and second of his Leaving Cert holiday? Possibly not. And maybe that, in part, is because it’s not his first time away without me. Or maybe it’s because I learned a few tips and tricks along the Leaving Cert holiday way. And so I would like to impart some of this wisdom on those Leaving Cert parents whose heads are filled with thoughts of Albuifeira, Zante, and the like.Set up a new WhatsApp groupNo seriously. Sometimes there really is a case to be made for another WhatsApp group. Include in it the parents of your Leaving Cert holidayer’s friends. Misery loves company. But more importantly, this is a place for sharing titbits of information and revelatory texts from your child – you know the “ok” responses you receive after texting them a multiple paragraph long message saying how much you love them and how proud you are to be their parent. “Ok” is not a two-letter response. It’s what those of us who have served some time in the Leaving Cert holiday trenches refer to as “a confirmed sighting”. Confirmed sightings of any and all students should always be shared in the WhatsApp group. As should any mention of sun cream. It helps parents paint a picture of the general level of cop on and wellbeing evident in the group.Be prepared to sell out your principles for informationIn other words, if another parent can see online where their child is and you have on numerous occasions publicly criticised the practice of tracking grown adults, say nothing and find out if their offspring is with your son or daughter. Depending on where this confirms them to be, it may bring you a few minutes of peaceful sleep. Help with the packingI know, an outrageous suggestion and them grown-ups, allegedly. But they don’t necessarily need to know. Slip a packet of plasters, box of paracetamol, and a bottle of after-sun lotion into the bag and your work here is done. A few more minutes of peaceful sleep were granted on account of being an excellent parent. Or at the very least, it’ll make you feel a bit better if a minor emergency were to occur.SugarStock up on chocolate. Lots of it. For you. There are few situations in life that can’t be improved somewhat by a Mint Crisp.In the knowRemind them before they go to try and make good choices. But let them know also that if they don’t – and let’s be honest, young people have made daft choices since the dawn of time – you’ll be there. And you will help. Even if they get an earful. Because you love them. And that trumps everything.