The Chick has Flown the Coop!

My eldest daughter left the nest. On Saturday, fifteen months after earning her college degree and struggling in this hellish economy to land a career-track job, Stephanie moved to her own apartment. Her persistence prevailed and she is now on her own. She earned her wings, and I'm very proud of her.

Stephanie's departure provoked my thinking about the differences between the genders.  When my son, Joey, moved out on his own I didn't worry about him. He's a big, strong guy who can take care of himself.  On the flip side, Steph is five-foot nuttin'.  Now, in a verbal battle my diminutive darling could shred Darth Vader into scrap metal with her arsenal of witty sarcasms.  Unfortunately, I doubt her worthy one-liners will stave off any bad guys intent on harm.

Is it fair that we sent our son on his merry way armed with reminders to wash behind his ears and eat his veggies, but we're itching for Stephanie to attend ninja training?  Although I spent equal mama tears on my departing children, Joey's move brought fewer fears than Stephanie's.  Does her smaller stature really mean she is less equipped than her big brother to live alone?  Or does it just mean I'm gender biased? I'm not sure.

Stephanie's move also spotlighted the difference in priorities between my husband and me.  We embarked on a shopping excursion to purchase a few things we thought she might need, and boy did we have different ideas about what those might be.  Joe opted for a measuring tape, a deadbolt, picture hangers and nails.  I collected cute oven mitts, matching dish towels, an African violet and a cheery flower pot.  We met at the check-out, eyed the item groupings of tools from daddy, decor from mama, and chuckled.  Kids really do need both a mom and a dad, just for balance. 

Fortunately for me I have yet one little chick snuggled in the nest.  Christy is flexing her wings daily and in just a few years she, too, will take flight.  Still, our nest will never be empty.  Even with the kids on their own Joe and I will be here warming the roost, planning and dreaming of our future which is, ironically, how we started out thirty years ago.  Things do come full circle.

And you know what, buttercup? That sounds like a perfect flight plan to me.

'Til next time -
Lisa

Zoom Zoom!

This past week has found me spending every spare moment driving round and round, backwards and forwards, in and out, at the high school parking lot. My youngest daughter got her driving permit last week and has been itching for time behind the wheel. Not yet ready for the open road, we're still in practice mode. That's where I've been, y'all. Sitting in the passenger seat. In a parking lot.

My son got his license to drive a decade ago. My oldest daughter has been zoom-zooming for six years. Now my youngest has reached that milestone and I don't know whether to be thrilled that my days of playing taxi will be over in a year, or sad that this phase of my life is nearing an end.

I've done my time in the driver's seat, no doubt about it. I, like most moms, have spent countless hours schlepping the young 'uns to and fro and, like most moms, I have done my share of grumbling about it. The truth is, though, that there is a certain control we maintain when we're in the driver's seat; and there is a certain control we relinquish when we toss the keys to junior (or juniorette) and say, "Be home by 11:00." I've successfully done that tossing the keys thing (literally and figuratively) twice. This third time will be bittersweet, as it will be my last.

The benefit, I guess, is that I will be back in the driver's seat. For now, though, I'm content to buckle up next to my driver-in-training. The view from the passenger side is pretty sweet, too.

Til next time,
Lisa