Ah, empty nesting! That magical stage in life when your home goes from a bustling hive of activity to a serene but echoing shell. My husband loves it! Me? Not as much. We officially became empty nesters during the pandemic, and like everyone who enters this stage in life, we’ve been adjusting and trying to embrace it.
As many do, we downsized into a smaller house, with the best of intentions to be practical in how we used the reduced space. Since we both work from home, we converted the spare rooms into our offices. In hindsight, we might have been a little premature in our removal of spare beds. We did keep a queen bed in the basement for guests and kept the old sofa bed in my husband's office—despite knowing everyone hates sleeping on that bed.
You see, my husband assumed our boys would bask in their newfound freedom, happily skipping away to adulthood and forgetting about us. But me? I was dreaming of a return to the crowded house, filled with laughter, sibling bickering, and—oh, who am I kidding? —lots of clutter, dirty dishes and laundry. I can handle about a week of family chaos before I start to remember all the things I actually really enjoy about being an empty nester - like only having my messes to clean up, watching the TV shows I like, running the household on my sleep schedule (or lack there of), and...I could go on, but you get the idea.
Our downsized life was working out perfectly… until the first Christmas rolled around that all the kids decided to come home simultaneously. Cue the dramatic music! We had three grown boys/men and only two beds (that’s if you count the sofa bed - which everyone would prefer didn't exist). So, we made the logical move and installed a Murphy bed in my office. Practical? Absolutely! Comfortable? You better believe it! We put a very nice mattress on it, so nobody could complain about sleeping on it.
The holiday came, and the claiming of beds commenced. Our rule? First come, first served. It's like F1 drivers jockeying for pole position, but with more sibling rivalry. My husband and I reveled in their attempts to outsmart each other, trying to book flights that would ensure they arrived first or second. The last one in? Oh, you guessed it—the poor soul on the sofa bed, which, despite our 4-inch memory foam mattress topper, remains a torture device of unparalleled design. The Murphy bed, however, was a hit and was reportedly as comfortable as their bed at home. Major win for mom and dad!
Here we are, a few years later, and it's another year when everyone will be home for the holidays. I can already see the wheels turning in our sons’ heads. Two of them have booked their December flights home, while I'm sure the third is strategizing his driving time and route to avoid the sofa bed trap. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulls a “Fast and Furious” stunt to slide into the driveway just in front of his brothers. I can hear the screaching tires and victory yell now.
Will there be bickering this holiday? You bet! Will I love every chaotic minute of it? Absolutely! And will I continue dreaming about swapping that sofa bed for another Murphy bed? Of course— because sooner than later I'm going to get sick of hearing about how bad the sofa bed is, and I'm acutally curious what they will bicker about next (It will probably be about who "cheated" in the last family game, or who ate the last slice of roast beef someone was hiding in the fridge for later.) For now though, nothing says “welcome home” quite like a race to claim the best beds.
So, here’s to empty nesting, where every holiday is a chance to fill our home with love, laughter, sibling rivalry and nostalgia, And if you’re not laughing while your family "fights" over the good beds or the last slice of the roast, are you even doing it right? I think not. ;)
Happy holidays everyone! And to my fellow empty nesters - enjoy having a full house again, even if it's just for a day.
Dejar un comentario
Todos los comentarios se revisan antes de su publicación.
Este sitio está protegido por hCaptcha y se aplican la Política de privacidad de hCaptcha y los Términos del servicio.