Friday, March 4, 2016

Virginia Woolf, What Were You Thinkin'?

"A place of one's own" Yep. That's what Virginia Woolf said, a directive toward becoming more productive was to square off a "place of one's own" - a place free from kids, spouses, distractions. Dedicated space.


So if you recall, in January I began this pursuit. I emptied the "She-She (chichi) Shed" toward creating my writing cave - something away from the daily hub-bub of domestic bliss. It's still rough, but it's coming along nicely.

Then last night reality set in. For the first time in 20 years, my husband and I had a childless night. I kid you not. For some reason, our children have never been both out of the house at the same time. But last night, the stars aligned and our off-spring were both away on the same night with separate housesitting gigs. It didn't occur to me until we were seeing off the sixteen year old to his housesitting job that this was it. We were, (at least for one night), empty nesters.

I'll admit it. There were a few tears. I missed the noise - the sound of an electronic device in operation in every room of the house, lights left on in the wake of leaving a room, the microwave beeping at midnight when someone decided they needed hot cocoa or the toaster popping, or an all out gourmet meal being prepared unbeknownst to me.

I slept like a baby.

Slept until 6AM, (which is an accomplishment for this insomniac), until the phone rang. It was the twenty year old calling to inquire about the driving conditions from her housesitting gig to the home where she no longer officially lives, but spends every non-sleeping, non-schooling hour. (Yes, she has an apartment of her own, but there's food at my house.)

By 7:30 - when I was about to walk out the door to work - the sixteen year old called to say he was ready to be picked up from his housesitting gig. (He refuses to get a driver's license, which is the topic for a whole other blog.) He had to shower at home with his stuff. It seems like I'm the only one who slept through the night.

Sigh. Well, the She-She Shed continues, (or will continue.) But in the interim, I've had a taste of life as an empty nester with mixed reviews. I'm at work now. Both kids are back at my house, sleeping off the anxiety associated with responsibility. Whew. Virginia Wolfe? Really? Is there such a thing as a "place of one's own"?

Guess I'll see.

4 comments:

  1. Hi Sofie--
    Great that you got a taste of being an empty-nester. Always a pleasure to read about your adventures at home.
    Victoria--

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  2. I must admit. I love being an empty nester. I calculate I have taken care of my boys for a total of about 40 years. And while I am ready to don my superhero mom came at a moments notice it is me time now

    Your she shed sounds great. No doubt you will produce a whole new batch of kids there

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  3. Oh, Sofie...
    I've been an empty-nester for almost a decade. But not an empty-lifer! There's not a day or night goes by that I don't think of or hear from my kids. That's the joy of a job well-done.
    And it's obvious that you've done a great job or they'd be long gone and never let you know where they are or with whom.
    And that happens more than you think.
    Don't forget, Virginia Woolf didn't have children -- a room of her own was never in doubt.
    And before long, you'll have your kids' kids... a whole other joy! Sleep well - you've earned it.

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  4. :) thanks all. You give me hope for a smooth transition.

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