I have teenagers.
My sons are 13, 15 and 18. Most Friday nights my husband and I are home alone. My sons take many trips out of town, away from us, and off on adventures of one kind or another-- from canoe trips and track meets in other states to trips to serve on boards and working groups clear across the country and sleep overs for birthdays where no one sleeps.
I swear, I am still getting used to this. No children in the house. Teenagers really are a different species all together.
And I can't say it's a bad thing. I like having children who know more than I do and can teach me how to do things or make a stubborn piece of electronics behave or make an entire meal from scratch when I'm not well. It's a good thing. I like it. I hear them talk to each other as they pass in the hallway in the sleepy morning, and I can just hear the future conversations they'll have about what to do, how to cope, when to worry and when to just be brothers. Kinda spooky, yes, but all good.
Our oldest has just finished the whole "which college and when" process. As the May 1st deadline for accepting approaches he's getting lovely calls from places across the continent offering a little more money here and a reduction in tuition there. Thousands of dollars. But he accepted admission to the University of Washington on Monday, and they've placed him as a Jr, because of the two years of work at the community college he did instead of high school. And of all miracles, he's been accepted right into the school of engineering. He'll be done with his BS in about two years, with almost no debt.
How about that?
Yep, that's no kid. That's a fine young adult. With quite a future. And I'll be here. Making pizza on Friday night and holding the holidays as at least a little holy. And he'll go make a life. Just like he's supposed to. They all will. It's a wonderful thing.
And it doesn't always feel completely wonderful to the mom in the house.