Ah… Peace and Quiet

Both of my birdies have flown the coop, and some people have asked me if I am sorry my nest is now empty. I can say with all truthfulness that, no, I rather like being one of two mature adults in a large four-bedroom home. We keep it tidy, and have the bonus of having sex right out in the open whenever we want.

Ah, but that was not to last for long.

Ms. MiniD came home from the Left Coast on Sunday. I don’t know why. She hates it here, and has alienated most of her high school friends with her high jinx regarding her ex-boy du jour. (That’s because her best friend is now with ex-BDJ. It appears the two were commiserating during my daughter’s dumpage of the boyfriend, and ended up together. I say, bully for you! And yes, my daughter is mad at me too, for thinking that.) She has a Left Coast boyfriend, but his mother doesn’t like her. I’m thinking the shelf life on that relationship is coming due soon.

I wanted to make something nice for dinner Sunday, something benign that everyone likes, so I chose a half of pork loin. It’s the new white meat, and I can make gravy, which all Demonics love. (Except for me. That’s because I’m Asian, and they are Bohemian. Bohunks lurve the gravy. They crave it. They bitch when they can’t have any. Me, I can take it or leave it.) I made some of my fresh Brussels sprouts newly picked from the garden and sauteed them with garlic. It was a dish meant for royalty.

Ms. MiniD turned up her nose and said, “I don’t eat pork anymore.” When that happened, I don’t know. She did inform me that she now consumes guacamole. I pointed her to the avocados and told her to have at it. She left with her friend before dinner was ready, and didn’t come back until after I went to sleep.

The next day, Ms. MiniD slept in until noon. She left sometime in the afternoon with her friend, and returned later that night. My husband, the dear Mr. Demonic, could not sleep that night, so he woke up at 2 a.m. to go to the office. (If you saw his office, you would know that he needs many, many 2 a.m. wake up calls to clean up that disaster.) He informed me when he returned at a more decent hour of the morning that Ms. MiniD had male company, and “who was that guy?”

If you know me, you know that I am clueless, particularly when it comes to Ms. MiniD. The other child tells me everything, and this one lies like a rug. Mr. D said the two were awake but under a furry throw, implying that some adolescent hanky was being pankied. I said, “Didn’t you ask her who it was? Didn’t you ask what they were doing?” To which, he replied, “NO!” Mr. D plays the Denial Game to its fullest potential.

Ms. MiniD and her friend have been after my husband to take them snowboarding at the condo. My husband doesn’t snowboard (or ski, or snowmobile) but Ms. MiniD is Daddy’s Little Girl. (Yes, even though she is over 18.) And of course, you know me. I despise our Tundra winter with a passion that could illuminate several Christmas trees, and don’t like to go outside at all until the crocuses pop up.

The upside to all this is that Mr. D, Ms. MiniD, and her friend are now 200 miles away. Last night, I was able to work on my novel for five, uninterrupted, peaceful, gloriously quiet hours. Well, except for Grace the dog snoring at my feet.

The Demonics will be gone until Friday. I’d better take advantage of the peace and quiet and work quickly.

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Today’s Stark Realizations

Every so often, I’m struck by glances of intelligence. Today was one of those days.

I just realized that as long as my son is here, visiting us from his new home on the West Coast, I am not going to get anything of any importance done.

This is not because he needs his mommy to hold his hand or to help him figure out things to do. He hasn’t been here in a year and a half; he has plenty of things to do. Besides, he has a girlfriend in attendance to help him with that.

My stark realization came when I went to tidy up the house a bit this morning. Not only is my daughter a slob, my son is one, too. My world is now complete! He had his checkbook, Christmas cards, gifts, shoes and jacket in various spots in the house. Although he is in his adult years, he sometimes acts like a helpless child. He is using the power cord to my laptop, since his no longer works. This means that I can’t write at home. He “borrowed” my USB storage for all the pictures they took. (I said, “Go ahead and take it” because it is easier to buy another one than to hope for him to send it back.) He ate (among many other things) an entire box of Godiva chocolate I received as a Christmas gift from one of my employees.

The other major thought I have is that perhaps I have gotten too used to my semi-empty nest. This is somewhat disturbing, yet also exhilarating. It’s disturbing in the fact that my children are not my main focus, but it’s exhilarating for exactly the same reason.

I love my children, but I really wanted to get away from those days where I was defined by them. “Susie’s Mom” or “Charley’s Mom.” I didn’t have a first name, and only rarely had a last name. The only good thing about being a mom was to finally be known as a “missus” someone. The school would call and say “Mrs. Demonic, I’m afraid you’ll have to come down and get Charley. He stabbed a classmate with a pencil.” Ah, the glory days.

My children were most annoyed when I started taking art classes and violin lessons. At the time, my son was in high school, and I knew my days as Taxi Mom and all-around gopher were almost at an end, so I purposefully made commitments that didn’t include them. They pouted every Monday night when I went to my nude drawing class and they were left to their own devices for dinner. (Just a clarification: I wasn’t nude, the models were.) I found that even though most of my utensils ended up broken and some of my pots burned beyond salvation, they managed to survive their own meals.

Sunday will come soon enough. I always cry when I say good-bye to my son, and no doubt I will again. After the trip to the airport, I’ll go home and kick up my feet in my lovely purple stuffed chair and turn my laptop on using my own power cord and enjoy a bit of peace and quiet.