Six upsides of an empty nest—I hope
I'm trying to look on the bright side of my kids heading off to college.
This post is NOT POLITICAL! Hooray. I mean, Jesus, we all need a break from this shitshow, amiright? No fake executive orders, no Russian propaganda, no rainforest saving. Just life.
Back in September, I wrote about my feelings of melancholy around it being the last year of our twin offspring being home with us. The last back to school photo. The last open house night at school. The last carving pumpkins for Halloween, and decorating the Christmas tree together. The last, the last, the last.
But then, in December, a wonderful thing happened, and both kids got into their colleges of choice. (Both of which happen to be less than two hours away! Bonus!) And suddenly I didn’t feel quite so melancholy, because I was so happy and excited for them. I still am.
And then, a few weeks ago, I had a dream that one of the kids accidentally got pregnant. In this dream, she couldn’t make up her mind about whether or not to keep the baby until it was too late, so, well, she was going to have the baby. For some reason, she was still planning to go college anyway, while my husband and I took care of said baby. And in my dream, I was like OH HELL NO, this is not how I want to spend the first few years of being an empty nester.
I was so delighted when I woke up to the reality that my daughter is, as far as I know, a very un-pregnant high school senior, and that I will not be a full-time grandmother-cum-mother next year.
In a roundabout way, this dream cemented for me the fact that, as much as I am dreading and pre-grieving the fact that my children are abandoning me leaving for school next year, there are a few aspects of their departure that I am (grudgingly) looking forward to—many of which a baby would make more difficult.
I’ve been keeping a mental list of these in my head, which I return to each time I start feeling morose and lachrymose and in need of a mimos(a) about the kids’ impending flight.
Here are a few items presently on it:
I can put the red pepper flakes in the recipes that call for them. I’ve been thinking about this one for quite some time. I’m kind of a wimp when it comes to spicy things, which I blame on my pasty Anglo/Irish/German ancestry. But my kids are SUPER wimps. So I’ve always gone super easy on the heat in my cooking (I am the family chef), eliminating or majorly reducing any scary spicy things called for in recipes. But next year I’m going to ratchet it up, goshdarnit! Bring on the red pepper flakes! The cayenne! The jalapeños! (Or, no, not the jalapeños; the other, slightly less spicy ones. Let’s not go crazy now.) In fact, I can bring on all KINDS of flavors that the kids probably wouldn’t like. I’ll make recipes with things like mushrooms and zucchini and anchovies and, um…I don’t know. Bear meat! Squid Ink! Gorgonzola cheese! BWAH HA HAHAH HAH! It’s gonna be great.
On that note…Supersize Shopping will become a thing of the past. With two teenagers in our midst, we go through large quantities of food. And toilet paper. I look forward to not having to be constantly restocking our supply of yogurt, bananas, toilet paper, pasta, frozen waffles, fake meat for the vegetarian child, toilet paper, peanut butter, granola bars, apples, Annie’s Mac & Cheese, toilet paper, and toilet paper. (Note: I think one of our children, not saying who, uses way too much toilet paper.) I like to think that, instead, I will become the sort of shopper who only ever uses a hand basket, not a cart. I will not plan meals ahead for the whole week, but shop for fresh ingredients every few days, like a European or other non-American person. I will frequently be seen with a baguette under my arm. And maybe a voluminous scarf wrapped just so around my neck.
“We can travel more.” I’m putting this in quotes, because it’s something people (including us) like to say when they talk about being empty nesters as if the only thing holding them back from spontaneously jetting off to Jamaica or Thailand or the Swiss Alps all those years was the kids. As if it didn’t have anything to do with, um, NOT HAVING THE MONEY to do such things, even for just two people. We may be buying less yogurt and toilet paper once the kids leave home, but I’m pretty sure it’s not going to save us so much money that spendy weekends in Manhattan or jaunts to Bonaire are in our future. Hell, I don’t even know where Bonaire is. (Plus, um, paying for college?) Still, in theory, we will be able to do more traveling, and that’s a nice thought. The mister and I did lots of it, very well and happily, in our pre-parenting days. So, even if we just end up taking the occasional spontaneous, low-budget jaunt—an overnight at the Days Inn outside of Albany, say, or a day trip to Sturbridge Village—I know it will be excellent.
Back in the day. Florence / Albany - same difference. Special guest contribution from the mister: Our house will be cleaner. Right. So, my husband is a neatnik (and the chief everyday cleaner-upper) and is constantly tormented by the kids’ messes and clutter—especially their shoes, which have a habit of spreading across the front hall like algae. (I confess, my shoes are often part of the bloom as well.) He is also, understandably, annoyed by the fact that they frequently “forget” to put their dishes in the dishwasher—and when they do, it looks like they sorta just tossed them in, like beanbags. Beanbags covered with food residue. Personally, I don’t mind the mess and clutter that much. It comes with the parenting territory, and it’s been part of our life for 18 years. It’s evidence of the kids’ presence in our life, and think I’ll miss it when it’s gone. I tell my husband that he probably will, too, but he doesn’t believe me. I’ll keep you posted.
I will be able to focus. Like, really focus. A twin mom friend of mine, also a writer, said that this was one of the things that struck her when her kids left for college: she was able to get into the kind of deep, focused state in her writing that she used to before she became a mother. As my two kiddos have gotten older / quieter / less inclined to yell “MaMUH!!” up the stairs when I’m trying to work, I’ve certainly gotten back more writing time for myself. But the psychological static of parenting is always still there in the background, and can intrude at any minute—keeping track of schedules, figuring out the logistics of cars and rides and activities, signing permission slips, thinking up red-pepper-flake-free dinners to make every damned night. Maybe it will be nice to have less of all that bouncing around in my head. Maybe I’ll reach new heights of erudition, wit, and word count. Maybe I’ll take up meditation. Maybe I’ll even finally finish The Brothers Karamazov. (Haha. Probably not.)
Last and least: I will always be able to find the duct tape. Because it will always be exactly where I left it.
OK, give it to me, empty nesters: What are the upsides of not having kids at home? Fellow almost-empty-nesters: What are you looking forward to? How are you coping with the anticipatory grief? Do you want to come over for a marginally spicy dinner next year sometime? Please advise. And thanks as always for reading.
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After wanting to eat nothing but fish sticks, mac & cheese, Spam, and cereal her whole life, in spite of my efforts to introduce variety, my eldest came home from college all enthused about these awesome new, super-tasty foods she'd discovered. Like...tomatoes, for gawd's sake. So don't be surprised if they feel the need to school you on what a limited kind of life you have been living.
And one by one as the kids moved out, I missed the piles of their leavings for exactly zero seconds. I got my house back and time, and headspace, and, thanks to pre-grieving, maybe, but maybe not... all the sorrow I thought I'd feel never materialized. The great thing is, you now get to actually enjoy your kids in a whole different way than ever before. Fear not. The best is yet to come.
I’m not entirely an empty nester, but when my oldest was leaving for college two summers ago, I wrote a whole lot about that. It was a really fraught time for me. I can only assure you that as it turns out, there are things that change for the better beyond the exciting use of pepper flakes. (which I experienced as well, what is that?) We think of it as closing a book but really it’s just starting a new chapter to use a terribly trite cliché. You got this!
Also, wow, will you love those FaceTime calls for advice when they come in. ❤️