Full Nest, Empty Nest: How Full is Your Glass?

My youngest child was born on my half-birthday. I was 36½. Every year when my birthday rolls around, she reminds me it’s her half-birthday, and I do the same when her special day arrives. I’m sure I’ve told her on more than one occasion, that she is the best half-birthday gift I ever received (and probably the only one). As child number four, she filled our nest and completed our family.

When she was 18 (half the age I was when I gave birth to her), she completed another stage of my life. As she moved off to college, I finished the “at-home” part of raising my children. My nest was empty. 

What do all these “halves” have to do with my full and empty nest? Nothing really. Except they did make me think about that age-old question:

Is the glass half-full or half-empty?

Of course, the thinking is, the pessimist dwells on the negative and sees the glass as half-empty. The optimist looks on the bright side and sees the glass as half-full.

When it comes to empty-nesting, I don’t consider it an either/or question. My glass is both half-empty AND half-full. And looking back, my whole parenting journey has been balancing the emptiness with the fullness.

When we have babies and toddlers, our days are full of constant physical connection. As we breastfeed, rock, carry, dress, and cuddle with our little ones, we are supplied with an endless stream of physical touch. But what about taking care of our own physical needs? For me, sleep, exercise and healthy eating went out the window as I poured my energy into my babies.

Now that they’re gone, I long for the hugs they so freely give when we’re together. But I have ample time to exercise, cook healthier meals and (when I discipline myself) get enough sleep! 

As our children grow, we become sources of information. Our days are full of questions. “What’s that?” “Where’s my shoe?” “Are we there yet?” and the never-ending circular question “Why???” Information pours out, but there is little time for filling our own desires to learn.

When our children fly from the nest, we miss those daily conversations. Now we have questions for them: “Do you like your job?” “Are your classes going well?” “How do I build a website?” and “Teach me how to make an Instagram story!” With a quiet house, I’ve been able to prioritize my own learning through reading, Bible study, podcasts, or taking classes online. 

The teen years can bring a revolving door of kids in and kids out. In our home, there was a constant buzz. “Hey Mom, I’m going out to Culver’s after the game with my squad.” “Can my friends come over after school to hang out?” “Can we host the Superbowl party for youth group?” When we have teenagers, our social lives revolve around their activities. Hence, we don’t always have time for our own relationships. 

Once the kids are gone, the solitude closes in on us. (Read about making some N.O.I.S.E. here.) I still miss seeing my kids in the halls at school and on the field with the marching band. I miss their sweet and crazy friends. On the flip side, I have more time to spend with my husband and meet my own friends for coffee or dinner.

When our nests are full, we are needed. We cook, clean, drive, wash dishes and launder clothes. Our children ask for our advice and need our protection. We watch them develop, grow, and find their life-callings. But time spent caring for our young ones can often mean sacrificing our own dreams and desires for a season.

And now? Sometimes I ache to feel needed again. My advice and warnings when we’re together are often met with an eye-roll, or an “I’m an adult now, Mom. I think I can handle this myself!”

On the other hand, I love the lack of clutter! The house is no longer strewn with backpacks and shoes and dirty socks. The dishwasher only runs once every day or two. And cooking for two is a cinch! Fewer tasks at home allow me more time to write, read, volunteer, knit, or watch a few shows on Netflix and Hulu. My husband and I have more freedom to go biking, take in a show, or travel (usually to visit the kids, of course!).

***

When our nest is full, our glass appears full as well. We are brimming with of the hustle and bustle and joy that kids bring to our lives.

But that glass can also seem empty. The emptiness of yearning for a life of our own. The lack of time to stay healthy and pursue our own passions and pleasures. 

Then our nest is empty, and in some ways, so is our glass. We miss the kids. The hugs. The conversation. The continuous flow of activities. We miss their presence.

But this is our time! Look how full that glass is! It’s time to make up for the lost “me-time” over the years. With our new-found freedom we can finally take care of ourselves and chase our own dreams.

I’m thankful for those full-nest years. For a job completed and kids who are thriving, or at least surviving, on their own now. I’m grateful for the love that grew between us and still remains, even when we’re apart.

***

My daughter’s half-birthday is this weekend. (If you read between the lines, you can figure out what that means!)

As another year passes, I’m peering into my nest, my life…my glass.

At times it looks half-empty. Most times it looks half-full. 

But my heart? Always, my heart is overflowing. 

Take a moment to read Psalm 23. Let the words fill your mind and heart. Do you see your own glass as half-empty, half-full, or over-flowing? 

 The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake. 

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,

I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely your goodness and love will follow me

all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.