A Post I Shouldn't Write...

...because mothers aren't supposed to say these kinds of things. 

Here's how it's supposed to go:

Other:  So, what's [18 year old child's name] going to do next fall?
Mother:  Oh, they've gotten into their first choice college, and I'm so excited!
Other:  So, you're going to miss them?
Mother:  Maybe a bit, but I'm just so glad they're doing what they want!

Many parents are totally comfortable with this.  I don't understand it, but I envy it. 

I say exactly the same thing, but there's far more behind it which I don't say.

Why?

Because, if you say any more, you're a clingy parent who doesn't know how to let go.  You're too emotionally invested in your kids.  You need more of an adult life.

And, if you homeschool, it's even worse.  You must be even clingier.  You just homeschool so that your kids don't get exposed to any values but yours.   They'll never develop their own personalities, their own interests, their own values.  They'll just be clones of you.

Maybe there are families like this.  I don't know them.

I haven't written anything of any substance on my blog for almost a month.  I haven't cared to, and I haven't even cared about the blog, really.  The largest thing on my emotional landscape right now is something I felt I couldn't write about, or even talk about to anyone besides dear husband, because mothers who feel this way shouldn't discuss it. 

I finally decided to write it anyway. 

It's long, and very rambling, because I'm going to say everything I want to say.

Well, almost everything.

Beginning

It started when the weather started getting hot.  I've known since last fall that older son was finally going to college, but it's finally really hitting me now because, when the weather gets cool again, he'll be off.  Oh, he'll still be at home in the evenings, but the homeschooling/part time job chapter of his life will be done.  His life, and ours, will change dramatically.

My emotions are also pushed along by what daughter's been doing - researching and visiting colleges and stressing herself out for the SAT and AP's.  She'll be applying next year, and she won't be living at home, though it is cheaper to stay in state. 

At this point, though I fight it, almost everything makes me cry.  Yesterday at church, when we were singing a hymn in unison, I could quite plainly hear older son's voice, back in the bass section, above the whole congregation, and it made me teary.  If they notice my frequent use of kleenex, I hope the other sopranos will chalk it up to allergies.

There, I've said it.  Not only that I'm sad that they're heading off soon, but that I also cry about it.  Often. 

Bad mother! 

{Say this one sarcastically} Riiiiiiight.

That was the introduction.  Here's the meat. 

 I'll start with the "need an adult life" part because it's the funniest one when applied to me.  In the time I've been raising and homeschooling my kids I've

• Gone all the way through graduate school, getting a Master of Arts in Liberal Studies with a self-designed concentration on how societies influence creativity (6 years, part-time)
• Designed a computer program for the sales division of a computer company to automate their sales progress from the initial quote to the final delivery.  Redesigned it when they went to a new system and kept updated. (5 years)  Although the company has been bought twice and my program has been absorbed into a new system, the basic structure of my program is still used - fifteen years after I first designed it.  [Dear husband told me to put in that last part.  Apparently that's a long lifespan for a program, even if it's just the skeleton.]
• Taught aerobics (16 years), after teaching myself how to teach aerobics by taking and analyzing lots of classes.  I didn't get certified to teach until I'd been teaching about five years, and the certification taught me very little that I didn't already know. 
• Did online research in various aspects of environmental health (five years), including large scale animal farming (CAFOs), urban designs for active living, and environmental health hazards.

Those are the larger ones.  I've also:

• Edited the newsletter and been on the board of one of our homeschooling groups.
• Taken Broadway dance and incorporated it into my aerobic routines.
• Gotten into singing lessons with the voice therapist who's been teaching me how to overcome my problem of weak vocal folds and undo years of aerobic damage.
• Joined choir.
• Been involved at the various churches we've attended over the years.
• Developed an interest in photography. 
• Learned how to garden.  I didn't know how to at all when I started.

I always need to be doing something new and challenging.  That being said, look back at how many of the challenges I designed myself. 

Get an adult life?  I've always had one, thank-you-very-much.

More challenges

My kids challenge me too.  Daughter took the Broadway dance class first.  Even though I had taught aerobics for years, I felt too un-dancer-ish to take it with her.  Dancers are supposed to be skinny and young.  I'm neither.  Why would I dance?

She and dear husband both talked me into it.  "Besides, there are women your age in the class," she argued.  Fortunately, for me, she wasn't good at estimating ages.  As it turned out, I was fifteen years older than anyone else in the class.  It didn't matter because I was hooked.

Broadway...

It's a major part of my blog, right?

