Six more lunches. That is how I’m counting down to the end of the school year – only six more lunches to throw together as he eats breakfast at our kitchen table. Making lunches was the kids’ responsibility once they hit high school, but this year I reverted to old habits. My most hated mom-job was bearable once I only had a few more months to do it, and the teen is more likely to chat with me if I’m standing at the island assembling a sandwich than he would be if I were staring at him from across the table.
And now there are only six left. I have parented through two years of daycare, five years of preschool, and sixteen years of public school, and now my youngest child is about to graduate high school. His cap and gown are hanging in his bathroom, so the wrinkles can steam out of the flimsy polyester before the big day.
Five more lunches.
Yesterday didn’t count because he had an AP exam and went out to lunch with friends afterwards. I did not know that until he came home; since he started driving I’ve become accustomed to not knowing where he is at all times. It’s as it should be, I know, but it’s an odd feeling for to not know where my kids are. But I’ve handled it with my daughter; I can do it with my son.
I made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich this morning; it’s been the lunch of choice since kindergarten. I think about at what point PB&J becomes a treat. It’s a curious thing, the PB&J sandwich – ubiquitous during childhood and a rare pleasure of adulthood.
Making a lunch at 6:30 a.m. is one of the things I will not miss. I thought I would have a list of those things, but I don’t. In my current state of mind, I’m focused on the things I will miss.
- The kid walking in the door after school, and the scramble of eight paws frantic to greet him.
- Running into friends and acquaintances at school events or games.
- A reliable routine, the ebb and flow of the school year.
- Snow days.
Four more lunches.
The dogs will miss our morning routine; they each get a baby carrot when I throw some in the kid’s lunch. The carrots are one of a few food items I will never need to buy again because their sole purpose is to be consumed at school. No more strawberry fruit bars, no more snack bags of chips, no more trail mix. Please, no more trail mix. My stint buying the large bag instead of the individually packaged ones resulted in multiple visits to the snack drawer each day, and an extra pound around my hips.
He came home from school yesterday to report that he did no schoolwork and watched almost four episodes of Game of Thrones. Final exams begin today, so the GOT viewing will have to wait; it’s better to watch the battles episodes on a larger screen anyway.
*****
I’ve stretched the writing of this post over four days, perhaps in a semi-conscious attempt to avoid thinking about the inevitable. A friend loaned me a book about becoming an empty nester, and the unassuming paperback has been glaring at me from my nightstand for months. I know the world will march on, but I also need time to process this huge change in my life, my son’s life, and the life of our family of four. Have I mentioned that my daughter is almost finished her junior year of college? Two graduations, one year apart. I can do this, right?
Joining Finish the Sentence Friday with Kristi, because I miss joining in. The prompt is “I used to think,” and while I didn’t use it explicitly, this post is full of things that used-to-be.
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You can do it! We have to keep telling ourselves this. I totally understand the emotions you are feeling, even if I’m not quite in the same spot. I’m currently trying to process that my son is done with his first year of college and may not be home much this summer- including his birthday. 😐 And that Daughter is preparing to apply to colleges. But then I have a 12 year old who actually likes spending time with me, so I guess I’d better EMBRACE that while I can.
Yes, you should embrace it! I know you understand, Julia – thanks for the encouragement.
I’m so far from this but it made me tear up. Beautifully written.
Thank you Nina!
First- Congratulations! Next, love the sweetness of mixing the simple “everyday” with the BIGNESS of life changes.
Lovingly put together.
Thank you Mardra!
Oy! I don’t know what to say. Hunter id my first senior and I’m so excited by everything. And, with three others experiencing EOY events (and another graduating MS, and the last graduating ES), I am freaking exhausted! An empty nest sound divine, but I know it won’t be.
Hang in there!
This really pulled my heart strings because I have four kids in elementary school and although I hate packing 4 lunchboxes everyday, I realize that it is an act of love that they appreciate (or at least someday will). It’s so hard to move onto a new chapter in life – my oldest is off to middle school next year. I really enjoyed your reflective post.
I’m sorry this was buried in my spam mailbox, or I would have replied sooner! Good luck to your oldest and to you as you head into middle school years – all of these transitions are bittersweet, aren’t they? Since I wrote this, the kid has graduated and I unceremoniously dumped his lunch box in the trash:)
Of course you can do this, and I can do one day. And I can’t believe it at all. With five kids, my mom gave up breakfast and lunch making when we were all in high school/college, BUT, I was never a morning person and senior year was just too hard for me. My mom would buy those frozen breakfast meals just to entice me to school. I miss that.
