Our eldest son is moving out (again) today. I am….not sad. Mainly because once he’s out, the room he was in will get a serious scrub down, a fresh coat of wax on the floor and paint on the walls. A pale rosy pink,very feminine and lovely, then I am going to move all the stuff in my sewing room across the hall into that room, which is twice the size. The smaller room will also get a coat of paint (color as yet undecided), a bed, an antique dresser, and a comfortable chair (as yet unpurchased, but I’m going to look for something vintage),and turn into the guest room. It will be a little bitty guest room, but right next to the bathroom.
Why am I doing this?? Don’t I love my child enough to maintain a room for him in case he needs to move back? Like some sort of shrine? Of course I love him. Of course he can (VERY conditionally!) move back if he needs to. And, he will get the itty bitty room if he does.
My sewing business is becoming enough that I
need want a bigger room. I have rolls of cloth and many, many lovely shelves that are full of patterns and books on color theory and pieces of esoteric equipment and…I need want more room. Terry has put in a request for a second chair up there, so he can sometimes sit with me when I am working, just like I sometimes sit out in the shop when he is working. I would like that.
So, how do I feel about Eldest Son moving out (again)? I am…well I am happy about it, and I am anxious about it. I am not sure how he’s paying for it all. However, he is doing it, and since he is nearly 25, it is time to let him be a grown man and deal with it all himself. I know he is fully capable of it. We let him move back in when he started school, so he wouldn’t have to deal with working full time while getting back into the swing of education. That was 2 semesters ago, and he says he is ready to move back out. I say “ok then, best wishes and come by for a meal once in a while”. There is no acrimony, which is really, really nice. Just a bit of anxiety on my part, but I will get over that.
Probably the biggest source of irritation with the whole affair is…well…Mother In Law related. For some reason, whenever one of our kids moves out, it’s not that they are adults and moving on with their lives, it’s that we “threw them out with the trash” and “don’t love them properly” and “will regret doing that.” Because, y’know…young men in their 20’s apparently still need their mommies. Because yes, we totally dumped all their shi…er…stuff in the front yard for them to contend with. We didn’t find them boxes and let them use Terry’s truck and stock their kitchens with staple food and invite them for a weekly meal and make sure they have enough blankets and towels. No. We threw them out on their naked butts in the cold, cold Winter to starve and fend for themselves because we are lousy parents who Don’t Do It Right.
Scratch that. I am not complaining.
How’s that for passive aggression?
The simple fact-o-th’-matter is that we love our son very, very much, and we are both anxious and excited for his future.