3 Things I've Learned in my First 3 Weeks Empty Nesting

If you're a new empty nester like me, you're likely having some of the same experiences I am. If you're looking ahead to this season, here are some things I've learned in the first three weeks of empty nesting.

It's not like I didn't see it coming. We've been preparing for this day for months, if not years. But knowing it's coming is one thing; living through it is quite another.

I have two daughters, two years apart. One is a junior in college this year and one is a freshman. The junior had been living at home and attending our local university for the past two years and this year she decided she wanted to live on campus. And the freshman couldn't wait to move out on her own to a college 9 hours away.

But here we are. They are definitely adjusting well and living their best lives, and I'm over here trying to make sense of what just happened.

3 Things I've Learned in 3 Weeks of Empty Nesting

Here are a few things we've learned in the first few weeks of having the house to ourselves.

1. Everything feels different, but nothing has really changed.

I've been married for 24 years and had kids for more than 20 of those years. In some ways, my husband and I are the same people who fell in love all those years ago, and in some ways we've been changed by the life we've lived together.

The stress of raising kids has brought us closer, and made us more dependent on each other and on the Lord, who is the only one who loves those kids more than we do. (And the only one who knows what to do with them when we've run out of answers.)

The house is empty, but their rooms are still here. This is still home.

The dog is a bit confused, but he's content to lay at my feet while I'm working at my desk, like every other day before now.

I still spend my days doing mostly the same things: designing, decorating, blogging. What's different is the evenings, after school should be over.

One thing that's become more obvious over time, but really hasn't changed a bit, is that we have no control over what happens to our kids and how they run their lives. They're off on their own, making their own decisions now.

But really, they've been making their own decisions for years, and allowing us to hang on to the illusion of control for as long as we could.

This is a season of trust. Trusting them to make good decisions, and trusting God to protect them, sometimes from themselves.

And as I write that, I realize it's been the same since the days they were born. We were never really in control. If we had been, they probably wouldn't have turned out to be the lovely young ladies they are today, with good hearts, strong wills, and steady minds.

2. Time is more variable than constant.

My days, and indeed my whole yearly calendar, used to be run by the kids' schedules. I used to know what day it was by what after school activity was happening.

Now I have a lot more free time, and it's as if time itself has slowed down. And sometimes it speeds up.

I don't know what day it is anymore, and I'm constantly surprised when my husband shows up from work at the end of the day. Is it that time already?

Eventually I'm sure I'll get into more of a rhythm, but my ADHD brain is a little intimidated by the thought of having to maintain my own schedule. How do people do that? Can someone please give me some tips?

Also, this is weird too: when I clean something...it stays clean. Gasp! What is that?

3. Grief is good.

This is the hard part. It's just really sad that the little people who have been attached to me for the last 20 years are gone. There's no easier way to say it.

The house doesn't feel the same and their rooms are impossibly empty. And clean.

The sight of their clean bedrooms, which used to feel like such a triumph, now just feels like a snag in the fabric of reality.

I've never been good at processing feelings of sadness. I usually just get mad. But there's no one here to get mad at. And so I am left with a feeling of loss that I've been sidestepping at every opportunity until now.

It was so fun preparing to move them into their dorms. We shopped and decorated and packed and shopped some more.

Then we moved them in, which was exciting and exhausting and fun.

Then we drove home to an empty house and reality set in.

Gradually over a few weeks, both the dog and I are realizing that they won't be home this evening. It's not goodbye forever, but just for every day until they come home.

Which makes me mad. I mean sad. I'm growing.

I think the only way to come to terms with the loss is to say with Winnie the Pooh, how lucky I am to have something which makes saying goodbye so hard.

Grief is hard but necessary. I know can't hold onto them as children forever, and grief is the bridge that walks me through letting those babies go, so I can enjoy the adults that they've become.

I have the beginning of a tiny spark of hope that here's good stuff on the other side, if I can let go long enough to reach for it.

How to Empty the Nest Without Falling Apart

I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to have all this happen at the same time perimenopause is wreaking havoc on my emotions, but I would like to speak to their manager.

Also, why is it that the kids only leave the house once they've become wonderful human beings again, after the preceding years in which I was fully prepared to drop kick them out the door multiple times a day?

Seems like a timing problem to me. Someone should look into that.

In the meantime, I'm working on shoring up my support system to make things easier to navigate. Here's how.

Call in reinforcements.

I thought having mommy friends was crucial while my kids were babies and toddlers, but it turns out I need them more than ever now. We raised our kids together for 20 years and now we're sending them off together. That's a story arc.

If you have people who have known your kids since they were little, now's the time to call them up and cry on their shoulder. Or go out for margaritas.

If you're not still close to those friends who've known you with spit-up on your shoulder, it's not too late to find some who will go through this next season with you.

Ask around at work or church, or even on social media. Chances are you're not alone in this phase of life, and someone else is wishing for a friend too. It just takes a little bit of work, and vulnerability.

I've even met some really great folks at both my kids' college orientations. It's one of the few places where you know everyone around you is going through the same thing as you are.

Hunker down with the hubs.

This is hands-down my husband's favorite part of empty nesting: he gets me back to himself in the evenings. No more homework, weeknight practices, or last minute Target runs. Just sitting at home together.

It may not sound very exciting, but we've had some really great conversations in the last few weeks, just because we have more time on our hands.

Eventually I think we'll get tired of all the free time and start looking for fun things to do together, but that's a problem for another day.

Start something new.

How many hobbies, jobs, outings, or indulgences have you said "no" to over the last 18 years because the kids came first? It's time to pick those up again and start exploring.

Personally, I'm looking for anything that gets me out of the house at this point, but eventually I'll probably narrow that down to the few activities I actually enjoy and want to pursue long term.

Bonus: care packages are worth every penny.

I can't believe how expensive it is to send a box through the mail! Sometimes the postage is more expensive than the contents of the box. But it doesn't matter. There's just something special about getting a surprise in the mail, especially if it comes from home.

If you're not the crafty type, or don't have time to get to the post office, many schools offer a care package service. And you can always send things for free, if you have an Amazon membership.

And of course, don't forget the power of sending a card in the mail. Handwriting a note, and maybe slipping in a gift card, is so old fashioned and so exactly what kids need when they're missing home. (Or if they're not missing you enough.)

Don't underestimate how much your kid needs to hear from you, even if it seems like they've completely moved on already.

Or maybe it's just me, needing to feel like I can reach out and touch them in some way. Either way, this is one parenting job that doesn't end with kids leaving home: being the one to say "I love you" first.

Sometimes when it feels like the end, it's really just a fresh start.

So here's to empty nesting well. It's OK if it doesn't always feel good, but may we embrace the changes and forge ahead with hope and anticipation for where the next chapter will take us.

And if you need a hormonal, intermittently teary, inexplicably sentimental, empty nester friend to commiserate with and share a glass of sangria with, I'm your girl!