So, it must have always been a major part of my life?

Wrong.

I listened to, and attended, lots of musicals in high school, college, and up until we had kids.  I eventually stopped, however.  The Broadway tapes went in the cabinet; the records went in the closet.  I had very few Broadway CDs.

Then daughter pulled the long-neglected tapes out of the cabinet one day when she was around 10 or 11 and fell in love with musicals.  She's always on the lookout for new things to learn, new music, new dance, new books, etc.  She doesn't just stick with what I've introduced her to. 

She got me back into musicals, then introduced me to Rent, Wicked, and Rags. She's also gotten me into more popular music, and into books I don't normally read (Memoirs of a Geisha is waiting on the shelf).  Older son shares his fascination with insects and his attention to the smallest details of the landscape - any landscape: fictional, natural, musical, etc.  Younger son has been more mechanically inclined, but has lately developed a strong interest in history.  While cleaning the playroom the other day, out of the blue, he asked if I thought that Cuba would ever work well (with a different government).  The day before, he wanted to know the causes of World War I, which led to a long discussion with dear husband. 

By the way, how do you get those kids who don't go any farther than what their parents want or do?  Mine aren't like that.  Read older son's most recent blog post.  Here's a brief quote:

Mist-wolves pad through the towns and forests on silent cloud paws, passing like fog-furred ghosts over the rooftops. After spending the Winter as sleeping layers of frost, they seem happy to be moving again. It's considered good luck if one of their intangible paws lands on you.

I enjoy fantasy, but I don't write it.  Dear husband is an artist and a writer, but older son's art and writing are uniquely his own. 

Clones?  Not likely.  Daughter's gone farther in dance than I could ever dream.  Older son has gone in a far different artistic direction than dear husband.  If there's anything they've gotten from us, it's to constantly be really looking at things, questioning, learning, and creating.  They're both also extremely disciplined in the things they care about.

Okay, if that's cloning, I'm happy to be accused.

Being really pushy (not me, them)

They also push me emotionally. 

Daughter mentioned today that we've been attending this church for almost seven years. 

Seven years, and I'm still not comfortable there, except in choir. 

[Here, I deleted a long section which explained, in greater detail than I have done before, why everything at church is so angsty.  I liked the way the section turned out, but it really wasn't necessary.]

I've written before about how difficult it was for me to try to join the choir.  Older son already being in it didn't help because the choir is always in need of basses.  I'd already been turned down four times for the instrumental music teams.  I majored in music on the flute, not in voice.  If I couldn't volunteer in my strength, why would I be accepted in the choir?  At that point, I'd only been singing again for less than half a year, and I'd been in voice therapy for a year after almost totally losing my voice. Not a great choir candidate.

I thought my choir idea was silly, and I had a very difficult time thinking about it because of my previous experiences.  Dear husband, no longer being at church, could argue, but could not persuade.

Daughter worked the most at it.  She has become quite adept at arguing with me - logically. This leads me to a question:   If your children are clones of you, does that mean that they always agree with you, or does it mean that they become as good at arguing as you are (grin)?!

Eventually, they convinced me to try.  Still, I was sure I would be turned down.

A few hours after I sent an e-mail asking, I was amazed to get one in reply from the choir director who enthusiastically welcomed me to choir. 

Be careful what you say to me in e-mail.  I may save it (grin).  I did that one. 

Dichotomy?

Why does it have to be a dichotomy?  Either you're ready to let your kids go - emotionally stable, grown up, etc. OR you're a pathetic wreck who clings too much and is sad they're going.  You can't be both ready (or at least willing) to let them go and also sad that they will do so?!

I've told my kids for years that I will be sad and teary when they go off to college, and that this in no way should ever influence their choices (that's why I warned them ahead of time). 

I try not to burden others with my emotions.  If you know me in person, I may seem very self-controlled.  However, I'm actually a highly emotional person (For example, I get teary when I read The Littlest Angel)(At a young age, my kids get used to me being sniffly).  I may fool (some of) the rest of you, but my kids know that I'm very emotional.  They've also learned, however, that emotions don't dictate what you do. 

I can be glad they're doing what they want, and I can also be extremely sad that they're leaving.  It doesn't mean I'm going to cling to them or hold them back. 

Why I will be sad

Here are a few snapshots of our day today.

I dropped daughter off at her AP Biology exam.  Younger son has been sick with a fever for the last half week so I assumed that he'd spend the morning sleeping or listening to a book on tape.  He's reached an age where he doesn't like to be bothered when he doesn't feel well.  I planned on getting things organized around the house during the morning.

