When I do things, I like to do them really well. This is how I have become a world class worrier. Amateur worriers worry a few days or months in advance. I believe in rigorous training, so I pre-worry so I can dive into a tailspin when the timing is right.
I have three children and therefore have provided myself enough organic worry content to last my lifetime. The first two (a girl and a boy) are 27 months apart or what normal people call two years apart. Then five years passed and the last one (a boy) arrived.
Our youngest keeps us moving but not young
The medical community says it was a ‘geriatric pregnancy’ but friends say it “must keep us young”. Young is not what it feels like. I prefer to think five years was necessary to rest up prior to completing this household. He is akin to having triplets hopped up on energy drinks. He keeps us moving but not young.
Amid the joy and relief I felt when we had our third healthy baby, one thing that plagued me was how we would only all cross over in the same house for eight years. I lay awake at night thinking about it. He would only have both his siblings for eight years before one would graduate and be gone. It worried me.
It was not fair this fresh wrinkly raisin of a human would only get eight years. It wasn’t his fault he joined the party late. Would he be lonely? How would he manage without the advice and support of his siblings? Would they be close? Who would attend his future concerts or sporting events or art shows? Would these kids know each other in a meaningful way?
I didn’t realize that life does not play out as planned
We can’t know how years will unfold no matter how much we plot and plan and anticipate. I know because I’ve devoted my life to constructing plot only to have all these characters go rogue. The eldest went to college but then spent months at home during the pandemic. The middle one spent a year in the basement during the pandemic because our high school went online.
School was weird and athletics shut down and travel was over and we were all together all the time. We ate family dinners and argued over slow WiFi and played Ticket to Ride. We did get a lot of extra family time and don’t tell anyone but I was delighted.
The eldest graduated from college but ended up moving right back home. Rent is expensive and life is more expensive and she is pragmatic and wants to save money for her future. She drives her youngest brother around and they go to the dollar store and they talk about friends and school and shoe trends.
The second child had unexpected health issues
Then the second child had an unexpected health issue and had to move back from college for medical care. He arm wrestles his brother and they go get burgers and discuss friends and rap music and shoe trends. The ‘baby’ started high school this last year. We all micromanage him and cheer him on at lacrosse games. Together.
We have had extra birthday dinners and extra weekends and extra holidays together that I didn’t anticipate. Stolen moments it seems. Moments I won’t soon forget.
I didn’t plan for our nest to still be full at this time
And when acquaintances see me at the grocery store they say, “Your house must be so quiet now. You are nearly empty nesters.” It’s not and we aren’t. The nest is loud and full and I didn’t plan for any of this. I just smile and fill the cart with more food than I ever thought I’d need to buy this year. I worry less about everything now that I’ve realized I have no idea what will happen.
All my worrying about the last child being lonely was a waste of time. Two of the kids are adults and it won’t be long until they leave for good. But for now, the three of them sit at the kitchen island, fight for the last taco and bicker over who has the worst hair. And I don’t feel worried. I feel grateful.
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