One by one your chicks have flown away. You birthed them, fed them, clothed them, loved them, mentored them, and shaped them into the marvellous young adults that they are today. In fact, you did such a good job that they don’t need you anymore. You have now entered a new, rarely acknowledged phase of motherhood, known as the “empty nester.”
Oh, for those glory days when you were a new mom proudly pushing your baby in the carriage around the neighbourhood! Or later, a busy mom with a van full of kids, running from one activity to the next. Back then, you felt important, you felt seen. You had a purpose. Now you’re sipping a coffee, staring across the table at your husband eating his breakfast, in a kitchen that is way too quiet. Has he always chewed that loudly?
Basking in memories soothes your soul.
The first time you strapped your baby into the car seat you worked up a sweat and it took 10 minutes. Who knew it would be that complicated? You spent all your time before they were born reviewing the stages of pregnancy, what to expect during the birthing experience, and the developmental milestones of your baby. Knowing how to strap a baby into a car seat never occurred to you in those dreamy days before they arrived.
For the first month, your nipples were so sore from breast feeding that they felt like they were on fire. Sex was a distant memory, and that was okay because with more stitches than you wanted to think about in your nether regions, it wasn’t exactly on the top of your priority list.
Their first step was a big milestone. Within a few weeks though, they were running everywhere. You lived in fear that they would fall down the stairs, break their nose, or run into traffic. You couldn’t take your eyes off of them for a second.
Every meal was a battle. They smeared food on everything, tipped their dish full of porridge onto the floor just to see what would happen, rubbed pudding into their hair, and spit food at you.
Then came potty training. You sat on the floor beside them while they sat on the potty for hours, waiting for the sound of that tinkle. They cried. You cried.
They cried when you took them to daycare. They cried when you picked them up from daycare.
The teen years though, they were the biggest challenge. About the time they turned 13, you were abruptly demoted from Mom, Chief of the House, to Mom, House Slave. You begged for admittance to their room, which was a mess, your opinions were shunned, and everyone else’s mom was way more interesting than you. They were ashamed to be seen in public with you. Your only value was in your ability to do laundry, stock the fridge, and chauffeur them around the town.
Now they’re gone.
You feel so empty inside. Maybe that’s where the term “empty nester” came from. It’s not an empty nest though. It’s a very successful, fulfilled nest that has done its work. It’s a launching pad. Your kids are fine, and they certainly don’t expect you to mope around wishing for the past. In fact, they’ll be so proud of you when you blossom into the next phase of your life!
What will you do?
The possibilities are endless. Go back to school, take a dance class, become a yoga instructor, pick up a musical instrument, paint, sew, knit. Sing! Show your kids, and more importantly yourself, what a creative, resilient woman you are. Reconnect with your young, fearless, single self and introduce her to your mature, experienced, wise self, and discover all the things you can accomplish together.
Oh, and one more thing. Never say, “I’m an empty nester.” Say, “I’m an amazing, powerful, brilliant woman and I raised great kids, who are phenomenal young adults that are an asset to this world. You’re welcome.”
Written by Jan Earnshaw
About Jan
“I am a writer with a background in nursing, music, teaching, and motherhood. Every phase of my life has been rich with lessons that I carry with me.”
