Empty Nest Diaries (1)
The first 48 hours as an Empty Nester have been interesting. The cat has taken it upon himself to walk around the house wailing loudly - perhaps thinking if he does, then I won’t have to. Watching his very obvious disgust at being left alone with just DH and me is humbling to say the least. It makes me miss having a dog - at least they are always happy to see you. The cat, on the other hand, has started jumping onto the sideboard and staring at the whisky decanter longingly as if becoming an alcoholic is his only option. He’s also attacked my leg twice, smacked me in the face (whilst purring, I might add), and woke me up at 4 am this morning by sitting on my head. I wonder if it is all a clever ruse to remind me of how hard parenting can be at times? Not that any of my children ever woke me up by sitting on my head - I’m sure they’d like me to make that clear - but that relentless need for attention in the early years can be exhausting. Of course, the irony is that once they leave home, we find ourselves wanting just a tiny bit of that need again.
I have been slowly becoming an empty nester for the last seven years. Our youngest has been the only one at home for almost five years - there is a bit of a gap between her and her two older siblings. And now she has gone. We settled her into her student accommodation in London, ready to dive into her dreams and new adventures. Then DH and I drove off up the motorway, both feeling as if we’d forgotten something - possibly our youth!
Luckily, DH and I still like each other and enjoy hanging out together, so being alone isn’t exactly hard, but it is still odd. I keep thinking our daughter is upstairs in her room and will be down any minute - which is a little unsettling as DH keeps joking he’s going to start walking around naked. I imagine the cat will have something to say about that! I also have no idea how to cook for two instead of three, although it also took me a while to stop cooking enough for five (plus enough to feed whichever of their friends was inevitably hanging around the place). And the house seems so much bigger. And quieter. Other than the wailing cat, of course.
The thing is that, unlike some parents I know, I actually really like my kids. They are all funny, passionate and interesting. I like talking to them and hearing their thoughts on things, and having the kind of conversations that you only have when you live in the same house. Our youngest has grown into a very lovely housemate who helped with cooking, did her own laundry, and shared endless TikTok reels with me that always reminded me that no matter how much I feel like a teenager on the inside, I am absolutely not one! I like the energy they bring into the house and having their friends pop in and out. I am, of course, proud of them all for moving on and pursuing their own lives. I won’t lie though, I wish they were all doing it a little closer. With one child in New Zealand, another who spends a large amount of time leading expeditions up mountains or across deserts, and now one in London, I find myself feeling envious of those families who all live in the same village and can get together regularly.
I have LOVED being a mum. I won’t pretend it has all been plain sailing and without its challenges, but it has still been the best experience of my life. It has been the job I never knew I would be quite good at or enjoy so much. Whilst some may relish their kids moving out, it will take me a little while to gently grieve the ending of that part of my story, reflect on the experience, and begin to create my next chapter.
Have you taken my 5 day journaling challenge yet? It’s a great step towards creating Your Next Chapter, and it’s completely FREE.
