Empty Nesters...Lose the Guilt

Empty Nesters

…Lose the Guilt!

Diane Stolz

2nd Edition

Copyright © 2014 All rights reserved Printed in the U.S.A.

Smashwords Edition

Dedication

To my husband Tom and my kids Bryan, Jeffrey and Julie. Without all of you these stories and this book would not be possible.

Your loving Wife and Mom

Acknowledgements

To my husband Tom Stolz, who provided technical support throughout this publishing journey and, more importantly, emotional support. To our first-born Bryan Stolz, the editor, who dedicated many hours to combing through my words, correcting and offering insightful suggestions. Sorry but I can’t lose the ellipsis…. To our middle child Jeffrey Stolz, who creatively did the cover design and formatting for the book. Sorry you had to kick me out of the room that day. And to our youngest, Julie Stolz, who will take on the challenge of publicist to promote the book. I do believe she and Daniel F. have me headed to Facebook. There was also Sarah Stolz, my daughter-in-law, who encouraged us all with her enthusiasm.

I cannot thank all of you enough

Introduction

Empty Nesters…Lose the Guilt! is a humorous romp through the years of raising kids to remind this kid pleaser generation of Empty Nesters why it’s finally time to make life about you. We’ll start by revisiting those moments of parenting that have faded to a blur. Remembering all the day-to-day undertakings of raising the kids, will help you realize, as an Empty Nester, why it’s now time for life to evolve around you. For our generation of kid-pleaser parents, this is hard. Previous generations parented on the loving premise of like it or lump it or children should be seen but not heard. They didn’t need this book.

But this generation has delved so deeply into the kids’ interests and activities, we arrive at this point in our lives hesitant to embrace all it has to offer, even guilty we aren’t including our children. Guilt unimaginable, after all we’ve done for those kids! We simply have to find a way to Lose the Guilt!

Remember back when we felt like a life support system, when every move our children made was dependent on our planning, developing, and execution? How about all those chores charts, the hours of sitting in bleachers, teachers’ gifts, and joining the parent-teacher association. There was the hoopla of the holidays, vacation bonding, madness of birthday parties, and shopping meltdowns. Don’t forget all the playdates and being talked into getting the mutt, which was optional.

You’ll soon appreciate all you deserve as an Empty Nester. Besides, our enjoying this time of our lives transforms into our kids’ freedom. Until they boomerang back. So, join me as we embark on this humorous walk through the years, remembering why it’s now time to enjoy the well-deserved rewards awaiting!

And do it….

amazingly Guiltless!

Chapter One - Life Support System

So about Lamaze…you must be kidding.

Breathe away the pain, not happening. Regardless, the end result is a wonderful bundle of joy snug in our arms. Okay, good, they’re taking the baby to do what they do. We’re now in the midst of the post-birth hustle bustle, which seems like white noise in the background. Wow, we say to ourselves, I did it. I really did it. The time will be embedded in our memories forever: 4:59 p.m., 12:39 p.m., 8:59 a.m. respectively for our kids. Most of us can spout the exact time we gave birth without a thought. We remember those precise times simply because it is at that very moment it all begins.

The hospital stay feels safe. There’s always someone to help. Part-time mommy, part-time patient, and always safe. Then, what feels like ten minutes after we deliver, we’re out the door and home. Why didn’t I ask more questions when I was in the hospital? Are there any written instructions in the patient-belongings bag? we frantically ask our husbands? The husband, who’s standing there staring with a look of, But you’re a woman, don’t you automatically know what to do? It’s at that very moment you realize maternal instinct is about as helpful as Lamaze.

The next year of life is like nothing we could have ever imagined. Some senses became heightened, like the sense of hearing. Was that thud his bottle hitting the floor from the swing while watching Sesame Street, as we’re in the next room emptying the dishwasher and talking on the phone? Other senses were dulled, like smell and touch. Think about it. Before you became a parent, do you ever remember touching human urine and feces six to eight times a day? You health care professionals don’t count…you wear gloves. Diaper changes become as unconscious an act as buttering toast.

Those eyes in the back of her head your mom talked about? They’re real, and now we’ve got them. You even start to develop a craving for plain Cheerios and Goldfish, whether scooped from the box or the seat of the car. This transformation of the five senses should not be taken lightly. The fibers of our being are changing forever. There is no going back and no controlling its course, not even with Lamaze. This is the first true sacrifice of parenting. Handing over our very own five senses to our children, causing those senses to take on a life of their own…forever.

