Summer's Empty Nest

I have a confession to make.

My kids are away at camp, and I'm enjoying their absence.

The days before their departure were a flurry of activity...shopping, labeling, packing duffel bags, arranging logistics and watching their confidence and delight as they headed off.

And then they were gone, and the world was suddenly very, very quiet. A nice quiet. The relieved quiet of a job well done.

Summer's empty nest.


When my little boy was four years old, I sent him to day camp for the first time.

And I cried.

My brain knew that this was the best place for him to be at this stage of his life. But my heart felt that he was so young and vulnerable...that he still needed his home and the pampering that only a mother can give.

My brain understood that he would be reaching towards independence in a warm environment...that I must let go so he can develop fully. But my heart insisted that I can, and should, be a full part of that development.

My stomach was tied up in a knot of anxiety.

My baby was moving into the next huge phase of his life....without me.


I've come a long way since then.

Make no mistake. I'm crazy about my kids. I love having them around. I love the noise and the laughter...their contagious joy and love of life.

And I love sending them away.

I don't have that pit-of-the-stomach sadness that they're off for good, and I know I'm not ready for that.

I do, however, love the temporary break. I'm thrilled at not having to pick up after them, keep tabs on them and nag them to make their beds or put away their clothes. I'm looking forward to the slower pace...less laundry...less cooking...more time. For me.

I can take my time getting home from work. I can catch up with old friends. I can read the paper or do my nails. I can go for long walks or read some books.

Or I can just do nothing.

I will enjoy my summer with a more relaxed attitude and carefree mindset.

And I'll be ready for them when they come back home.