Preparation is Futile

No matter how hard you try to prepare yourself for the impending doom reality of living in an empty nest, it will still make you feel blindsided when it happens.  At least it did for me.  And this is true even though Hubs and I tried very hard to prepare ourselves.  We talked about it, joked about it, and tried to envision what our lives would be like when the last of our precious ones left the nest.  We had nothing on which to base our stupidity theories other than a desperate attempt to prepare for…get ready for…come to terms with… the reality that would be ours.  We entertained thoughts of just the two of us going to the movies which would mean taking out only a small loan as opposed to a second mortgage when taking the entire family.  We envisioned long walks on the beach without having sand thrown on us or keeping a watchful eye on precious ones in the water.  We considered a bit of traveling without having to entertain the girls or break up fights or answer the age old question of, “Are we there yet?” FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND TIMES.  We anticipated quiet and calm days and nights without interruption from a frightened or sad or energetic child.  We dreamed of room renovations and a house that, once it was cleaned up, stayed that way (OK, that last one was just mine and it really hasn’t worked out just that way---there is still a man living here after all).  We talked about having our own agendas again instead of having every minute dictated by our daughters’ schedules.  Yes, we considered, thought, shared, discussed and, we thought, prepared ourselves nicely.    Even so, when the reality of an empty nest hit, it hit hard.  And EVERYTHING stopped.  EVERYTHING.  And I realized that what an empty nest left me was alone. 

 

We are now in our second year of our empty nest situation and it is BORING.  Oh, we started out with a bang!  There was a lot of yard work that had been neglected the whole time we were raising our girls (22 years worth) and we put in a garden (which is a constant reminder of the fact that I do NOT have a green thumb but also of my persistence and determination as I refuse to give up and quit) and we got the puppy (Hubs and the girls bought him for me for Mother’s Day in an effort to placate my dread of the, at that time, soon-to-be empty nest and Tucker really is the best gift I have ever received!).  I caught up, somewhat, on scrapbooking those mountains of photos that I never had the time to deal with while the girls were growing up (which took me down memory lane causing me to miss the girls being little.).  I worked on changing our daily diet to a healthier one and began exercising (which started out GREAT as I lost 83 pounds…and then proceeded to put back on 17 of those and now am having to try again.).  I rearranged rooms, made a study, purged the attic (finding all those American Girl dolls and accessories, stuffed animals, clothes--all of which reminded me of the great time we had when the girls were growing up—and still remain in the attic.).  

And now?  Now I am out of energy.  The drive has died down.  I’m lacking in motivation.  I went into it full force (as I always do) and ran out of juice.  And this is where the reality of the situation has really hit hard.  Not only do I not know what to do with myself, I’m not fun to hang out with.  It’s true.  I am a boring person.  Hubs still goes to his job every day and has to deal with his siblings who are….um…let’s just say, troubled, while I sit here and...SIT.  As a SAHM, there was really no time to sit still.  Even at night my ‘mommy brain’ had a section that stayed alert for even the slightest out of place sound.  While the girls were at school, time did not slow down and neither did I.  I was up at that school volunteering in the office and classrooms (our PTA was phenomenal, BTW).  During the summers, we hit the beach or a park every day.  Even through high school, the busy-ness continued.  There is a different sort of busy now.  The kind that you can complete in a matter of a few hours (even the volunteering only takes a couple of hours each week) and then find yourself left with TIME.  Alone time.  Solitary confinement dudes.  

   

All is not lost, however, as I do see where all I really have to do is get up off my pity pot and DO something.  You know how you take a piece of paper and crinkle it up and, as it sits there, it begins to open back up?  Well, that’s how I am viewing the different stages of my life.  The empty nest phase has crinkled me up into a tight ball, but I’m opening back up.  And, when I’m fully opened, I will embrace this empty nest of ours.  I will remember fondly, without a desire to go back, all those fulfilling years of raising our wonderful daughters.  I will find that elusive green thumb and tend a bountiful garden.  I will continue on my journey to a healthier lifestyle.  I will leave those little reminders in the attic, not for lamenting but for future grandchildren.  And you know what will happen at that point- when I’m all opened back up…well adjusted...discovered who I am in this empty nest world.  From what I hear, that’s when the kids will come back.  With their kids.  And their husbands.  And their dogs.  And I will be crinkled up once again as I open and learn how to have grown children and grandchildren in the house.

Hmmm.....solitary confinement isn't sounding all that bad anymore.

It's day two of NaBloPoMo.  Our instructions were to write a post using the words:  placate, boring, solitary, crinkle and juice.  The theme for the month is "In a word." HEY!  It's never too late to join in!  Just follow the link or click on the button below and sign up!