Sharon, a mom of a junior in college, during our phone consultation, told me she is torturing herself because she feels so needy. She wants her son to call when he gets there. She wants him to email her how his day is going. She wants to know what he is doing for the weekend.
No, she isn
by Ann Krausz | submitted on August 15, 2007
I smile to myself when I see women walking in the halls of this college who are my age, or around my age. I smile because we’re in sort of a club. It’s a club that you don’t have to apply to join, and you don’t know you’re in it until you’re in it. I call it the “White Picket Fence Club.” It’s a club full of women who have learned, as I have, that when you reach a certain stage of your life, you’re suddenly free; free from the job you did at home for 20 years; free from the responsibility for those around you; free to go on with your life — but free to do what?
For all those years you raised your children, took care of your home, took care of your husband, and, thanks to Women’s Liberation, you also held down a full-time job (Women’s Lib didn’t work out too well for us!) You live in a house with your dog and your white picket fence, and then, one day, the birdies you taught to fly, fly away, and suddenly you realize that you really didn’t live your life, you lived their lives. And there you are — a member of the club!
Oprah says that you have to find time for yourself — now we have plenty of time. She says, “You have to follow your dreams.” Then it occurs to you, “What if I have no dreams?” More importantly, “What if my dream was the life I had and now that’s done?” Am I supposed to have a back-up dream?
So here I am, the Queen of the White Picket Fence Club. Contrary to what you may think, I’m not old, but I’m not young either. I’m old enough to be your mother, yet I’m in the same place as you. “Who am I?” and “What do I want to be when I grow up?”
Hopefully, for some members this college may provide some answers. Exploring interests and stimulating minds previously focused on potty training and pot roasts. For some, I suspect the answers won’t be found here and they will explore the world outside these hallowed halls. I wonder what avenue they will try next. Do volunteer work? Learn Bridge? Are we destined to jump from activity to activity searching for something of value? As valuable as raising children?
Honestly, in hindsight, I don’t think I would have done anything different. I loved my life and would give anything to do it all again, exactly the same way. I’m not sure I’m searching for something new, as much as mourning something old.
As you can see, I’m still here — trudging my way through the halls trying to remain optimistic and hopeful of making peace with this stage of my life. Frankly, I’m not sure I will find the answers I seek here, but until my interests are sparked in another direction, I shall remain the Queen of the White Picket Fence Club.
Parents are trying to prepare for the big hug and the silent house but most know you can
My daughter has always lived in this house. In two weeks she will be a freshman living in a dorm far away. I will be here not hearing her voice, footsteps, or seeing her jump up on the kitchen counter as I mix brownies for the school picnic.
This is the opening of a mother talking with me on the phone. Sandy is trying to come to grips with her only daughter leaving the nest.
She talked about the check list and her daughter
A mom sat in my office sobbing. She talked about the change in the family with no children at home. She remembers the fight the week before her son left for college and how painful the words stuck in her gut.
by Mom on tilt | submitted on July 17, 2007
What am I suppose to do now with my kids? I know that sounds ridiculous since I have been parenting them for over twenty one years, but really how do I relate to them. They don’t answer my emails, they don’t text, and they don’t call. Did I mention they don’t even come home for summer breaks or holidays?
I had no idea this is what my future held as a parent. I literally have been kicked out of the, “I need you kingdom” and “there is no place like home.”
Ok, so I am exaggerating but I bet you can relate.
Yes my children and I do see each other and respond to techie communication but the truth is, I am not sure how to be comfortable with them. That sounds ridiculous since we have known each other for decades but we are different now.
Do I talk about politics, sex, finances, spirituality, work, creativity, vacations or do I not say much and just ask. How are you? What’s up?
It is as if I am wordless and don’t know how to carry on a conversation. One day they are happy and chatting away with me and the next or rather the next hour they are quiet around me. Awkward…that is how I feel…awkward with my own children.
Now that sounds pathetic and I am an accomplished woman who has always had great parenting skills. I just am adjusting to who I am these days with sweats, aging parents, too much free time, widening waist, less sleep and dreading blowing out the candles on my cake.
