The Almost Empty Nester

Friday, September 8, 2017

Moving Forward

I'm in the airport waiting for my second flight of the day to take me home. The Girl Child and I had a fantastic trip last week. A two day road trip to bring her car back to college. It was relaxing and filled with music and lots of laughter. We were grateful to get to our destination, however. There's only so many hours you want to be cramped in a car. For me, anyway.

We had a full day before she could move into her dorm so we went and got stuff out of the storage bin she'd rented for the summer. We did a Target run. And basically crammed her car and my rented SUV as full as we could.

Then we waited…

I honestly believe that in this whole Almost Empty Nest gig, the waiting is the hardest part. We felt that way last summer. She was all packed and ready and we spent a week just staring at boxes, crying, and anxiously waiting for the the next thing, as sad as we knew it would make us, actually doing something was easier than waiting.
We didn't have as long to wait this time, but still. She wanted to be on campus with her friends. She wanted to be moving in, moving forward.

Because, no matter how scary the unknowns can be, being stagnant is no fun.


There weren't as many unknowns this year, and yet we talked about the weird combination of what is familiar to her and what is still uncertain. Yes, she has made friends and knows professors and knows the campus. But it's a new dorm, new classes, and new experiences.

She Snapchatted me this morning as I waited for my first flight. She started classes this morning and all went well. She's back in the gym working out and trying to get settled. And yet she told me she already feels a little homesick. Her dad, her brothers, and myself - we are her home. We are what is familiar. And my Mama Heart got all warm and fuzzy inside.

Because she will fly, she will move forward, but she will always have a home.



I think that's the best gift we can give our kids who fly the nest. The guarantee that they will always, always have a place to land. They always have a home. I believe that's a huge part of what gives her the courage to test her wings. She's got backup.


I shed a few tears as I hugged her and drove away from campus, but to be honest, they were mostly proud tears. This precious Girl Child is doing it - she's living her life, venturing into being a grown-up, and she's moving forward. My Mama Heart misses her so very much, but I could not be more proud I get to call this amazing human my child.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

College: Round Two

We have one week left until the Girl Child goes back to college. It's been a whirlwind, amazing summer filled with trips to Italy...


 and Colorado...


 as well as a few weeks of family time at Lake Tahoe.


 This will be The Girl Child's last summer home. She wants to live where she goes to school starting next summer. So we wanted to milk this time with her and have a summer of tons of fun.

And we did.

But our time together is coming to an end.

And the sadness that overwhelmed me last year is knocking at the door of my heart. I'm familiar with it now. I'm not even opposed to opening the door and allowing it to come in. I know that she's doing what she's supposed to do. Fly the nest. Live her life.

But it doesn’t mean that change doesn't hurt.
Because it really, really does.

For whatever crazy reason, I thought round two would be easier. We've experienced 8 months without her living here at home with us. We have a sense of our "new normal." And in some ways the pain this time around is muted. But it's still there. Knowing what to expect helps. A little.

But I’m still sad.

And I’m learning to let myself be sad. That it's okay. Change is hard. It's also good. As much as it pains me to admit that, it's true. These changes are good ones.


I'm excited to have a road trip with her as we drive back to school. I'm excited for that time with her. And I'm excited to watch her fly again. I am. I'm just praying that the goodbyes in round two are graicous and kind. I could use some of that right now.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

I Want To Be My Age

I've always considered myself confident. I grew up in a home where who you are on the inside was more important than how you look on the outside.

Don't get me wrong, I was raised by a mother who deems how one presents themselves to the world is important, but even as a teenage girl, if I was seen without makeup I didn't care. "This is me. Take it or leave it," was my main attitude. It still is.


And I feel I've raised my daughter the same way. She's extremely assertive and confident. She walks tall, all six feet of her.

But let's face it, it's tough to be a woman in this day and age. Where we used to only have to see photoshopped women on magazine covers in the grocery store line, we now can find them everywhere thanks to our handy dandy phones and social media.

And I'm just as guilty as the next woman of following Instagram pages on health, exercise and food, not to mention Pinterest and blogs. But I'm seeing a trend that concerns me.

