Thirty-Two Days Until Fifty-Five

As the numbers changed, we changed, too.

I am writing about my kids because, after six months, we are all five back together in the house for the holidays. My kids are twenty-four, twenty-one, and nineteen. I am a “freebird” also known as an “empty nester.” I like to say that my husband loves being alone in the house but me, not so much. He loves the quiet. I miss the chaos. Hear that, younger self? I miss the chaos!

When my three vildechayas (that’s Yiddish for wild animals) were little, I longed for peace. All I wanted was “family harmony.” I used to tell my kids, “Do whatever it takes, just give me some family harmony.” They would swear they would not fight or push or pinch each other in the name of family harmony, before someone smacked someone or ate their piece of leftover steak without asking, or sat too close or breathed too loudly or talked with their mouth full. Then our family harmony would turn to sh*t. But not anymore.

We are nearly two weeks into Full House and there has been no altercations, swatting, smacking, or door slamming (although there was an incident of someone eating someone else’s leftover piece of steak without asking), but it has all been good. It has all been good. My kids have been a pleasure to be with. Hear that, younger self? A pleasure to be with!

My oldest is a delight, my middle is a joy, my youngest is a lucky charm. They have helped clean up and laid out dishes and gone to the grocery store and laughed around the kitchen table and squeezed into the hottub with many friends. They have cuddled up on the couch with me to watch Jury Duty and Top Gun and played guitar and sang as I’ve listened and taken videos. I’ve sat on the bed and watched my youngest design and style jeans with pins, bows, and patches. I’ve watched my son and his dad drive off for raquet ball and pickle ball games. I’ve waved to my daughter as she took off to spend time with her grandma. And all their rooms are fairly clean. Hear that younger self? All their rooms are fairly clean!

I used to lack the time to reflect. Now that I have the time to reflect, I lack the will. Reflecting can make me feel sad because I miss my parents and my father-in-law and our childhood dog Brodie and my Grandma Pearl and little sticky fingers and faces. However, I remember the days when I really did not know if I would make it, if I could take it, if the decades in front of me of parenting were survivable. But they were. Here that younger self? I survived!

As the numbers changed, we changed, too.

We went from surviving to thriving. From fighting to laughing. From intensity to…intensity! Okay, that hasn’t changed. We were an intense bunch then and we are an intense bunch now. But, oh, how we’ve learned to live with ourselves and each other with so much more grace.

Here are our numbers now: after six months, five adults are back together in one house for three weeks. I have run the dishwasher three times in forty-eight hours. In one week, two kids will leave. In one day, dog number two will be four years old. Kid number one is five feet seven inches. Kid number two is six feet tall. Kid number three is two inches shorter than I am and I am five feet, five inches (I haven’t started shrinking yet- yay!). I have been married for twenty-seven years. I was thirty when kid number one was born. Five years, I had three children. Twenty years later, they are a pleasure.

We have family harmony. It took was twenty-five years. In thirty-two days, I will be fifty-five.