Less is seldom more.
My son will move out of our house and into his college dorm next week. He drives me nuts. He’s been what they call a “challenge.” Loud, self-absorbed, and crazy moody. He still eats in his room, still tries to sidestep chores or responsibility, still runs at full speed and scares the crap out of me. He’s arrogant and selfish and so eighteen year old male that I should be poised, with a smile on my face, to kick him out of the nest.
It’s just over a week away and I’m done. I will no longer have to listen to his music blaring throughout the house with complete disregard for anyone else. His laptop, or water bottle, or socks, or peanut butter spoons, are no longer my responsibility. If he doesn’t take out the trash, flush the toilet, shut his phone ringer off, or put away his laundry . . . not my problem.
The house will be quieter, calm, cleaner and less . . .
Less energy, less joking, less talking, less debate, less late nights, just less.
I have no idea why, it makes absolutely no sense, but I will miss him terribly.
He’s my guy, my son, the one person that tests me past where I think I’m capable of going. He has taught me patience, deep breathing, debate, and how to see things, and myself, another way.
I carried him, cared for him, watched him discover. When he fell down, it was my job to pick him up, set him straight. When the school called, or the cops called, I answered. We fight, he makes me laugh, and sometimes I want to strangle him.
It’s what we do.
But now he’s done. He’s moving out and on to his own life. I will see him, probably still want to strangle him, but it will never be the same. This time is over.
I would definitely not want to go back, do it all again. I probably wouldn’t survive, but here’s what I would like to do.
I would like to hold his little hand on the first day of school, give him a tub, watch him eat cereal in the morning, tickle him, kiss his sleeping face. I would just want a minute, a blink, with him then, now that I know we made it.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Go To Bed!