Young women my daughter's age feel that to keep up, their media sites need to have pictures of them looking like models. Everything is posed and filtered and "perfected." And in truth it's not just her age group. I do it too.

We went to a concert last night. As I was getting ready I was trying to decide if I should wear my hair up or down. I really wanted to wear it up but thought that I look better in photographs with it down. It hit me square between the eyes that before social media, I would have worn my hair any old damn way I please without a single thought about a photo being taken. Maybe one or two for a photo album but let's face it,

We live in a world now obsessed with being camera ready.

I found myself longing for the days where it was fun to get dressed up and go out and have fun. Period. End of sentence. No stress over how the night would be documented.

My greatest concern is the condition of my heart, as well as my daughter's.


If I spend that much time worrying about my looks, is the state of my spirit shriveling up and wasting away? Am I more concerned with what people see in my hairstyle than what they can sense from my smile or my eyes.  

"As a face is reflected in water, so the heart reflects the real person." Proverbs 27:19 (NLT)

I don't know about you but I'm beginning to get exhausted at how much it takes to NOT be me. Countless articles and books are out there about how to fight aging and be younger. Gone are the days where age and wisdom are deemed valuable. It's as if the main message is, "Who you are is not good enough. Who you are should weigh less, have perfect skin, and be put together 24/7." 

And all I keep thinking is, "I just want to be 44." I want to be my age

A healthy 44. I exercise. I drink lots of water. I try to eat well. I laugh. I cry. I love life with my people.

But I'm done with the days of trying to turn back the clock. 

I'm done working so many hours in a day trying to be something or someone else the rest of the world tells me is beautiful or how I "should" look.  I'll never be the size I was when I was 25 and quite frankly, I don't want to be. I'm done wasting my time now NOT appreciating myself where I am. If I'm not careful, I'll live my life in a constant state of discontentment. 


And I hope and pray my daughter sees that. A healthy lifestyle goes beyond what we eat, how much we exercise, or how we look in Instagram photos. How are we loving and caring for others? Are we a light in a dark world?

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Every Stage Has Challenges

I just spent the week in Colorado visiting my mom and my sister and her family. My sister is married to her high school sweetheart and they have four boys. They are 23, 20, 17, and 16.


We went out to dinner with some friends and got to talking about the different phases of parenthood. Our friends shared that the baby phase wasn't their favorite, but they are enjoying the teen years with their kids. The Hubby and I said that the baby phase was tough, especially with twins, but we liked it. We don't want to do it again, but we liked it. And the teen years with our kids have been amazing. Too much fun. My brother-in-law said that he and my sister have also enjoyed each phase but that having adult children is really, really hard.

I've said before that parenthood is defined by seasons.

Each season has good and bad, and some are simply tougher than others. 



The baby phase of parenting is filled with diapers, bottles, 24/7 care of another human being, and doing it all on about 4 hours of sleep a night - if you're lucky. It has morning snuggles, baby shampoo smells, and watching kids change almost overnight.

The teen years are filled with drama (the level depending on your kids and how much they engage in it) as well as hormone changes and learning to navigate friendships and relationships. It also has nights filled with laughter as you play games around the table after dinner, talks beneath the stars of the years ahead and dreams wanting to be chased, as well as watching kids turns from kids to young adults, preparing to fly the nest.


The phase of life with adult children I haven't spent too much time in since my oldest is 19, but I ask my sister a lot about it since her oldest is 23. She says that the biggest challenge is finding balance between giving advice when it's asked for (and sometimes when it's not), and not nagging too much to where they won't want to come home and visit you. It consists of watching them make mistakes knowing they need to do so to learn life lessons, and guiding them through it as they go. It's about helping them build a life but doing so from beyond an arm's length away.

Every parenting stage has it's challenges. But it has it's moments of bliss as well.

I do know this. I wouldn't trade a moment of the journey. Watching my kids, as well as my nephews, navigate life, seek to serve God, and become awesome grown up human beings is something I will treasure forever in my Mama Heart. 


Saturday, July 1, 2017

Travel And The In Between

For Christmas, my husband gave me and The Girl Child a trip to Italy. We each took a friend. A girl's trip that we did a few weeks ago. For the first week back, I felt like I'd been hit by a bus. Jet lag is not joke, people.


