I have recently fallen in love with Saturday mornings. Anyone with children knows that Saturdays tend to be as hectic as a weekday. You get up early, maybe do some housecleaning before you run to the grocery store or take the kids to whatever activities they have going on that day. Then, your kids hit the point where they can drive themselves to their activities, but as their mom you are still obligated to attend. However, not too long after that, they reach a point where they no longer have activities for you to attend. At that point, you wake up on a Saturday morning and think, “Wow, I have nothing going on today.” Although I work nights at my part-time job on the weekends, I am currently at that point, and I don’t feel guilty admitting that I’m enjoying it. I wake up on Saturday mornings, go to yoga class, and then go run the causeway spanning across the river. Often, I am rewarded for my efforts with the sight of dolphins playing in the water. Occasionally, after I’ve put in all that hard work burning calories, I’ll stop at the local coffee shop and enjoy what they call an iced heroin (with skim milk AND whipped cream. A girl’s gotta have priorities!) At those moments, I feel so refreshed, in tune with myself, and at peace with the world around me. If your children are currently at a stage in your life where Saturdays are a whirlwind, don’t worry – your time will come. It will happen faster than you could ever imagine, though, so cherish your time with them while you can. For those who are facing those empty Saturdays, use them to find yourself again. Go for a run, take that painting class, or curl up in the hammock and read a book. Above all, don’t feel guilty for being happy to have those moments back to yourself. You deserve them. Namaste.
Category: Parenting, Empty Nest
Lessons from the Dorm
It has been awhile since my last post. That is because I have been out of state collecting my daughter from college. The whole process of moving your child either in or out of a dorm is sure-fire way to realize the ways she has become an adult…and the ways she has not. I have been reminding my daughter for over a month that she needed to get all of her things packed. Last year, it was a mad dash at the last second. She had waited until finals week to start and was scrambling around trying to finish projects, study for tests, and pack a year’s worth of items in a single week. Not the best plan. This year, I kept telling her that we didn’t want a repeat of last year. She assured me that we wouldn’t. “I’ve got it, Mom.” Famous last words. When I arrived to her dorm this year, she had even less packed than she had last year. On top of that, she owned a lot more to pack than she had last year. So, once again, there was the scramble to get everything done in the allotted time frame. Ultimately, everything was packed, the U-haul cargo van was loaded, and the storage unit was once again filled to the brim. The process was exhausting. However, I had the opportunity to meet her friends and see my daughter in what has become her natural habitat. I listened as she discussed her school and her adventures. I listened as she talked about the ups and downs of living in Michigan. I went with her to see her first apartment – she picked it out and signed the lease. I am amazed and proud that this young woman is my daughter. She is intelligent, capable, and vivacious. Yet, her insecurities and vulnerabilities; her frantic “I need your help” texts; and occasional teary-eyed phone calls also remind me that she is still growing and maturing. I haven’t completely lost my little girl; I have started to gain a cherished friend.
The Almost-Empty Nest
Of all the hats I wear, being a mom is the most important one. My children are my everything. They are the reasons behind everything I do, every decision I make. I was married at 18 and had my daughter soon afterward. My son came along two years and four months later, just as we planned it. Contrary to what many people thought at the time, my kids weren’t “oops” babies. Their births were planned precisely, much to my mother’s chagrin. I was young, in love, and knew that I had a list of goals a mile long that I wanted to accomplish. I was worried if I didn’t have children early, I would get so caught up in pursuing those goals that I would “forget” to have kids. I can honestly say, even though we were really poor for a really long time, it was the best decision I ever made. Furthermore, I have met each goal I created by the milestones I had predetermined oh, so long ago. I take pride in my accomplishments but am even more proud of the young adults my children have grown to be. I now find myself at the verge of having an empty nest. My daughter is finishing her second year of college, so she has one foot in the nest and the other one on the branch. She is poised to fly, and I realize it more each day. My son is graduating in less than a month. He is going into the Air Force, and I just found out that he earned an ASVAB score high enough to guarantee him pretty much any job he would like. As if all this growing up wasn’t enough, I will be celebrating my 40th birthday later this year. I really just want to stop the clock and have some time to savor this moment because everything is happening so fast. When my daughter went off to school, I was hit with the realization that our relationship would change drastically- that although she technically still called our family house her home, it would never be the same. I understand that a little deeper each time she’s home on a break from school. The house is a little cleaner, special menu items are cooked, my regular schedule is interrupted (and I am sometimes a little aggravated by it). These are the types of issues that should occur when house guests arrive, or out-of-town relatives, not my own kid. But then, I remember. My kid IS an out-of-town relative. As if that’s not mind-boggling enough, now my son is about to join her. My son, who at his birth I knew would be my last baby. My son, who grew up being told that he would always be my baby (a statement that now causes him to grimace). His exit from the nest will be much more severe. Not only is there not another child still at home for me to focus all my attention on, but he will be at the beck and call of the Armed Forces. There will be the added stress and worry of where he gets sent and what will face him when he gets there. I want to stop time. Since I can’t, I will treasure every second I possibly can while I have them. My daughter is halfway through college, my son is about to leave home, and I’m on the brink of 40. Thank goodness running is cheaper than therapy…but we’ll talk about that next time.
Words from the Long Run 