We must have done something right.

Somewhere between bringing the babies home from the hospital and sending pre-adults off to college, we did at least one thing right.  That’s an expansive amount of time – eighteen years to be exact – in which to make mistakes, to try to correct the mistakes, and then to make mistakes all over again.  In fact, it is too much time NOT to make mistakes and to hopefully be forgiven for parenting mishaps made along the way.

But…we must have done something right, or have been forgiven for those past mistakes, because as much as we try to cut the umbilical cord, they just keep coming back.

FIRST BREAK OF THE YEAR

The college kids first return around Thanksgiving for that almost-made-it-through-the semester break, just to tease us with their presence, to give us a little flavor of what it’s like to have them back in the nest.  Rejuvenated after a long weekend in the nest, they flee back to school for a few more weeks on their own…

THE LONG HAUL

…before returning for Winter Break.  This is the Long Haul.  Those college kids arrive again (the nerve!) before you have even had time to miss them.  But here they come, dumping their laundry and shoes and five backpacks and suitcases and sports bags all over the pristine house.  And because they are boys, they leave their stench in every pair of shoes they discard, and they discard their shoes everywhere!  It’s a rite of passage:  bring home a plethora of shoes, leave a trail of shoes throughout the house, and gather up wayward shoes when it’s time to return to school so no one knows the college kids were even here.

After surviving a month of being cooped up together during the longest and coldest of seasons, they take flight and return with their mess to their respective universities.  They are eager and ready to depart, barely remembering to pack all those shoes!

ANOTHER TREK HOME

The nest resumes some order as the weeks drag on and the seasons change despite the absence of our off-spring.  Just when quiet becomes the new norm, those sneaky college kids sheepishly appear at the door with no better plans for Spring Break than to spend it in our space.  Sure, we welcome them home; they simply won’t take no for an answer, leaving us with no choice but to allow them inside.

Like a well-rehearsed scene in a play, we resume our roles from the previous school break, not allowing ourselves to get too comfortable with their presence because it’s only temporary, yet these college kids create enough chaos during this brief stay that we begin to wonder why we let them return once more.  Staying up into the wee hours of the night until it’s almost time for me to get up again, emptying the fully stocked cabinets several times throughout the week, forcing me to remember how to make a well-balanced meal for four people every night of the week.  And do they really need all that sleep?

Back to school they trudge to partake in the final weeks of the school year, with lifted spirits and full bellies, like the contented babies they once were after a two-hour nap…

COMPLETING THE CYCLE

…only to return to the homestead yet again to complete the cycle:  Summer Break.  Do we dare let them cross the threshold after only a few months absence? Do we continue to be worn down just so they have a place to rest their weary heads, and yes, to toss their smelly shoes?

Yes, yes, we do.  Who am I kidding?  They had me at hello.

I’m sitting in the cell phone lot at the airport a good 45 minutes before the anticipated arrival time of Son Number One plane just to make sure I am there on time.  No rookie mistake for me like I made his freshman year when it took me two-hours to pick him up on his very first trip home for Thanksgiving break. A mere mile away from the terminal, a mere mile from having him safe and warm in my car, except I didn’t anticipate the heavy holiday traffic during rush hour.  I literally cried at the traffic light as it changed a minimum of seven times before I was granted the green light to inch closer to retrieving Son Number One from Gate C.

To pick up Son Number Two, I am allowing myself at least one-hour extra of planned travel time to make the drive; the rookie mistake here was on his part when he wasn’t fully packed to leave for Winter Break during his freshman year and we were caught in a snow storm on the way home.  Uh-huh.  Note to self:  build in extra time for Son Number Two’s procrastinated packing…and weather conditions.

I will be their mom first and foremost; I know it, they know, and everyone and everything else that stands between us better know it as well, whether it be heavy traffic, bad weather, or poor planning.  They will always be my babies, they will always be welcome in our home, and they better darn well always return to the nest.

Because we have done something right after all, and let’s face it, the empty nest sucks.  Welcome home, boys!!!