Neither is the adjustment that goes with having a grown child home for the summer after living on her own for nine months in another state. Then go on an overseas trip with her where she wants to roam around in the evenings just her and her friend off on their own. It's like being tossed into the deep end with no life preserver or instruction on how to swim or even tread water.


I tried to give her some freedom while also keeping her safety and best interest first. And it worked. She had a blast and we had a fantastic trip. Not to say I wasn't in constant prayer or that we didn't have our bumps in the road. Life and travel aren't ever without those.


The In Between is a bit bumpy as well. In the same way that we are trying to adjust to having a grown child, our grown child is adjusting to still having parents and yet be independent. As I would mentally grapple with what I was okay with her doing on her own while we were in Italy, I had to remind myself that she lived most of last year on her own in another state without me approving or knowing of 90% of what she did. Now, I trust this child to no end so I wasn't concerned, but it's…weird.


To go from knowing everything they're doing to knowing very little of what they're doing and back to knowing most of what they're doing is quite the dizzying experience. Now that she's back, I know about most of what she's doing, and I don't get quite as big of a say in it. And that's okay. That's how it should be. But again...weird. It's amazing how much I've had to train myself to think before I speak. 


I will say this. The In Between has been way easier so far than when she initially left. The complete hole that left in our lives was difficult to navigate. It was hands down, one of the saddest, toughest times in my life. The In Between is merely a part of the adjustment to our relationship as it moves forward. The Hubby and I are becoming less parent and more friend. Which is wonderful. Truly. But it is a change. And we all know how well I handle change. ;)

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Valuable Motherhood

I don't like to cook. I don't mind it, but I don't like it. And the main reason is that I'm not good at it. When the kids were young, I made dinner almost every night. My husband and I wanted to be intentional about sitting down together as a family no matter how little the kids were or how busy things got when they were older. We stuck to that and I'm grateful. We've had seasons where volleyball practice or football made it tough, but we did it. And if for some reason we couldn't, the kids said they missed it. Even now, The Girl Child comes home from college and asks for us to have meals together.

But cooking is not my thing.

It's been an interesting week. The Girl Child and I have been home from our Italy trip (which I'll blog about soon) for about a week. I woke up Monday dizzy. Having had an inner ear infection before, I was sure that's what it was. I went to the doc, and yes, I was right. So…I'm having a restful week with my kids driving me anywhere I need to go while waiting for this thing to subside.

But anyone who knows me knows that rest is not my MO. I have to work hard at it. Really hard. And forced rest only makes me fussier. But, after much prayer and tears of frustration with God, I accepted my fate and settled.

Yesterday, I had a chiropractor appointment, which my son graciously drove me to, then we strolled the grocery store and got ingredients to make dinner. Now… I have to share that The Hubby is a phenomenal cook. Something that has worked well in my favor, but there are many times I feel bad that he goes to work all day then comes home and cooks for me. (I don’t feel too guilty about it often, but I did this week.) And to be honest, it felt great to have time to prep everything, to organize the fridge and have what I call a "domestic day."


So, I got what I needed to make carnitas in the crock pot. Easy, right? One would think. But not for me. I prepped it all, chopped tomatoes, etc. for burritos and was SO excited I had been domestic amidst my dizziness. Images danced in my head of The Hubby coming home to a house that smelled amazing, everything prepped and ready to where he could just make his burrito and relax.

Around 5 o'clock he called and asked if I wanted to meet him near his office and go out for dinner. (With teens, we are able to do this about once a week. A perk of an Almost Empty Nest.) I told him I had dinner planned and lifted the crock pot lid to check. Instead of pork that fell apart, tender and ready to toss into a tortilla, I found a mound of meat I could hardly stab with a fork. What in the world?? How could I have possibly ruined something so simple?

I accepted his offer to go out and the kids hugged me and said they'd make some ground beef and do burritos that way. By the time I got to The Hubby, I was fuming. I was so upset. I try and I try and I try to get better at this and I just, plain suck.

