Like a homing pigeon returning to the coop, our kids are finding their way back from college.
My nest is full and the birds are hungry.
I have restocked the fridge and pantry with all the favorites in anticipation of the homecoming. In between the preparations for the upcoming holidays, moms are busy cooking their children’s favorite meals in celebration of a semester well done.
My welcome wagon distributes fresh flowers to my daughter’s bedroom and an abundance of junk food to my son's room.
Home sweet home!
Let’s be honest, the warm and fuzzy feeling of seeing your children only lasts about... I'll let you fill in the blank.
Suddenly the children we knew return home as adults and we're walking on egg shells.
As the clock strikes noon my son stumbles from his man cave with a grunt and heads straight for the fridge.
“What’s there to eat?” he asks.
I know he is home because the cheese and crackers purchased for the upcoming family gatherings have disappeared. What happened to my blue tin of Danish butter cookies? A collection of dirty glasses decorates the family room coffee table. He sleeps showers, eats and leaves.
He tells me how happy he is to be home.
We want a little face time with our offspring. Sit with me tell me about your semester, your friends, your travel.
“OK Mom, and did you make a haircut appointment for me?” he asks.
The conversation is fast; a new text has arrived. “Have you noticed all the little things I have done for you?” I implore.
“Umm, sure Mom. Where are the car keys?” is his answer.
He is an angry bird this morning; he had to drive dad to the train station. Four drivers, three cars... you do the math.
Parents reinstate the curfew and ask too many questions. We wait up for them to return to the nest safely. They begin posting a countdown on their return to the dorms.
Home sweet home.
The rhythm of the house changes, we're learning this new dance.
Being together as a family, again.
My daughter has returned home after studying abroad. There is a renewal in her appreciation of things that mean home.
Maybe it's time and distance; maybe it's maturity helps our children notice what coming home really means.
She has been happy to start the holiday baking, but the washing machine only seems to work under my direction.
A friend of mine updates her Facebook status: her house is beginning to resemble a dorm room.
Yes, the nest was tidier and quieter when the birds were absent but flock's song is the music that makes a mom happy.
Enjoy this new tune and be careful as you navigate the eggshells.