I’ve spent the last 23 years or my 44 years on this planet preparing for this moment. Or at least that’s what people keep telling me.

 

“You’ve done your job.”
“This is what you raised them for.”
“Aren’t you relieved? You get to live your life now.”
“You should be proud.”

 

Guys, I am incredibly proud and yes, this is what I raised them for. I would be lying if there wasn’t part of me that wasn’t looking forward to a quieter and cleaner home, but I’d also like a redo of the years I spent stressing away wondering how it would all work out, if I was doing enough, if I was teaching them the right things, if was being too hard or too soft on them, you know, all the things we do that take away from our motherhood journey. I wish I didn’t care as much about the wet towels on the floor, the clean bedrooms, the dishes in the sink, the empty pantry approximately five hours after a grocery run. Because suddenly, it all feels different and like I wasted time.

 

This Summer feels different…

 

This is the last summer with our kids living under our roof.

 

My daughter is married now. MARRIED. Somehow, my little girl who used to insist on wearing a princess dress to the grocery store now has a husband, a toddler son, and a life of her own. We are in the last month of her living with us as she waits for her husband to come home from deployment and then they are off to build their family and create their own traditions.

 

And my son? Well, after one year of college, he has officially become a part-time resident of Mom and Dad’s Bed & Breakfast. He’s home for the summer, enjoying free laundry, unlimited snacks, complimentary Wi-Fi, and a built-in cleaning service before heading back in the fall for his second year.

 

I’m trying to soak it all in. Taking pictures of them sitting on the counters while they wait for dinner, nights spent on the deck just shooting the shit, the sound of my son making his midnight refrigerator raid, the overwhelming piles of shoes by the door, the sound of toddler feet running through the hall first thing in the morning, the chaos, the noise, the ordinary things that once drove me crazy, because it has finally hit me…

 

This doesn’t last forever.

 

Nobody really prepares you for the strange transition between being needed every minute to being needed occasionally. It stings, at least for me. One day you are making their favorite meals and the next you are getting a text that says “Mom, can you send me that recipe I love? I want to make it for dinner tonight.”

 

I know my place in their life hasn’t been eliminated, but it has definitely changed and that comes with two very different sides for me. One is grieving the end of an era, while the other is genuinely excited for what’s to come – for them, for my husband and I, for what the future may have in store for all of us. Somewhere between raising babies, managing schedules, taking care of our home, making sure the bills were paid, and keeping everyone alive, I forgot that I was a person outside of being mom and now life is not so gently pushing me to figure who that person is.

 

I guess this chapter is where I get to discover who I am when I’m not constantly needed. Maybe it’s where I finally figure out what I want to be when I grow up…at 44 years old. I am trying to figure out how to hold all of these emotions at the same time. The pride, the sadness, the excitement, the uncertainty, the gratitude, the ache…all different and colliding.

 

I’m pretty sure motherhood doesn’t end when your kids leave home, it just changes. You go from being the center of their world to becoming one of the safe places they can always return to and what an honor that is. To finally reach that level, is like winning the World Cup, right? I mean, that’s the ultimate goal – to raise strong, independent, and successful kids who are confident enough to go out and build their lives while always knowing they have your love, support, and a place to come back to if needed.

 

So, this summer, I’m trying to not focus on what’s ending, but on what is right here with me at this moment, so that when the Fall comes and our home gets really quiet, I’ll have all that has filled these walls to keep me company. I’ll think about the memories we’ve made. I’ll remember the way the four of us always came together to face everything. When the new chapter comes, I’m sure I’ll be sad. I’ll probably need a little time to be quiet and wrestle with all of these overwhelming emotions, but I know I will find job and peace and even some excitement because this is how it’s supposed to be. This is how we successfully parent. This is not the end of our family story; it’s the beginning of the newest chapter where everyone is out chasing the life they want and that includes my husband and myself.