Over dinner, and through tears, I spewed to him that if I couldn't cook and I don't work outside the home and make much money, I had zero value. None. Why was I even here? Being the amazing man he is, he listened and comforted and reminded me of all that I do as a mom and wife that matter to this family. But of course, his words went in one ear and out the other. I wanted to pout over all I CAN'T seem to do right.

I can't seem to find my value.

Sadly, this is not a new conversation for me and The Hubby since The Girl Child went to school and Thing 1 and Thing 2 started driving. My list of mom duties is dwindling - fast. I always swore I wouldn't be that mom where she'd poured so much of herself into raising her kids that she was lost when they flew the nest. I know deep down that I'm not that mom, but man, lately it sure feels that way.

This is also not a new struggle for me. Even amidst diapers and bottles and even long days at sporting events that took 8 hours to pack and prepare for, I questioned whether or not my presence was needed or valued. With three quasi-grown children now, I really wonder. I mean, at least back then there was a ton to do, right?

Motherhood is something that gets very little feedback. As my kids have gotten older, there have been moments of affirmation that we've done a decent job with these 3, but it's a pretty thankless existence with few kudos and nothing too tangible to show the extent of your efforts.

However, I see in these moments how God reminds me that these three amazing people are the tangible outcome.

I am beyond proud of the people they are. Yes, God as it work in their lives and that is a huge part of who they are, but He gave them to us to guide and care for. And there is much value in that. Much value.


The Hubby also reminded me that we are here to love others. That I’m being way too hard on myself - to give myself some grace. And I love my kids. I love my family. And that love is manifested in going to the grocery store and preparing a meal. The outcome wasn't what I desired, but my heart was in the right place.

The status of my heart is where I find my value.

I may not be a good cook. And that's ok. Don't get me wrong. It still frustrates me. But it doesn’t determine my value as a mom. It doesn't determine anything other than cooking is not a strength of mine. But I have other strengths. And my heart determines my value. And God has my heart in His hands so that must be pretty good. :)

What about you? What things have you struggled with as a mom that you don't tend to give yourself grace for? Talk to me….




Saturday, May 20, 2017

She's Home

I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, but The Girl Child is headed home from her first year at college. I can honestly say it feels like a mere few weeks ago we drove her to school and left her there, a piece of my heart staying with her. The Hubby flew to get her and they're driving home right now.

I'm glad I can say that it gets easier, but I'd be lying if I said I’m 100% over this whole Almost Empty Nest thing. I’m not even close. I can see now that until Thing 1 and Thing 2 leave, and even for a while after that, I’m going to be adjusting to this.

And that's okay.


I hate to say this, but I've been disappointed in the lack of understanding I received this past year. I began to feel that people's response to me saying I was sad my Girl Child wasn't at home anymore was either a "Oh, I’m sorry" from those who still have kids at home (and wouldn't understand so that's cool) or a pat on the head from those whose kids are in their 20's and they're on the other side of the sadness. I've met only a choice few who hug me and say they love me and just listen. I adore these people.

Don’t get me wrong. I'm not upset with those who have responded otherwise. I get it. I really do. But I am trying hard to be sensitive to others like me. Moms who struggle with the change and sometimes just need a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear.

I think the biggest lesson I’m learning is that there really is no finish line on this. I imagined that as soon as the last kid is gone, I'd be sitting there sipping a yummy beverage with The Hubby, the two of us toasting a job well done - and we very well may do that - but I can see now that the relationship with my kids will forever be changing. It always has, it's just more noticeable now with them having their own lives. 

I'm excited to have The Girl Child home, but I know that this summer will look different than the last. She's a grown woman with her own life. Yes, she's living under our roof for a few months, but she's lived without our daily help for almost a year now. This changes things.

And we all know how I feel about change.

But I’m learning. I'm seeing the positives in the changes. Our conversations are so rich, full of insight and wisdom and life stuff. Not that they weren't before, but even with all it's drama, high school life is different than college. There's quite a bit more for her to handle.


And I’m happy to say she's handling it beautifully. I could not be more proud. She's adulting like a champ. The woman who will walk through my door in a few days will not be the same as the girl who left eight months ago. And quite frankly, I’m not the same either.


But, she's home. And I’m going to soak in every moment. I'm going to embrace the changes, and thank God that I get to have this precious person in my life and call her mine.