Back in my bed by myself after a breakfast that was not only made by my offspring, but actually looked AND tasted good, I enjoyed the luxury of thinking in silence.
Change is on the wind.
As I was sipping coffee that wasn't even reheated but still hot and fresh (a miracle of sorts) I pondered the realization that this will likely be the last Mother's Day like this.
The time when I have humans I created under my roof whom I'm responsible for is coming to a close.
At some point soon, the only person I’ll have to provide food and shelter for is myself. (Yes, even when the kids all move, I'll still have 2 dogs, a cat, 6 chickens, 3 fish and my SweetHeart living here, but that’s different. He's a grown arse man and my Partner who pulls his own share, which is a whole different ballgame than kids~ and the rest are not humans, so they can only complain in barks, clucks, meows and the occasional destroyed personal property. Again, nothing like children...)
Our brood will soon be flying the coop and out into the world.
It's a strange place of transition that I'm not quite sure what to make of.
There's this vision I've seen (both in real life and popular media) where mother's at my stage of the game are mourning and lamenting the soon to be empty nest as though somehow all meaning is leaving life with the college bound kids.
The thing is... I'm not really feeling that way.
There are also the parents who are just done and can't wait for their kids to leave~ whether they are 17 and full of hormonal angst or 26 and playing video games in the basement.
I'm definitely not feeling that way either.
This place that I'm at feels a bit more complicated than that.
Thankfully, I still enjoy having them here. And I also know they’re almost ready to go.
I definitely have some nerves along with the occasional doomsday, “I’ll tell you what could possibly go wrong” type of what ifs running through my head (and sometimes out of my mouth.)
There are also the times of nostalgia for days past, when they were smaller and life seemed somehow simpler.
There are times when I panic that I still have so much I want to share with them that I go on a speed-talking caffeinated rant full of helpful tips on adulting until their eyes glaze over and they run into another room to “do math homework” rather than hear any more.
And there are times when I know that some things they’ll just have to figure out on their own, no matter how much I want to help.
But mostly, I feel.... Content.
I’m a little surprised that I’m not feeling like I need to stop the clock or wishing I could go back or even jump ahead.
I don’t know if all the self help, make-yourself-all-zen-like books I’ve read have finally kicked in or what, but for the most part, I’m at peace.
More than that, I’m actually really happy with where we’re all at.
And mostly, I just want to enjoy what’s left.
There’s definitely a jumble of emotions~ but overall, I feel like I did my job of helping them become self reliant adults~
AND the best part is that they turned out to be pretty awesome and extremely competent people who I actually really like hanging around.
They're also people who are ready to go and do their own things in the world, and from what I can see, I feel like their odds of soaring high are really strong.
After spending so many years with my kids~ funschooling, finding opportunities for creativity and expression, to connect with animals and people of all ages, to delve deep into interests, to travel and explore, to be immersed in nature and exposed to all kinds of culures, to make food and grow plants and care for creatures both very young and very old, to witness first hand the circle of life, I feel like they had a great foundation~
At least it was the best one I could give them.
They've been full sized people for some time, but now they're adults in the legal sense as well, and they're on their way to go do their own things.
Some things they want to do sound like great ideas that I can fully understand and enthusiastically support.
Other schemes they come up with make my eyeballs pop out of my head, and are really, really hard not to freak out about (I may actually fail that part…)
But in the end, I know that they're smart and competent.
They won't just be fine~ they'll be awesome.
And my life won't be over or empty when they go.
It will be awesome too.
I'm a little nervous for them and a whole lot excited for all of us.
And I’ll always be amazed that I've made these awesome human beings.
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Writer, Artist, Empowered Living Advocate, Wanna-be Organic Gardening Foodie, Travel Loving Life Explorer, FunSchooling Facilitator / HeadMistress for our Mostly Happy Homeschool, Former Goat Herding Chicken Lady and Full Time Mamacita Extraordinaire to an Assortment of Cage Free Kids.