Early Onset Empty Nest Syndrome

Man, I have been weepy lately. I cried my way through Toy Story 3. I have found myself repeatedly flipping through old photos on Flickr (since, you know, albums are so yesteryear!) and lamenting the loss of those times in my life. I have been putting off Driver’s Ed road practice, not only because I fear for my life :), but also because it it is just another step closer to adulthood for my kids. I am cutting way WAY back on everything, including things I truly love, so I can focus more on my kids since it has become increasingly obvious that they will not stop growing or aging while I get my sh*t together or pursue my own hobbies and interests.

To make matters worse, I have been blessed with this daughter who has, since we first met her, strived to age faster, do more, act older, and accomplish beyond her years in any way possible. This includes, as formerly mentioned, her desire to lose teeth. Gag. And go off to school. She just wants to go go go.

And now, amongst all the rest of the things I lament, we can add “reader” to the list. My last baby is a reader.

I have done all I can to avoid this reality. It has been months since her last “reading lesson”, as she calls them (not because she finished the book but because we got busy and she stopped asking). I avoid drilling her on the spelling of words and I don’t even know if she knows all her letter sounds. Because she just turned 4. And she doesn’t need to know these things. She needs to play and have fun. She has the rest of her life for academics. But a funny thing happens to a kid who is ready to read. They read anyway. They don’t wait around for you to teach them. They keep developing and moving forward, in spite of you (or is it to spite you?! :)).

Back when Addy was learning to draw I recognized this familiar pattern with her. She’d draw and draw and draw and then…just stop. She wouldn’t really draw a thing for weeks and weeks. And when she’s picking up the chalk to draw again much later? Her skills had vastly improved. It was like she had to take a physical break to let the cognitive catch-up. The same thing happened with reading. She was really into it for weeks and then just stopped. Didn’t write a word or spell a word or ask about letter sounds at all for months. Until suddenly she started again. And this time she was sounding out words and breaking apart all the words she ordinarily says into syllables and pointing out middle sounds and end sounds and rhyming words and all these things she never realized months ago.

So I finally picked up some little first-reading books for Addy to tackle this fall. I gave them to her a few days ago, in the midst of this newly discovered love affair with words, and she read through the first two like she’d been practicing for weeks. It made my heart sing. And then broke it. But it will heal. I’m proud of my girl. But it is hard not to think about all the firsts that will never happen again.

No more diapers. I used to rejoice at this thought and then I read a friend’s blog about her diapering choices for her newborn baby and I felt a pang of jealousy. Jealous! Over diapers!

No more bottles or nursing. Ever.

No more first toddles.  We have a lot of little friends with 1-year-old siblings taking their first steps these days and every time I see those videos on Facebook, a stab of envy jolts through my heart.

No more first words. First little sentences. First little songs. First time saying “I love you”.

No more first little stick figure drawing. Or first time pedaling a bike. Or the first time putting on shoes.  Or drinking out of a cup.

Or drifting off to sleep in my arms.

There are a million and one firsts that will never be a part of my life again.

And I guess I’m just incredibly selfish. Because I know that there are plenty of firsts ahead for me. But honestly? I am not looking forward to the first time my kids tell someone else “I love you”. I mean, I want that for THEM. But it will just be further proof that they are breaking away and growing up. And there is plenty of proof of that all over the place. I don’t need more.

Louis C.K. has his new show on FX that is supposed to be funny but I just find it incredibly depressing. In a recent episode, he and Pamela Adlon (whom I also love and who is always hilarious) confess the most horrible thought they ever thought about their children. Louie admits that his horrible thought is that he wants to kill himself when his youngest child turns 18 (see? Not funny).  While I don’t have plans to off myself just because I have no more children to raise, I understand the sentiment. No way I can turn back the hands of time but it is just as useless to lament the loss of the past, right? Better to use that passion to live in the present and really enjoy it as much as humanly possible because if I don’t when my kids do turn 18 I am definitely going to wonder what the hell I wasted all my time on while they got older without me.