Unlike Most People, I’m Glad It’s Monday

It’s seven weeks into the semester and I’m profoundly feeling the effects of the empty-nest. The weekends are the worst, especially Sunday evenings. Some Moms get through this easier than others, but I’m struggling.

Saturdays were always slow mornings, since we went to church on Sundays. Breakfast, hanging out in PJs and then usually a soccer game in the crisp, fall air surrounded by the changing leaves. We would stop at the local cider mill afterward, picking up donuts and cider slushies. I stopped in on my own recently and wow, it just wasn’t fun.Sundays, I go to church alone. Sometimes I run a few errands and write a bit. I always cooked on Sundays and that heightens the sadness.

No, I don’t miss being in the kitchen for two hours chopping, preparing, cleaning and cooking…I do miss the end result of everyone around the table, eating and talking and bonding. I miss hanging out in the living room on Sunday nights deciding on a movie everyone would like. My older daughter made popcorn. I would yell at my son to put away his phone and just watch the movie :).

It sounds simple, but the little things like sports games, church, meals, their friends coming over and just the constant activity brought our home to life. It feels strangely lifeless.

Make no mistake, with all of that activity came frayed nerves and craziness that wore me out. My son annoyed me. My older daughter sometimes prioritized friends over family. Funny how when they are at college, I tend to forget these things. A little peace and quiet should be welcome.

My work is isolated. I have a home office and in the last year (ironic timing with the baby leaving for college), I decided to teach exclusively in our online program. It pays more and I live in the country. I don’t miss the drive into the city campus, but now I have even less communication with other humans. So, I’m looking for a different job. Not to mention, higher education is nothing like it once was and I’m eager to move forward.

Last month, I started volunteering more, began a couple projects I’m really enjoying and made sure to book some girlfriend outings on the calendar. Still, I’m a Mama. It’s not only how I largely defined myself but I actually enjoyed it. They still need me but it’s sooooooo not the same.

My kids all face time me, call and text every day. We also have a family snapchat and family group text. I hear all of this communication is unusual so I’m really grateful. They are cool kids who tell me all about their experiences (good and bad!), and I am truly thankful.

Like starting the first day at a new high school, groups have already been established and I’m wandering from place to place, looking forward to landing in two or three new things that will slowly build this new, peculiar life. Other parents move on and I will too, but it’s a struggle. I also recognize that I must because my kids need to see their Mom happy and secure.

My twins are a few hours away so I was able to see my son a couple weeks ago and we got a hotel room to extend the time we could visit. Quite joyfully, my daughter recently called to say her roommates are leaving this coming weekend and she wants me to come and stay at her apartment just the two of us! She’s making all sorts of plans and I’m stupid-excited. I’ll be cooking on Friday, jumping in the car with the birds on Saturday, stopping at my son’s apartment to drop food and treats to him en route to my daughter’s university an hour past his.

Mondays are welcome mornings for me. After feeling sad on Sunday nights, Mondays feel fresh, like anything is possible, I just need to keep working toward the new goals.

“For everything there is a season…” Ecclesiastes 3:1

About This Mama Duck…

Well, first, the “duck” title is a metaphor for being the leader of my nest (a home on a few acres of land that is in need of updating but with three ducks in college, we’re keeping the outdated kitchen!). The duck metaphor also represents the protector of the babies even if they are now 20, 21 and 21 respectively (did you see this back in April?). Ok, she’s technically a goose but wow, that’s a mad Mama! Apparently, this high school golfer walked too close to her nest! (Click image for goose story.)This Mama Duck is the food-hunter…The food-preparer…(click cone image)And all things home, family and faith. Oh yeah, I’m also an adjunct professor who is looking for a new career now that the baby duck moved to college last month (sniff sniff). This blog was started back in 2013. I took a hiatus from early 2017 until now. Much of the writing over the years was Mama-stuff that was sometimes serious but usually humorous or lighter-hearted. Life got a little harder in the last couple years and so did my heart, so I stopped posting. I didn’t think readers would be interested in the cynical, often depressing writings that were building up in my hard drive (the computer, not my heart…that is softening).