This line of yours really got me: “Running into friends and acquaintances at school events or games.”
Being work at home, I don’t see humans in the world unless I want to. I had to drop the kids at school this morning because Scarlet had a meeting early and ran into so many people I know through school. It was heartening. I don’t know how to do the world without that. Granted I still have 12 years of it but I’m terrible at NOT looking ahead at something I currently enjoy ending.
I’ll look to you!
At least you have plenty of time before you’re in my position, Tamara. And while you may not be ready when it comes, your kids will be, and you’ll be fine. But I understand what you mean about seeing people and getting outside the home. I’m going to have to make a concerted effort, because I need that human interaction. I love my dogs, but they aren’t great conversationalists.
What an excellent post.
(I’ve always liked the metaphor that life among friends and acquaintances online is a matter of telling tales. We share our information, biographies, anecdotes and family adventures and these collectively serve as windows into our lives that we offer one and other.*)
As a post and as a tale of a family this post is so well written.
*the proof of the reality and, therefore the sufficiency of the social character of the internet came home a few years ago, when, in a comment, I said, “Yeah and remember that time, when your son was in third grade and your vacation…” It came home that this is how friends (and acquaintances) talk in the ‘real’ world.
So true, Clark. I’ve missed my internet friends, who I know as well as some of my “IRL” friends. Most of my posts are tale tellings; even my parents say they learn things about me they never knew from some of my posts. I think they’d miss my blog more than anyone else if I stopped writing.
Dana, not only did I tear up reading your post but continued when reading the comments from your friends. It seems like only yesterday that your sister left for college and dad and I were empty nesters. And now our daughter is going to be one, too. It takes a while to get used to not having children at home to take care of. For me after all these years I can honestly say there is still a void not having my daughters at home. I know, “get a life Mom” you would say. I have one but I guess at my age one becomes nostalgic for things of the past. On a lighter note, so glad to read you will get back to posting more frequently…I’ve missed them!!
I understand the nostalgia…I’m experiencing it in a different way right now. But I expect there will always be a void; I just need to fill it. And I need to figure out how to fill it, but I’ll get there. I’m sure you’ll help!
Definitely!!
I cheated a bit and got my oldest to do 2 years of community college on scholarship. Half price college and I got to keep him under my wing for an extra 2 years! But he’s transfering in the fall. (SOB) My youngest is in middle school, so I’ve got 6 more years of lunch packing…
Good luck to you as your oldest leaves the nest! That’s not cheating…sounds like it was a smart move. It’s tough no matter when they leave – I sympathize.
You had me tearing up from the moment I read the title. Spot on reflection of the feelings right now, my friend. I am truly grieving the fact that I will no longer be seeing you at school events, but know that we will always make time to see each other. Maybe you should start working for a school so you can continue enjoying having snow days 😃. Enjoy every last lunch making and then revel in the freedom of not having to do it anymore! Xoxo
A big NO to working at a school…even for snow days! And I’m counting on spending some of that free time with you, so be prepared:)
First, when I saw that you’d linked up, I was giddy. Truly. I miss the way it used to be in blogging, (and the younger years of our babies). I can’t believe you’re going to be an empty nester. I have a few years before that happens, but got teary reading your post because it really does go by in a blink, doesn’t it? I wish we still lived close by – I’d treat you to lunch and give you a hug and tell you to visit your friend in Colorado next year when you’ve got the travel bug and no school lunches to make.
I wish we could do lunch too! I’m happy to be joining you again – I miss our community. I’m going to try to write regularly again:)
Yes! You can absolutely do this (you have no choice really) but that doesn’t mean it will be easy. Parenting is truly the hardest job in the world but moms tend to think of the baby years as the hardest and I would disagree – I think what you’re dealing with right now is the hardest – the letting go. I can only hope you pass though a small window of sadness and then are invigorated by your “new” life and freedom! Good luck my friend. And read that book! I’m SURE it will be helpful 🙂
I agree with you – the older years are harder, emotionally if not physically. I appreciate the vote of confidence, Allie!
Aw, Dana I can’t even imagine as my girls are still only in elementary school. But when my times comes I am not sure I will be ready, but inevitably will have to be. Still congrats to your son on his upcoming graduation. ❤️
Thank you, Janine! Time marches on…I remember when your girls were just toddlers, and going to kindergarten was a HUGE deal!