As colleges started these last couple weeks, I realized there is a comparable agony to the empty nest syndrome: when your kids aren’t leaving and you don’t see any signs of them taking steps toward their futures. It’s not that I’m not proud of my kids, I am. They don’t get in trouble, they aren’t abusing controlled substances and they have jobs. They haven’t been arrested (although in a totally odd, random family conversation we’ve decided that if you’re going to be arrested you should go big and get arrested by the FBI). My biggest complaint about them is it would be nice if they did the dishes once in awhile, without being told. My issue is that they don’t seem they want as much for themselves as I want for them. I don’t want them to wait for life to start happening. It’s already started; they just need to get on the carousel. They seem to have dreams, but are slow to pursue them. My oldest, who has attention deficit disorder, has a difficult time wrapping her head around change. My youngest just graduated from high school, is simply tired of school and wanted a break.
I try to direct them, but they are suspicious of my ulterior motives and think I must have something to gain with them leaving the nest. I do, but that’s beside the fact that I want what’s best for them. Individually they also may be vying for the other to move out, because a couple years ago, when my oldest left for college in Redmond, I showered all my love and attention on my youngest. She got a lot of new clothes that year.
To be honest, the real reason their lack of motivation causes me emotional pain is because I figure that it’s somehow my fault. I’m the mother. I must have failed them somehow. I didn’t push them enough. I didn’t give them sufficient life experiences. I did too much for them. My mind tells me they are who they are no matter what I have or have not done. Just like children who grow up in stable homes and get in trouble anyway, no matter what I nudged them to as children, they are their own people in the long run.
I supported them if they showed interest in anything. I bought the leotard my oldest felt she must have to continue to participate in gymnastics when she was 5 years old. Turns out she just wanted the leotard and quit when Christmas was over and the magical leotard was under the tree. Her sister, who did everything her big sister did, quit too. I paid for swim lessons until I realized both my kids just wanted to play in the water and I was wasting my money with my aspirations for swim scholarships and lifeguarding careers. We surprised my oldest with horseback riding camp when she turned 8. When the week was over, I offered her continued riding lessons, in line with my Olympic medal equestrian dreams. She declined with the statement, “I know how to ride horses now.” We started camping when my youngest was 4. After the first couple trips, we even upgraded to an RV with some of the luxuries of home. We took hikes, rode bikes, and roasted marshmallows around the campfire. Now my youngest hates nature.
They’re young. I have hope. But I realize, a mom can lead her kids to the merry-go-round, but they ultimately have to step on themselves.
Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her blog on her websitelivingwithgleigh.com or on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh,” or twitter @livewithgleigh. Her column is available every week atmaplevalleyreporter.com under the Lifestyles section.