Instead, he was fever free and alert when I got home.  I finished reading The Magician's Nephew to him while he ate a bit of breakfast.  He reads plenty of books on his own, but I still like to read out loud because we end up talking about the books during the reading.  When we finished, he mentioned that he'd like to do something together so I jettisoned the organizing from my mental day-timer.  Okay, I jettisoned the entire mental day-timer, and we started on a puzzle. 

Older son went to pick up daughter, and I made a nice-and-warm-on-a-cool-rainy-day/younger-son-is-better/daughter's-last-test-is-done* brownie for lunch.  Younger son was waning so he had lunch with the Cartoon Network.  The other three of us had a long discussion on the revelation of some of the Cylons on Battlestar Galactica (we just finished watching season three), how that revelation will effect the other characters, and who remains.  We talked about the difference between a movie we recently watched and the book it came from.  Then the conversation drifted off into current affairs (heavily influenced by the recent Economist magazine), including the interactions between China and Japan, why Obama is considered a young president, and the increase of Roma emigration from the Czech Republic to Canada.**

In between and during other things, older son and I have been harmonizing on the bass and soprano parts of the psalms we're working on in choir. 

I'm writing this at 4 pm.  We'll have a bit of quiet time, then more interesting conversation during dinner and watching a movie together.

Why should I be glad when all this is gone?  - the singing, the book discussions, the political discussions, the conversations with three young people who think about everything.  When all three are off at college or beyond, dear husband and I will still enjoy these conversations, but they'll be two-sided, not five.  And we don't sing together.*** 

Here, for one brief moment, I will, again, be absolutely and totally honest.

For the last twenty-one years, I've thrown the majority of my energy, emotions, and considerable intellect into raising, homeschooling, interacting with, exploring with, advising, being pushed by, and loving, three wonderful human beings.  I've always encouraged them to follow what they love - that's the largest reason for homeschooling - where it takes them.

Of course it will take them away.  And, it will break my heart, because, of all the possible things I could envision (including being in Broadway musicals (grin)), I can't picture any "job" I could have had that I would love better than homeschooling.  Being with three people I absolutely love, every day, talking about a wide variety of subjects,**** showing them the things I love, exploring what they love, getting through the things that neither of us care about,***** building layer upon layer of "in jokes," "in songs," shared books, movies, places, etc., watching as they grow - this engages my mind, my emotions, and my musical sensibilities.  You can't come up with a job that's going to do more.  No other job will ever involve this much of me - body,****** mind, and spirit. 

Of course I'm going to be immensely sad when it's over - or even when any part of it is. 

And I'm not going to apologize for that.

And a Broadway song to take it home

I put this post together while taking a walk today.  "Open a New Window," from Mame, came up on my mp3 player, and I repeated it over and over.  It goes along with this post in so many ways.

Unfortunately, my web browser crashes every time I try to add the embedded music player to this post so I had to put the song in another post.  Click here to listen. 

* She's been stressed about the SAT and APs.

**  The conversations I have with dear husband and my kids are more consistently far ranging than those I have with almost anyone else.  

*** I don't know why.

**** I majored in math.  Do you know how often I get to discuss it?  Only when homeschooling.  Older son finds it as fascinating as I do.

***** Handwriting.

****** Broadway dance, for instance

[Written Monday but posted today because of my internet problems.  The flowers are in our gardens, and I took the sunset photo from our front porch.]

Comments

[Carrie K.]

Oh, Laura - you're not a bad mom to feel those things - you're a wonderful and honest mother. How could you not be sad/happy/worried/proud/afraid and everything in between? I cried just reading your post, and I've got years ahead of me before I go through this phase of our homeschooling journey. I watched one of my best friends deal with the sadness her children leaving home brought on - and she didn't even homeschool - and it took her a couple years to feel ready to embrace the new phase her life had entered.

You will be in my prayers, Laura - and thank you so, so much for your honesty. (Hugs)

[DebD]

I don't think you're a clingy mom for being sad. I think it is extremely normal. In fact, I'm a bit surprised that anyone would think that it is clingy to miss your kids. These have been the best years of my life and, while in some ways I'm ready to move on, I am not ready for all my little chicks to leave the nest.

I loved what you wrote here:
"For the last twenty-one years, I've thrown the majority of my energy, emotions, and considerable intellect into raising, homeschooling, interacting with, exploring with, advising, being pushed by, and loving, three wonderful human beings. I've always encouraged them to follow what they love - that's the largest reason for homeschooling - where it takes them.

