Empty-nesters - that's what my husband and I are. For years, we giggled with glee as visions of empty-nesthood danced before us: the utter freedom and abundance of time that would be ours when we reached that promised land; the friendships we'd finally have time to renew, the books we'd have time to read, the vacations, and on and on! Our children would be adults, on there own, responsible for their own schedules, decisions, and life. We would never have to worry about them again!
Ha! The things no one tells you. We love our children. We loved raising them and having them at home with us, but honestly, the child-rearing years are stressful. I suppose it doesn't have to be that way. There are plenty of parents who simply allow their children to co-exist in the same house, but for those who pro-actively mold their children's characters, teach them, work with them, attempt to be a vital influence in their life in hopes that somehow their influence will be stronger than that of Hollywood's, the media's, and their friends' is overwhelming. It's a minute by minute, hour by hour, year by year, 24/7/365 job. Let's face it, it's exhausting.
It's no wonder parents, with drooling mouths, look forward to the empty-nest years. I'm sorry to tell you this, but it's a fallacy. Not completely of course. You're no longer "on" 24/7. That much is true, and that, in and of itself, is a huge stress-reliever. Your time though is still full. While parenting and working full time, you have to refine multi-tasking to an art form, smooshing together a vast multitude of tasks every evening: making dinner while helping with homework, while coordinating next week's field trip while baking cupcakes for tomorrow's Halloween party, while answering questions yelled to you from the other end of the house by your husband and/or other child(ren). As empty-nesters, you forego the homework help and field trip coordination, but you still have to make dinner, bake something for the office birthday party, coordinate meals for friend who just had surgery, and answer questions yelled to you from the other end of the house. I didn't expect life to still feel so busy - not bursting at the seams, ready to explode busy - but busy.
For me, the biggest surprise of all has been that, although I no longer see my children everyday, I no longer have to answer seemingly zillions of questions about life, love, and homework, and I am no longer their go-to person for everything, still, they are with me every moment of everyday and not only the children I gave birth to, but their spouses as well. My thoughts are never far from them and my heart? Well, my heart is hopelessly entangled with theirs. When they are glad, I am glad with them. When they rejoice in some victory, I rejoice with them. When life is hard, stern, unyielding, and unforgiving, I cry with them. My heart aches with theirs.
When they were teenagers, I said many times, "All I wanted was a baby. No one every told me they'd turn into teenagers!" Neither did anyone ever tell me that once I held that first tiny bundle in my arms all those years ago that I would be ruined, that my heart would never be mine again, that no matter how many years go by, my heart would feel their joys and sorrows even more acutely than it feels its own.
I'm not complaining. On the contrary, my heart is full to bursting, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
Ha! The things no one tells you. We love our children. We loved raising them and having them at home with us, but honestly, the child-rearing years are stressful. I suppose it doesn't have to be that way. There are plenty of parents who simply allow their children to co-exist in the same house, but for those who pro-actively mold their children's characters, teach them, work with them, attempt to be a vital influence in their life in hopes that somehow their influence will be stronger than that of Hollywood's, the media's, and their friends' is overwhelming. It's a minute by minute, hour by hour, year by year, 24/7/365 job. Let's face it, it's exhausting.
It's no wonder parents, with drooling mouths, look forward to the empty-nest years. I'm sorry to tell you this, but it's a fallacy. Not completely of course. You're no longer "on" 24/7. That much is true, and that, in and of itself, is a huge stress-reliever. Your time though is still full. While parenting and working full time, you have to refine multi-tasking to an art form, smooshing together a vast multitude of tasks every evening: making dinner while helping with homework, while coordinating next week's field trip while baking cupcakes for tomorrow's Halloween party, while answering questions yelled to you from the other end of the house by your husband and/or other child(ren). As empty-nesters, you forego the homework help and field trip coordination, but you still have to make dinner, bake something for the office birthday party, coordinate meals for friend who just had surgery, and answer questions yelled to you from the other end of the house. I didn't expect life to still feel so busy - not bursting at the seams, ready to explode busy - but busy.
For me, the biggest surprise of all has been that, although I no longer see my children everyday, I no longer have to answer seemingly zillions of questions about life, love, and homework, and I am no longer their go-to person for everything, still, they are with me every moment of everyday and not only the children I gave birth to, but their spouses as well. My thoughts are never far from them and my heart? Well, my heart is hopelessly entangled with theirs. When they are glad, I am glad with them. When they rejoice in some victory, I rejoice with them. When life is hard, stern, unyielding, and unforgiving, I cry with them. My heart aches with theirs.
When they were teenagers, I said many times, "All I wanted was a baby. No one every told me they'd turn into teenagers!" Neither did anyone ever tell me that once I held that first tiny bundle in my arms all those years ago that I would be ruined, that my heart would never be mine again, that no matter how many years go by, my heart would feel their joys and sorrows even more acutely than it feels its own.
I'm not complaining. On the contrary, my heart is full to bursting, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
Lori,
ReplyDeleteI loved your post and I understand completely. There are just more to love and to worry about. Although, I wouldn't change it for anything. Let's get together soon. Bev
Coming from the voice that "yells from the other end of the house," let it be known that this is the very reason mothers (and wives too!)are to be held in such high regard.
ReplyDeleteThank you, my dear, for loving us so very, very well!!