On January 06, 2014, I published a post entitled – ‘an abnormal fear of enclosed or narrow spaces’. That is the definition for claustrophobia, of course. In that offering, I commented on how my four bedroom, 2 bath house with an unfinished basement seemed smaller since two of my children were now adult size. My son is over six feet tall and 190 pounds, my daughter isn’t far behind in either height – 5’9” or weight. I won’t disclose that information if that’s okay. She doesn’t read my blog, but …. . You never know.
Since that was almost four years ago, my youngest has joined the ranks accordingly. She is 14 years old, 5′ 6” and … . Let me just say, appropriately percentiled. The house seemed even smaller.
But – it’s not. Unfortunately.
My son finished up two years at the local community college and transferred to a University downstate. My second child, the hockey player, was shipped, or should I say skated, off to Canada to complete her senior year at a hockey academy. We are all hoping the decision will equate to college opportunities education alone can’t extend. Translation – scholarships. Therefore, only my youngest daughter remains at home. Alone. She eagerly accepts the abundant, over-compensating attention showered upon her. (sarcasm intended)
And – I’m sad. Unfortunately.
Well, of course I’m sad. This IS parenting. However, now I have a shitload of time on my hands I have no idea what to do with. For the last two years, I have been sharing the commute 148 miles ONE way for hockey practice and ‘home’ games. Then, MapQuesting the hell out of Michigan and the surrounding states for tournaments.
Downside to downsizing –
- I over cook at every meal. In the past, I’ve always made extra, anticipating left-overs. Now, even when I try to make less food, I fail miserably.
- I have to cut the grass AND take out the garbage. The worse part. I don’t get yelled at by my daughter for cutting the grass incorrectly. My son has scolded me for taking out the garbage, by the way.
- Material for blog posts have taken a serious hit. My kids kept me hip on what is fad and fabulous. Now what? I’m old.
- I rarely do laundry. Even my youngest started doing her own. Probs best not to touch her clothes.
- There are so few dirty dishes, the dishwasher only runs, like, every third day.
- I had a gallon of milk actually EXPIRE! What the fuck is that all about?
- I don’t bake anymore.
I realize a few of these outcomes are supposed to be good things. But, … . Heavy sigh!
I will spare further details of my postal, parental meltdown. To be perfectly honest, that’s all I really had. Still, I will move forward. I gave myself September to chill. It’s October. So, I’ve decided to focus on … me. Don’t get me wrong. I will never deny my youngest any opportunity. But, hell, I need a little attention. I AM so overdue.
No worries while I fearlessly ponder ‘open’ spaces. One thing will NEVER change. I will always be Random and full of … Nonsense.