Yoga stretches and centers me but doesn’t teach me how to talk to adult children. My friends are struggling too with these new creatures in the house.
We seem to be back to the push pull stage…mom come here…mom get out of here, mom have you seen my keys, mom it doesn’t matter.
At least I know we do love each other it is just I am thinking of trying sign language with them or calling in an exorcist. Who is that person in that room and how did he get there?
Alright, I am exaggerating again, but and it is a but…being with adult children is tilt for me. Is anyone else feeling off balance?
Thanks for listening,
Mom on tilt
Right now parents are heading to college orientations and sadly counting the days until they hug goodbye at the dorm. Others are preparing for weddings, grandchildren, children leaving for grad school, jobs, and the service. Some parents are realizing they won
Last week our group was concerned about how teenagers are growing up. They know the struggles and joys they had with their kids.
Not invited to parties, teased, feeling fat and ugly, sarcastic, shut down emotionally, over-eating, moody, getting into college, perfectionism, lack of sleep, coloring their hair, body piercing , tattoos, boyfriends and girlfriends who weren
1. Have someone to talk with who is in or has been in the empty nest
2. Make a plan to get out of the house like going to a bookstore and joining a book club
by Allison | submitted on June 25, 2007
Dear Empty Nesters,
When I write to you I feel like we are old time friends. We are. We are parents. Parents who did our best. Parents who laughed at our kids jokes and school plays, and held them crying with fevers and tummy aches. Parents who read them GOOD NIGHT MOON. Parents who grabbed the car keys to make it to the games, to car pool, to play dates. Parents who cheered them on when they tried out, went to their first party, and sleep away camp. Parents who shopped and hoped they would like what we bought them. Parents who said yes, you can do it. Parents who let go of the back of the bike seat. Parents who let go when they carried their back packs to class, to field trips, to sleepovers, on buses, airplanes, trains, dorms, apartments, houses.
You know we are old time friends because we love our children more than we even knew what love really felt like and how it would change our lives. We are friends because we deal with budgets, choices, nights alone, sacrifices, sleepless nights, tantrums, rejection, worries, confusion, yelling, mistakes, fears, messes, exhaustion, social events, doubts, disappointments, tears, excitement, celebrations, sorrows, loss, illness, trauma, unfairness, awkwardness, hopes, big smiles.
Friends because we are devoted and would rise to a calling at any age and anytime of night.
We would fall into bed and feel like we are the lucky ones to have these children, to feel this fullness in our rooms, to know we made a difference, to see them in the morning and begin a new day.
Parents know their children it’s just NOT REAL until they are gone. Then our children left. We suffered. We adjusted. We actually got our groove on and our graduation certificates, but they are back in the nest and I wonder dear empty nesters, NOW WHAT.
Just when I think I got my smiles and routines and friends gathered, I am hearing and seeing my children daily, but they aren’t children…they are adults. Adults living in our home where my coffee cup, my towel, my CD’s and DVD’s are cluttered with theirs.
Where is the love? Well it is calling for a redefinition and rhythm. Like you, I love them, but come on, I am done. I don’t want to talk when I don’t’ want to talk, I don’t want to see piles of laundry, empty milk cartons back in the frig, empty car tanks, loud voices and music, changing of plans, full sink of dishes, empty cereal boxes, lights left on, phone ringing, friends popping in and my having to keep my door closed.
Come on now I don’t mean to burst the love bubble, but pop….I don’t want to figure out this new role stuff. I want to be self centered and take the money and run. Ok not really, but come on now, I don’t want to share my space. There I said it. ONE WEEK and already it stinks. They can’t get it. They are only in their twenties and I am way beyond those years, happily, except for the lack of gravity and fatigue.
So dear friends can you give me a little light on this dark subject of children moving back home?
See ya in the super market.
Allison
In my groups and phone consultations I think you too would relate to the current cry: THEY
I cried weeks before showing up at my daughter
Natalie Caine, M.A. natalie@lifeintransition.org