Soon, we began to experience the delight of the first smile. A baby’s grin is the main reason we forgive them for the first year of their lives. It doesn’t take children very long at all to realize the impact their smiles have on us. They must notice the sheer outrageous enthusiasm we all show for them. Firstborn children have hundreds of pictures documenting these happy expressions. Second born and on, not so many, but this is when all our children reel us in. In other words, we are completely transformed into their life support system.

Becoming their life support system is the single most unappreciated thing we do as parents. It’s not the kids’ appreciation I’m talking about here, although they definitely don’t appreciate it, it’s all the other aspects of our lives. Take the first doctor appointment when our child was two weeks old. Much like a mother bear, the protective instinct kicked right in. We drove a little slower, held the wheel a little tighter, and any car coming close to cutting you off felt like an attack on our baby cub. Even the doctor approaching with the obnoxiously large tongue blade felt threatening. So when we stood in the way to keep one comforting hand on our child, resulting in the doctor having to climb over us, they should have understood. When we grabbed the nurse’s hand at our child’s first immunization, pleading for another minute, they needed to understand. When we stumbled out of the office disoriented, dripping perspiration, and forgetting to write the check for the co-pay, they needed to understand. But they didn’t. Nope, instead they talked about us in the staff lounge over coffee.

Another example was at the elementary school. Man oh man, no understanding there at all. We arrived on the first day of kindergarten, showered and dressed as if going to a job interview, entrusting our child, also perfectly groomed, to the school to educate. Handing over to them the responsibility of their breathing, talking, walking, sitting, eating and, if they’ll do it in school, excreting. Everything we completely wrapped our life around for what seemed like thirty or forty years, but was usually only four or five. And all we do is ask a few little questions about the sturdiness of the chains on the swings in the playground, wonder aloud if three kids in one seat on the bus is a good idea, and express our concern about the teacher wearing the top with her cleavage showing. Again, they needed to understand. But they didn’t. Nope, instead they talked about us in the teachers’ lounge over ham sandwiches and tomato soup.

Shopping was another challenge that showed the outside world’s total lack of understanding of a parent’s life support system role. A single item you wanted to find so badly for your child became the whole focus of your existence. You spent more money on gas during your search than the item was even worth.

You elbowed your way through racks and tables to find the size or exact color you wanted. You nicely asked the salesperson, Do you have a size large Steelers jersey in the back? or Do you possibly have this Barbie backpack in purple? When they nonchalantly replied, I don’t think so, you just couldn’t help yourself. Out it came in a harsh, threatening voice. Could YOU CHECK? Yup, you yelled at them, and they really did need to understand. But they didn’t. Nope, instead they went to the back, pretended to look for thirty seconds, returned to tell you no then talked about you at the water cooler during their break.

They did not understand.

So it’s obvious how underappreciated being a child’s life support system is. But let’s not forget the tremendous amount of endurance it also entailed. In the first eighteen years of our child’s life, an hour rarely went by when we didn’t need to check on, get, or do something for them. Basically, our lives were a constant hum of checking, getting, and doing. They come into this world completely helpless, and it’s a very gradual process to their becoming independent human beings. We deserve credit for just enduring it. The process involved our children having to conquer many milestones along the way. Those monumental moments that tested us, as well as thrilled us, were usually documented in a picture now stuffed in a box at the back of our closet.

One of our children’s first milestones was crawling. This seemed to happen before our eyes with very little effort on our part. You’re in the kitchen making dinner, the baby is playing on the floor next to you, you look away, you look back, and they’re gone. They crawled! That pretty much sums up crawling except for the need to constantly survey the baby’s surroundings. This is when a split second took on a whole new meaning. Wow, she was beside me and now she’s on the other side of the house. Tupperware cabinets became hiding places, lint on the floor became snacks, and up went the gate blocking the stairs. Unless you were a high jumper at some point in your life or a Rockette, those gates were not easy to manage.

Milestone number two is walking…usually. Sometimes girls talk before they walk. Face it, ladies. We get our priorities straight right out of the gate.

Walking is especially exciting for parents of babies with reflux. Reflux is babies spitting up a sour-smelling gooey material every five minutes that the doctor assures you is normal. Our firstborn had projectile reflux. He could shoot out three feet and, if his head had spun around, he could have starred in The Exorcist. Parents of a child with reflux know, thanks to gravity, when they walk, it stops. Walking is also exciting for the babysitter, usually the person privileged to see our children take their first