Of course it will take them away. And, it will break my heart, because, of all the possible things I could envision (including being in Broadway musicals (grin)), I can't picture any "job" I could have had that I would love better than homeschooling. Being with three people I absolutely love, every day, talking about a wide variety of subjects,**** showing them the things I love, exploring what they love, getting through the things that neither of us care about,***** building layer upon layer of "in jokes," "in songs," shared books, movies, places, etc., watching as they grow - this engages my mind, my emotions, and my musical sensibilities. You can't come up with a job that's going to do more. No other job will ever involve this much of me - body,****** mind, and spirit. "

I agree completely.

[Emily]

Thanks for taking the time to write down what I'm feeling! ;-) Obviously with some names and dates and details different... if it helps you feel any better you are not alone in your emotions and I've talked with others who feel the same. Maybe next time the topic comes up be more honest & revealting in your answers and the person you are talking with might come clean about how they really feel too! :-)

[GreenJello]

Of course you will miss them! I'd wonder if you didn't. They've been such an integral part of your daily life for a very long time.

I'm excited for my kids to fly from the nest (for their sakes), but not for mine!

[Karen-In-Law]

I have never thought of you as a clingy mother. You've been building deep friendships with your kids and dreading the loss of daily interaction in those relationships seems natural and human to me. Parents who don't choose to homeschool might face a bit of that separation earlier, but I would have thought it would be understandable to anyone who enjoys the company of their kids. I'll face that in the fall when Noah starts school and I'll lose my main alone time with him. And I felt it when I lost that with Emma, too. There's a loss of intimacy then that saddens me. It can be created in other ways, but it will never be exactly as it was. I'm happy for how they grow as they move into their own worlds, but can't help but be aware of the impact on me.

[Steve]

And your writing here maybe helps me acknowledge and deal with my own dread of the loss. I hate so much to lose things that I can worry the whole time I have them. Silly, but I've always done it.

I see them less, since I go to work most days - in the evenings, mostly, and I feel with Oldest I'll still have most of that. So I don't feel his impending departure as much - but Daughter is another story. She's going to really leave. Ans she's in a particular spot in my heart, a place she went during that first hour when she slept in front of my face under that warm white blanket in the delivery room. And the spot has grown into a great country full of tall trees and very blue rivers all under warm golden sunlight. It will be cloudy there for the first time after she goes off to college...

[M Light]

Carrie: Thank you! Sorry for making you cry (hugs).

DebD: Thank you! That section just flowed out of me.

Emily: You haven't really mentioned it on your blog, but I could tell (grin).

GreenJello: Exactly!

Karen-in-law: Especially as they get older, it's more and more like friendship.

So, when older son heads off to NCSU, it's like he's getting on the big yellow bus for the first time? (grin) {{{{{}}}}'s about Noah - I'm never sure whether these things are more difficult with the first one or the last one.

Steve: Oldest will change so much the first few months - more than daughter will her first few, I think.

[lisahgolden]

I'm in awe of the balance you've achieved between parenting and everything else.

Every morning when I walk into the laundry room and see The Dancer's graduation gown hanging there in its garment bag, I have to choke back tears.

Ours has been a gradual slipping away since she got her driver's license and a job. She leaves in the morning and most evenings we don't see her again until after 9pm because of her busy work/dance schedule.

Still - it won't be easy. And with her departure from us and into her own life as a adult, our family changes, even if ever so slightly, it changes.

Let's just say I find myself lingering longer over my goodnight kiss and hug with her. And thank goodness she chose the school 2 hours away instead of 7 or 12 hours away!

[Karen-In-Law]

Let me add that there will be a big impact on Younger Son, too. I still remember when my two older siblings left the house, both near the same time. It was a great big hole and our remaining family dynamic had to grow to fill it. (Didn't matter that I rarely saw them out of their Lower Level Lairs.) M'Light and Steve are the oldest -- they haven't experienced that end of things before!

[M Light]

LisahGolden: (hugs) - that's a very vivid reminder.

I think something more gradual is at least a little easier. When older son was working 3 days a week, we got used to seeing much less of him. Since his job ended, we've gotten spoiled again.

I'm glad she chose the closer school. Daughter's preferred school is 3 1/2 hours away. Her second choice is an hour further so I'm hoping for the first.

Karen-in-law: I've wondered what it will be like for just three of us to be here - it's been 17 years since we've had that. This house will seem huge. You're right; I've never experienced it.