Oh my goodness that smile. . .
Yep, it’s all there…
and then they sit on the couch doing homework …before leaving for school …and the house is quiet and you miss the noise…
My twins returned to school Sunday after Thanksgiving break and the house is so quiet. I miss the music of their company, the clickety-click of their keyboards, the hum of their guitars, the buzz of their phones, the excitement in their enthusiasm for life.
It is so quiet since they left for school in general. I can’t believe it’s been over two years now since they finished high school and left for Bible school in Germany before beginning their freshman year at George Fox University last year, and now my youngest at 15 is the only one at home all year long.
It’s hard when kids start leaving for school. Since my twins are sophomores in college and them being away is only a temporary time away, I still tell people I have three kids at home. Hey, they are home on Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter and long summer breaks and a few weekends in between, and that counts, right?
I miss the every day noise of all my kids home together.
My youngest, my baby, is the only one at home all year long. And there are so many signs of him growing up. At 15 he’s driving with me with his permit, almost old enough for a license. Working as a referee and lifeguard. Going on long bike rides with his friends. Spending time at his friends’ houses. Thinking for himself. Asking a lot of questions.
When our kids grow up we will miss the noise.
And the laughter.
And the fun.
And the smiles.
And the innocence.
And the screaming through the house.
And the sweetness.
We will even miss the sometimes squabbling amongst themselves as it shows they are alive.
And we may even miss the complaining as it shows they think for themselves.
And, we might possibly miss the hum of their video games, and we will for sure miss the way they play hard at those video games. Their excitement.
We miss the every day ordinary of the everyday soundtrack of their lives in our homes. And we don’t always know we will miss it until it is not there.
So, embrace the noise and the crazy.
And the laughter, and the the wildness, and the instrument playing, and the clapping, and the singing, and the squealing in delight, and the noise, and the craziness. Be glad of it.
Because it means there is life. And that they are home.
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Ahh Laura- thank you for joining me in this journey of musing on motherhood and parenting and How I Mom. . . you will soon be there when you launch your oldest from the nest but as you say we hope our homes are always . a welcoming place- as I knows yours is – you are a great mom-Thanks for reading and interacting!
Oh my goodness! This one hits me squarely in the feels!!! With my oldest being a senior (and only having two), I’m trying to mentally prepare myself for exactly what you e described here. It’s a process very similar to grief…you have to let yourself mourn the family dynamic that was to make room for what will be next. But, man, it’s hard, and there is no real way to understand that until you’re experiencing it. That said, this is what we all should be hoping for — the blessing of kids growing up to be healthy, confident, capable adults who can make the most of their gifts as they add their presence to this world. It’s good to know we’re in it together as parents…and yes, that they come home for those precious holidays and summers and visits! Hopefully, if we establish a quality connection with them now, our homes will always feel like theirs as well. Thank you so much for the great reminder of what’s important, Cornelia! ❤️