Sometimes I open up my blog to write a post and the words flow like water.
Sometimes I open up my blog to write and I stare at a blank screen for ages, my fingers still, yet expectant, waiting for some aberrant inspiration to strike.
This has been one of those days.
And then I realized.
I was sitting in my bed, at 11:30 in the morning on a Saturday, with my laptop, a skinny vanilla latte delivered to me by my husband and quietness all around.
This, I suddenly thought, THIS is what it is like to have an empty nest.
Now my nest is not quite empty, as you know. The Roo-girl resides here in all her 14-year-old hormonal glory, as does J-bear. Z-man will be returning to the fold at the end of May, when school is done.
But my day did not revolve around screaming babies, impatient toddlers or not-quite-as-self-sufficient-as-one-might-like grade-schoolers. The only issue that the start of Daylight Savings Time brought me was an hour lost. No one waking up at weird hours. No one unable to go to bed on time because it was still "daytime" outside. No one unable to get up because it was still dark (um, except me).
I've been afraid of the empty nest this year, as my daughter finishes her first year of high school. I know how fast it all goes. How soon my years of day-in-day-out child-rearing will be over.
But as I sat in the peace and solitude of a weekend morning, I realized that, although I will never be truly off-duty, there is something very comforting about being by myself.
Because now I DO have the time.
And the energy.
And the desire.
To define myself as something more than someone's mommy.
Who knew?

















Love, love, love this.
Posted by: Burgh Baby | March 16, 2009 at 10:56 AM
The thing is they all come back home when they get sick and need mom to wait on them hand and foot (at least Skye still does). I think the comfort is in knowing you did well by your kids and they've grown to be something you can be proud of, a sense of accomplishment. Now it's time for you to be able to dream for yourself. (Hugs) Indigo
Posted by: Indigo | March 16, 2009 at 11:14 AM
Oh, Janet, you inspire me. Really. I love my little toddler girls with my whole body and soul, but I look to the future and see mornings like you just described. It helps.
ciao,
rpm
Posted by: red pen mama | March 16, 2009 at 12:06 PM
We all look forward to the chickadees flying the coop, but when that time draws near, we don't want them to go!
Posted by: Suzanne | March 16, 2009 at 01:16 PM
I rather like this new balance between half empty and half full nest.
The not being needed every minute of every day is balanced by being able to confidently offer what is needed when the opportunities present themselves.
There's a lot to be said for "Me Time".
Posted by: Zayna | March 16, 2009 at 03:51 PM
I loved this post. Loved it. So touching, so reassuring, so loving.
As I've said, some days I see the oncoming kid-free home not so much as an empty nest, but a light at the end of the tunnel. When my eldest left, I saw her off with pride... and, I confess, a certain measure of relief. We are close; she still calls when she has a particular joy or anguish to share, she seeks my opinion now more than she did as a teen.
One down, two to go! I hope it goes as smoothly with the younger ones.
Posted by: Ilona | March 16, 2009 at 03:52 PM
Well as mother to two young toddler boys, I am slightly jealous of your 'near empty nest' status...though I have to say that despite everything I am already nostalgic for these years. I goodnaturedly complain about my current status as "mom-and-nothing-more" but am painfully aware that these years shall pass (are passing) faster than I am able to properly savour...oh the tragic blest bliss (sigh)
Posted by: MoaningMum | March 16, 2009 at 06:43 PM
As La Petite grows a little more independent of me at age 22, I worry more about Amigo. He is unlikely to move out of the nest any time soon. I sincerely hope he'll master the challenges of his disabilities and go on to live an independent life.
Posted by: Daisy | March 16, 2009 at 07:24 PM
I don't specifically recall any empty nest thoughts.
But I do recall that there was more feather tickling for awhile after it was just me and the man. heh heh.
Posted by: Pamela | March 16, 2009 at 08:56 PM
I'm actually fear the empty nest because I don't know how else to define me, and that makes me sad.
I'm happy for you that you are finding peace here.
Posted by: Kaytabug | March 16, 2009 at 10:59 PM
Thanks for putting into words what I've been feeling! I think I'll have to come back and re-read this post whenever I am feeling a bit sad about my soon-to-be empty nest.
Posted by: Carol | March 16, 2009 at 11:09 PM
I loved this post. When my oldest moved out and then got married, I worried that I wouldn't take it well, I knew I had two more at home but for one of my children to leave, I really didn't know if I would do well. I not only survived, I did very well. I am looking forward to the other boy moving...then we will out number the men....2 to 1.
Posted by: justmylife | March 16, 2009 at 11:33 PM
This makes me hopeful and sad at the same time. You're good like that.
Posted by: Janet | March 17, 2009 at 12:23 PM