But, I will… maybe… eventually…post a few of the more miserable writings lingering around my office. Why? Well, I’ve been paying close attention in recent years to other 40-and-50-something year old Mama ducks and they too feel a bit confused, angry, struggle with the inequality of it all, wondering how it didn’t turn out quite as expected considering the insane amount of work and sacrifice that went into many relationships, jobs and situations. (Click image for earlier article.)That said, this Mama Duck follows Jesus. It’s shameful how ungrateful I can be when I start questioning God about what I don’t have, didn’t get, haven’t achieved, when I’ve been blessed so much. The cycle goes a bit like this: Injustice makes me mad. I tell God about it. I don’t always act Christ-like when I’m in these fits. I question Him. I get miffed (more on that later…don’t send mean comments…I love the Lord 🙂 ). I have gathered a few writings about wrestling with God….trying to reconcile His love and holiness with the depravity of the world (yes, I’m already highly familiar with the common Christian responses to this issue).  Ultimately, after spiraling through my questions, I end up in the same place: He is Him. I am not. He is the parent. I am the child. He is sovereign. It’s not about me. It’s about those He puts in my path, my church, my heart. It’s about Him. I am a student of His Word and have been serious about my faith-walk for over 20 years. (Click image for earlier article.)Some of the more popular past posts can be found under “Popular Posts” in the header above.

More about me and this blog can be found under About Me in the header above.

Thank you for checking out my blog. I look forward to reading your writings and thank you for reading mine!

 

Trying to get the perfect photo of your moody teens? Graduation? Christmas?

My twins who are the oldest of my three kids were entering the really annoying “teen stage” at about 13 years old. They were still very good kids, but one thing in particular became very difficult for about a year: taking family photos with happy faces!

It was November and I wanted to have the three of them in a decent photo for the annual Christmas card. Whenever I was behind the camera that year, trying to get them all to laugh together became a guaranteed upset and complete failure. So, I decided to have the photo taken somewhere else.

I made a few phone calls and found a place that fit my budget and time frame around sports. As I finalized the date, I casually asked, “Can you please arrange for us to have one of your most fun and friendly photographers? Preferably a female?”

Her stuttering response: “Why, ma’am? Are… your… kids… little ones?”

I can hear her shuffling papers through the phone line. “I thought you told me they were teenagers…?” Poor thing, she was confused.

I was embarrassed and felt compelled to explain that “little ones” behavior often accompanies teenage bodies. But, I didn’t waste her time or mine. The truth is, teens will usually (although not always) behave better for strangers (a.k.a. photographer) than family.

The point of the story? When raising teens, shamelessly ask for help when you need it. Yep, even if that includes the photographer at your local JCPenney studio.

Enough

The world tells me to just be me

But then it says my shirt isn’t tight enough

My skirt isn’t short enough

My waist isn’t tiny enough.

 

Politicians tell me to vote with my head and my heart

Then they claim I’m not pro-murder enough

I’m not woman-enough

Not tolerant enough; while they are utterly intolerant of me.

 

Public education claims it offers more than enough

While U.S. students rank lower than other developed nations.

We haven’t taught them to think independently or problem solve enough

How much mindless testing is going to satisfy the administrative fools enough?

 

Enough with being able to name every Kardashian

but not one Chief Justice in the Supreme Court.

 

Enough with being able to name 7 reality shows,

but not the 7 natural wonders of our beautiful world.

 

Enough selecting friends and presidents because they are our same color or gender.

Enough accepting and promoting liars, cheaters and those who simply don’t believe the rules apply to them – all the while you are forced to follow them.

Enough television, more books.

The Difference in One Year THEN and The Difference in One Year NOW…

Between birth and one year of age, my kids:

Rolled over, crawled, pulled up and walked by 9 months

Ate solid food

Said all family names

Eventually spoke in choppy sentences

Followed book pages with their eyes and hands

Always toddled toward Mama and Dada.

Between 16 and 17 years of age, two of my three kids:

Got their driving permit

Secured a job

Began independently driving a moving vehicle (a.k.a. license)

Brought home a significant other

Starting dating

Attended high school parties and dances

Began walking a little farther away from Mama and Dada….