Empty Nest?

Empty Nests?
I watched the woman on television tell Dr. Phil how difficult things were now that her youngest had gone off to college. She delicately dabbed at the tears glistening on her lashes as she beseeched Dr. Phil to tell her what she was going to do now that all her babies had left home.

The title of that day’s show was Empty Nests. Empty nests my eye. This woman was all upset because she had no one to clean up after. No dirty dishes in the sink, no dirty laundry bubbling out the top of the hamper like lava. She actually had milk in her refrigerator and gas in her car. Could she hear my violin?

I knew my nest would never be empty. First of all, I have four children. It seemed as though by the time I finished changing the youngest one’s diapers, the oldest would have to be changing mine. And even if I hadn’t forgotten my own name or started drooling by then, I still couldn’t imagine them leaving. After all, they have a great gig here. There is always plenty to eat, clothes miraculously get washed (by elves, no doubt), the phone and internet are always connected with electricity to run them and it is never cold. What a deal! In my mind’s eye I pictured one of them coming home late from a date shuffling up to the front door with their walker. They would grow old but never grow up.

My eldest is in the process of taking driver’s education classes. He’s all excited about getting his license and being independent. Of course, his definition of independence is being able to do whatever he wants whenever he wants without having to check in with anyone or pay for anything. I keep telling him that I’m not giving him one red cent for a car or even insurance on mine. He keeps saying, “I know, I know” but translated from teeneze it means, “you’ll change your mind when the time comes”.

Last week, I finally got tough and told him he needed to get a job if he thought he was planning on going out with friends, get auto insurance, etc. I tried to explain to him that it was necessary for him to take on responsibility to earn privileges, blah, blah, blah. He just kept saying, I know, I know. I gave him the ole "you’d better pull yourself up by the boot straps" speech. You know, tough love, a little nudge to the edge of the nest. That vicious little chick started squawking and pecking and flapping, clutching his little fledgling wings around my leg. I knew then that pushing him out of the nest just wasn’t gonna do it. He would need to be picked up and thrown out bodily after using a stun gun and having a big stick near by to keep him from trying to climb back in.

Another area where our ideas of independence differ is in regards to college. If you looked up the word “student” in the dictionary, my children’s faces would not be the first ones you would see. My oldest somehow has gotten the impression that he can not only get into college without doing his high school work but that I will pay for it. Silly, silly boy. I have been trying to make it clear that neither situation will happen if he doesn’t start taking his school work more seriously and he keeps saying “I know, I know”. Original, huh? So I try to impress the realities upon him. I explain, I cajole, I use all of the encouraging psychobabble that I have read and seen and heard. I look deeply into his eyes and feel proud of my patience and perserverence. I am sure he has absorbed and understood the realities. By George, I think he’s got it! He nods his head in tandum with my own and then he says, “I know, I know”. I drop my head in my hands my blood pressure rising along with my frustration level. The psychobabble goes right out the window and I decide to take a different tact, one not condoned by the politically correct child experts (now there’s an oxymoron for you). I take a deep breath, look him straight in the eye and state through gritted teeth that unless he plans on ending every sentence he utters for the rest of his life with the words “would you like fries with that?”, he had better start taking what I say a little more seriously. The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plane. How do you like those words, Dr. Phil? Meanwhile, I’m taking notes so that I can remember what finally worked (hope springs eternal) so that I can save myself the time and breath I may need on my dying day on the other three coming up behind.

I realize that it takes much time and nurturing to coax a child along into adulthood. I just hope it doesn’t take the rest of my natural life for them to get there.