Bye Bye Baby

Why does no-one tell you?. I was totally unprepared.

We've just taken our eldest boy to his very prestigious university. We couldn’t be more proud. For the last 2 years all our energy has gone into supporting his efforts, helping with preparations for exams, interviews, making sure he hit all the deadlines, helping with his personal statements. He worked so hard. No-one deserved success more than him. Then, offer secured and exams passed. So exciting. Champagne and celebrations. A lovely summer holiday. Lots of high jinx with his friends. Lots of smug boasting to colleagues at work. At last time to go. Deciding what to take; laughing, teasing about cooking and laundry, the price of food. Piling it all into the back of the car and off we go. Picked up his room key, marvelled at his beautiful college grounds. Chatted with the other mums and dads. So proud. So pleased. He was in his element. Glowing with excitement. Wanting us to go so he could dive right in, soak it all up.

Back in the car. Then it hit us. Out of the blue, a stomach churning jolt of dread. What was going on? I hadn't felt this bad since my first proper boyfriend dumped me when I was sixteen. That was it. We'd just said goodbye to our baby. We've done our bit, it's all in his hands now.  Half of me was saying 'For Gods sake, get a grip. He'll be back for Christmas in a few weeks. He's only 2 hours away, we can pop down and see him any time we like. We've still got the other boy at home.'  But it didn't make any difference. What I was experiencing, what we both were feeling was real grief. I was quite literally bereft. Welcome to Empty Nest Syndrome.

Quite frankly and to my shame, I think part of the problem is pure green-eyed envy. My university years were some of the best years of my life. I enjoyed every minute of them and he's got it all ahead of him. I'm so jealous!

But mostly, I'm in mourning because that time, the years watching him grow, being the most important person in his life is over and however our relationship develops in the future, it will never be the same again and I miss it.

What will it take?

What will it take to make you see?
I feel you just want sex, you don't want me.

A hand reaches out across the bed.
Can't you feel me shrink, roll over, pretend to sleep?

Can't you see that demanding more makes me want it less?
Sleazy gifts of satin and lace? Naughty toys? They're just for boys, they leave me cold.

What does it take to turn me on?

Well.....................

When was the last time you made me smile?
When was the last time you smiled at me?

When was the last time you lingered in a room, just because I was in it?
When was the last time you touched me for no reason at all?

To be greeted with 'Your dinner is ready' rather than 'When will dinner be ready?' would make my day. To be greeted at all even.

When I make lunch, I make yours too. When you make lunch it's just for you.

You live your life, I live mine. In the hurly burly of babies and boys, schoolwork, work-work, homework, housework, there's you and there's me. What happened to we?

Just be nice. How hard could it be? A hug that's just a hug. Not foreplay.

Just be there once in a while. To chat, to pass me a clothes peg or a knife. To listen to a snippet from the paper, gossip about the neighbours, laugh at crap on TV. To tease the boys, tell them how we met, what fun we had when we were young, the places we've been, the things we've seen.

Come out of that office, that retreat. Come live in our world with your boys and me. Let me see you laugh and see you smile, the colour of your eyes, the smell of your skin. The way you slouch in blue jeans. Wear blue jeans, not those old man trousers you've started to wear. Put on some music, play it loud, let me dance.

Stop worrying about the sex. The sex is fine. It's the rest that's wrong.

Why can't you see what it's like to be me?
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Well, that just poured itself onto the page one Sunday afternoon but then I got to thinking- always a bad idea where I'm concerned.

What is it like to be you then? what's it like being married to a bad tempered, grumpy old woman who's always 'too tired'; always making excuses? Do you wish things were different? My friends think I'm mad when I groan about the incessant demands but I can't help thinking that it's not me you want, I'm just convenient, available (Haha, you wish). Or. Maybe it's the only way you can think of to show me you love me?

Yeah, Right.