Showing posts with label empty nest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label empty nest. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 14, 2026

Life After the Kids Graduate College: Surviving the Empty Nest Syndrome


The last ten years have been a bit of a marathon, filled with family challenges, serious injuries, illnesses, and the loss of my father. For a while, laughter and everyday joy felt like they had packed up and gone on vacation without me. But the good Lord never stopped nudging me forward. Well... "nudging" might be giving Him too much credit. It was probably more like a well-aimed boot to the backside. Either way, I'm finally starting to laugh more, find joy in the little things again, and rediscover my voice. Apparently, God wasn't accepting "maybe later" as an answer.

 **Life After the Kids Graduate College: Surviving the Empty Nest Syndrome** 

Ah, the moment every parent dreams about: the day your child(ren) graduate from college, get a job, spread their wings, and fly the nest. They say life after your kids graduate from college is a golden era filled with blissful peace and quiet, but let’s be real: it’s more like a rollercoaster of emotions coated with a hefty dose of confusion. 

**The Sudden Silence** 

The first thing you notice after your kids move out is the deafening silence. Gone are the days of “Mom! Where’s my other sock?” or “Dad, can you help me build this ridiculously complex science project that requires twelve different kinds of glue? It's due tomorrow!” Instead, you find yourself hearing every creak and noise through the house, convinced that someone might pop out at any moment. You might even start talking to the dog—no judgment here; it’s a real adjustment! 

**Rediscovering Your Grocery Bill** 

With your once-teenage food vacuums now college grads, you’ll notice your grocery bill is suddenly half of what it used to be. You’ll stand in the grocery aisle, holding a family-sized box of Hot Fudge Sundae Pop-tarts, wondering, “Do I still need this?” Your fridge will go from “What’s for dinner?” chaos to “Is a leftover container of queso with chips considered a meal?” panic. Welcome to the new normal, where you find joy in whatever random leftovers make it to your plate! 

**Your Home Is Now a Museum** 

As soon as your kids graduate and head out into the world, your humble abode becomes a glorified museum. “Here lie the bedrooms of a once-aspiring pilot and model,” you muse as you dust their empty room, looking at the blank spaces on the walls that were once adorned with favorite posters and trophies from their youth sports and activities. Every now and then, you find yourself reminiscing about the days when you had to step over a minefield of Legos, Matchbox cars, and dolls to get to the bathroom—those were the days of real adventure! 

**The Parenting Callback** 

After graduation, just when you think your parenting responsibilities are winding down, you realize you are now on call 24/7 for what I like to call *emergency consultations*. “Mom, how do I place a grocery pickup order?” is the frantic call when they realize adulting is far harder than it sounds. “Dad, how much life insurance should I sign up for? And what's AD&D?” becomes a new family quandary. Who knew post-college life would resemble a series of phone interviews to discuss the world’s most confusing concepts?

**The Unexpected Side Effects** 

You may also find yourself suddenly subjected to side effects such as “Hobby Overload.” With all this newfound free time, you might experiment with gardening, quilting, shopping for a wardrobe that isn't based on whether it is socially acceptable for both sleeping and early morning school car-line drop-offs, or maybe you take it a step further and tackle the real monster: organizing the craft/junk room using suggestions from Pinterest or Marie Kondo that are guaranteed to make you the star of the neighborhood. Spoiler: those rooms rarely get completed.

**The Reunion Moment** 

And just when you’re starting to get used to the quiet, you get the call: “Hey Mom, can I come home for a few days?” Your heart does a happy dance as you picture family dinner and saying goodbye to your newfound solitude - even if it's only for a day or two. Before you know it, they roll back in with a suitcase full of laundry and want to take over your Netflix account with their latest binge-worthy series. Suddenly, you’re dodging awkward questions like, “Where's the last slice of cake?” and, "What happened to the Pop-tarts?" 

In the end, while we cherish the memories and lessons learned through parenting, the journey continues, albeit in a different way. Here’s to the empty nest—may it be filled with joy, laughter, and maybe a dog or two to keep you company!

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Wishing Time Away

12 years ago I gave birth to a beautiful bouncing baby boy.  It was such a relief to have that ball full of energy out into the world where he wasn't kicking and punching me for a good 20 hours out of every day.  Ironically, when he was born he was quite the snuggler.  If you held him, he would sleep soundly for hours upon hours.  If you laid him in his crib, playpen, bouncy chair, swing, or anywhere else, he was awake in 20 minutes or less.

Baby, childhood, infant

In his first year of life, he went to the hospital more times than I can count.  We were there so many times, the ER nurses knew our insurance information by heart.  Between the middle of the night cases of croup, the asthma complications, ear infections, and the capper:  RSV, I learned more than I ever needed to know about an infant's breathing.  Most of the gray hairs on my head now came as a result of having to learn how to pacify a baby enough so he'd allow a nebulizer mask to be put on his face to receive his asthma medication so he could breathe.

I'm not sure how many hours of sleep I actually got in his first year of life, but I'm betting I have more fingers and toes than I did actual sleeping hours.  Many long hours, both day and night, were spent rocking him in the rocking chair, as well as watching Barney's Super Singing Circus every 2 hours so he wouldn't notice the nebulizer in his face.  Oh, how I had a love/hate relationship with that blasted dinosaur.  In those days and hours of frustration and exhaustion, I can't even count the number of times I thought about how nice it would be when he was older and we both could get some sleep.

I wished those days away without even truly realizing it.  Now he is older, and in less than 3 years he'll have his driver's permit.  In 6 years he'll be graduating from high school and heading off to college.  Instead of wishing for the years to pass so I can get some sleep, I really want time to freeze.  I want to have lots of memories I can hold onto when our nest becomes empty and his room stays clean for months on end, or I look in the cupboard and realize I don't need to go to the grocery store 2-3 days a week to restock what he's devoured.

In just a few short years, the quiet I enjoy today while my kids are in school will become a deafening silence.  Now where there is shouting, arguments with his sister, rough-housing with his friends, and Nerf gun battles that take place throughout the entire house, in 6 years time it will all be replaced by quiet........ lots and lots of quiet.

I will be hanging onto these next few years memories with an iron fist.  I may even enjoy every time I have to ask him to make up his bed, pick his shoes up out of the middle of the living room floor, or take out the garbage.  As he enters the teenage years, he may drive me batty with his excessive energy, teenage eye rolls, and attitude, but I'm going to put every single one of his mannerisms in my memory bank.

Just as my mother said would happen, my perspective has changed.  When I hear a mother talk about how her infant sleeps soundly through the night and how wonderful it is to get things done around the house, I think "how sad". We have a lifetime of doing laundry, cleaning, and picking things up, but only a short while to enjoy our children while they are small. 

What I saw 12 years ago as an exhausting, thankless job was actually a blessing filled with hours of snuggling and cuddling with that little bundle of snips and snails and puppy-dog tails.  Yes, I still look forward with great anticipation to seeing the man he will become, but for now, I'm going to relish in the teenager he's about to be.

Written by Christie Bielss