Remember when they were babies?

Remember when they were little, snug in our arms?  They had that baby smell that was so sweet and tugged at your heart (okay, sometimes they didn't smell very sweet, but, I'm remembering the sweet smell right now), and you felt like you could and would fight to the death to protect them.
I remember the first time my youngest told me that I didn't need to walk her to the bus stop anymore.  Her little face was earnest and confident as she explained to me that she could walk three doors down, cross one side street and wait for the bus with "the other big kids".  So, with that determination to be independent, I would usher her out the front door, wave a casual goodbye and run to the side window of the house where I could see her at the bus stop.  I tried to be discreet - no pressing of nose against the glass, although I muttered to myself as the other brats (I mean children, really I do), pushed each other to be "first" in line for the bus.  My little girl would get in line (I never saw her shove anyone out of the way).  Although, even at that point, I knew if someone was mean to her (or another child), she would plant those feet, give them her very direct, "I am totally not afraid of you" look and inform them that they needed to knock it off  "NOW".  Never mattered how much bigger they were.  It always worked, too.  Where does a child get that kind of inner strength (remember, I'm the mom huddling against the window, trying not fog the glass until she gets on the bus)? 
Today I helped her carry her clean laundry and cooler packed with chili (it was her request for this home visit), to the car.  She came back to the house to hug her dad, pet the cat.  Then, firmly, but, lovingly she hugged me goodbye, and left me on the enclosed back porch.  I couldn't follow her out to the driveway to wave goodbye, like last visit, so I stood at the window and watched her drive away (with seat belt on).  It was just like the school bus stop - only harder.  Oh, and by the way - she told me a year ago, that she knew that I watched her from the window.  I guess she's not only taller than I am, but, more observant, too.  I just hope the world she's out there conquering treats her right - or I will have to jump all over them.
She says it's weird coming home, "because home is still the same", but, "then I go back to campus, which is like a pseudo-home.  Weird."
I've got news for her - home is not the same, when she's not here.
She still smells sweet, when I hug her tight.
This empty nest thing - don't have the hang of it, yet.
Cindi

The once again empty nest

Well, DD has returned to college, and it was hard to say good-bye, but, dare I hope, a little easier?  Not much, but, a little?  I fussed over her, made her food, and felt like an active mom once again. 
Then I got busy listing on Ebay, etc. trying to convince myself it was a regular day.
Oldest daughter came over with her husband, and we had a nice family dinner.
This gets easier, doesn't it?  Eventually?
No whining, honest.  But, a hollow feeling by my heart.

Back to "normal" for a couple of days

Youngest daughter is home for the holiday weekend.  She seems to be coping okay with all the changes in her life, but, openly admitted that the homesickness has been worse than she expected.  I told her that I had missed her, very much, but, that I'm happy she's going to a good school, making new friends, etc.  So, we acknowledged how much this has changed our day-to-day lives, but, that we can cope and deal with the changes.  Having said that, I wonder if this empty spot will be empty again come Monday.  DD number 2, has advised me that I should call about once a week, during the week, just to let her know we're here.  I admitted to her, that I always had trouble, when her sister and she left home, knowing what was too much, what wasn't enough.  So, there we sat, having lunch, two women talking and sharing both sides of how it is when a beloved daughter leaves home.
I admit, with DD number 2, the teenage years (and even her early twenties), were bumpy.  I never seemed to do anything right.  But, now, that we have achieved a better balance, we are much closer, than we were for many years.  I always call her my "porcupine child" as she difficult to reach at times, but, inside she is a very soft, loving person.  She wanted to be a lawyer at one point in her college years, and she could debate anyone (and still can).  I look forward to the challenges she will face in the future, as a parent.  She's going to be much tougher to fool, than I ever was.  But, I think she will find that fine balance, between being the "rules parent" and showing love.
All in all, I think my daughters are all impressive women.

Until later (MONDAY looms),
Cindi

Empty nester

We raised our children to be strong and independent.  We told them they could be and do anything they worked and dreamed their way towards.  They are all impressive, strong women.  Women that I like and admire.
So how come, after all these years of love, worry, support, dreams, etc., it isn't easier to let go?
Youngest baby girl has started her life adventure as a full time college student, for her junior year, away from home.  She's less than two hours away, but, there's this hole inside of me, the empty mom spot, for lack of something better.
We've spoken on the phone (which means I can still make mom noises about eating, etc.).
When she tells me she's homesick, I have to hold tight to the weak mom inside of me who wants to throw open her arms and say "Come HOME".  Because, that isn't what she really needs.  She needs to know I'm still here, that I will always be here.  That home is not something that will ever end, as long as her dad and I exist, and then, it will still exist for her, in dreams and memories.  That the roots she has are strong, no matter where she goes.
She has the soul of an artist, my baby girl, along with scientific curiosity that is as charming as it is intense.  Her dad is a "why" person, as is she.  I'd like to think her love of books comes from me, although she reads literature in such a matter-of-fact way, it is impressive.  I am a reader who escapes into places I only wish existed, and yes, my favorite TV show will forever be Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
But, I digress.  Which isn't surprising, since I've been unfocused all week.  So, when your mom role changes, shouldn't there be a clear path through the empty nest?  With the other two, I cleaned their rooms, first.  Apparently, cleaning the first room and using it for other stuff, was not appreciated by my first little bird who left home.  I didn't actually use it for much of anything, until she rarely came home for visits.  Then, I confess, we used it for a guest who stayed with us for several months, and of course, storage.  So with the second, I cleaned her room, rearranged the furniture, and it became a really nice guest room (until she wanted the bed for her first two bedroom apartment, so that she had a guest room).  It then became my husband's computer room.. I did set up another guest room downstairs on a finished, enclosed porch, so that my mom had a place to sleep when she comes for a visit (she can't do stairs anymore).
This past weekend, after returning to an empty house littered with the debris of her leaving, I went up to her room, thinking I would clean it.  But, instead, I closed the door.  I couldn't deal with it.  So, I read a really good book, cleaned stuff, listed collectibles on Ebay that I had forgotten I even had, so that someone else could actually enjoy them (after going through a display cabinet and a closet).  I guess cleaning in some form is on my path, at least.
She's coming home for the Labor Day holiday weekend, so I've promised her her favorite casserole, a shopping trip for things she still needs.  I guess, I'll keep trying to figure this out.  Maybe I can even enjoy the fact that my third college student is on her way to the goal.  Because, I am proud of her.  I just miss her, and her place at home feels so empty.