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.