I’m outgrowing my usefulness.
As a parent, that’s the overarching goal, right? Do your job. Eventually, those kids won’t need you anymore. I just never thought it would really happen.
When Family Weekend was announced at my daughter’s Floridian college, my husband and I planned a four-day trip for the fes- tivities. Then we discussed what to do with our teenage son and elderly dog. “I’m fine to stay home alone,” our son piped up. “But can you kennel Pete? I don’t want that responsibility my first time home alone.”
Now, I know what you’re thinking. A teenager? Asking to stay home alone?
Exactly how dumb am I? But I have cerebral, rule-follower kids who are about as likely to throw a party as I am to wear shorts. So we left our son home. Alone. For four days.
We arrived in Florida on a Thursday, late in the evening. We texted our oldest, told her we were in town and heading for dinner. Would she like to join us? But her dinner was done, her homework was winding down, and her bunk was calling her. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she replied. And that was fine. Really. Exhausted from the long day of travel and subpar pizza before me, I empathized. I had a bed calling me, too.
Our weekend with our kid was interspersed with parent-only events and a work shift. Our kid’s. Not mine. Although I know I’m very intense and come off as someone who might get a job while away from home for a few days.
On our last evening of that Family Weekend, our daughter was sharing her joy at seeing us. And her joy at our imminent depar- ture. She has a routine, she explained. And we were interrupting it.
Our son, in the meantime, was faring well in our absence. “This is great!” he said when we called to check in. “I don’t miss you guys at all! Pete can totally stay home with me next time. It’s easy running the house. Why do you guys always complain?!”
There was a gamut of emotions when we returned home. Our oldest was content to move on with her college experience, our youngest was disappointed he could no longer be a kid in King Arthur’s court, and our dog was thrilled to play my shadow again. Am I sad nobody needs me anymore? No. Not even a little bit.
When I binged season seven of Black Mirror in under a week, any sadness I felt over my redundancy in my children’s lives evap- orated. I mean, I have a significant problem if I’m rapidly running through every binge-worthy show on my “To Watch” list in my Notes app. Hold on. Adding all 523 episodes of Law & Order to my list and… There. Problem solved.
But other than potentially running low on must-see TV, it’s fine. I have time for four-hour brunches with friends, overnights in Old City with my husband, ninety-minute hot yoga. In fact, just last week, I hugged my youngest before he drove off to school. Then I settled into abdominal work on my yoga mat while Kevin Costner postured about his ranch on Yellowstone.
That was when I heard a jangle of tags as my dog, lonely without the kids, burst onto my yoga mat. He stood over me, awk- wardly hugging me as best as a beagle can hug a woman doing leg lifts. He still needs me. Even better, he loves Law & Order.
Contact Wendi Rank on Instagram @wendirank
