In Praise of Not-Yet-Empty-Nesters, otherwise titled: How to Enjoy Having Adult Children at Home

     I have a full nest.  My children are all single adults and fairly – am trying to be humble here – doing well.  My 31 year old son, an Aspie (person with Asperger’s Syndrome, Google this please), takes short certificate courses, busies himself decorating and redecorating his room with corkboards filled with photos of anime characters he loved as a teen, and photos of him and Honey in radio stations around the country.  My eldest daughter, 27, a marine conservationist, (shh, don’t tell her I still don’t understand what she’s doing) and is a consultant for marine protected areas.  Youngest daughter is a 23 year old yoga instructor and recently got her training to get yet another certification, this time to teach yoga to children and families. She is also my writer, contributes to beauty blogs, etc.   Like some millennials they can and mostly work from home, join me and Honey for breakfast, sometimes still in their PJs. They know there is always ready hot lunch, mid-day snack (merienda) and dinner, if they still like having the evening meal. I get a chance to date them one-on-one so that I keep up, not only on their lives but on their generation. I like it – I know the latest hits of  Drake, Bruno Mars, etc. I just shout from my room, “Babe, how do I edit this picture?” or “Babe, how do I download this video?”  and “Babe,  I don’t know how to install the new ink cartridge in the printer!”  And surely, one Babe will show up, sighing, “Google it, mom” or “Ok, let me show you but try it out yourself next time, ok?”  Ha ha, but I love it!  I love the full nest.

     Of course, this is not for everyone. I have friends who can’t wait for their adult children to go out and “spread their wings,” they say.  I have friends who have children who don’t live with them anymore, maybe because they are married already, or their jobs take them to another country, or maybe within the country but still far from home.   And they love their empty nests too!  Whichever works, yes?  But this is for me, right now.  And so, to enjoy this time of my life, and maybe for you out there who have single, adult children who still live with you, I have done a bit of research, talked to people in a similar situation and have come up with my

                                  8 TIPS TO ENJOY A FULL NEST OF ADULTS

  1. ACCEPT.  Repeat after me, “My children are now adults.”  Accept the fact that they are now adults.  And they WANT to feel “adult.”  They struggle, experience the good and not-so-good, they have joys and hurts. Accept the fact that they have their own plans that do not include you. Accept, too, that they need their alone time and don’t have to talk to you all the time while they are at home. Accept the fact that they are making plans to move out and go on their own someday, but while this is not happening, accept and enjoy their company.
  2. HOUSE RULES.  Everyone needs rules and structure in their lives. This brings about considerable order and hopefully some peace in a set-up where there are more than 2 adults in the house. Sit down with your Adult/s and go for a win-win arrangement.  Sharing expenses?  Or not? Sit down and talk about it. Talk to them as you wish to be talked to.
  3. LET THEM EXPERIENCE. Let them make their own decisions and figure out what works for them. Once upon a time, I would have said, “let them make their own mistakes.” But that is so last generation and now we know that in life, THERE ARE NO MISTAKES, ONLY LESSONS.  The sooner you understand this as a parent, the less judgmental you will be and you will be able to communicate well with your adult children and have a good relationship.
  4. DO NOT STOP TELLING THEM STORIES OF YOUR LIVES, YOUR CHILDHOOD, YOUR PARENTS.  Believe it or not, your adult children will begin to understand YOUR fears, YOUR quirks, YOUR dreams. Ignore the eye rolling if someone mumbles, “I know this story already, mom.”  And please, never say “It was better during our time.”  What – are they doomed to live this one out?
  5. LISTEN. Listen to their fears, their worries and their dreams. You just might be able the share a bit of your experiences. But don’t make it all about you.  The word is LISTEN.  They need you to hear them.
  6. RESPECT. Respect your adult children’s beliefs and opinions. This includes their choice in friends, lifestyle, the type of religious service, if so inclined and their political views.   Yes, this can make everyone uncomfortable and defensive. But again, if you have established your HOUSE rules well and  firmed up your Communication skills, you can, and will learn to live with each other’s differences, at least for now.
  7. SELF-CARE. You spent many years taking care of your children, and while you really should have done  this for  yourself at the same time, if you haven’t, do it now.  Eat healthy and exercise (note to myself, ugh).  Have more Me-time. Me-Time with a loved one, Me-time with friends.  Travel, dine out more with your loved one who, hopefully, is also slowing down.  My adult children love it when my Honey and I go out for drinks (even we have our own beer or wine at home) or when we dress up for dinner.   When Mommy and Daddy are happy, the children, whatever age, are happy. Oh yes, you can choose to invite them when you have a night out, but they need to see that you are, indeed, separate from them now.  And that’s ok.  Also,  nothing, absolutely nothing lowers blood pressure like having a good laugh with friends who you grew up with, reminiscing about teachers, other friends and even ex-boyfriends or ex-husbands!    My daughters see the glow on my face whenever I come home from a get-together.  They are learning the importance of years-long friendships. And finally,
  8. LET GO.  One day soon, maybe later, it will be time for them to go off on their own in to the vast unknown.   Enjoy the letting-go. Trust. Pray for them.  Read on separation anxiety and make it easy on yourself.



And when that time comes, you know that you would have taught them, as best you could, how to be an adult among others.  Mission accomplished.

*original painting by Carlie Dario



Travel blog: Season 1 episode 1: AN INTRODUCTION to TRAVEL THROUGH POSTCARDS

     TRAVEL BLOG.  Side by side with food and fashion, mommy and parenting, health, beauty and fitness, TRAVEL is arguably the first for the Blog spot checkered flag to wave for.  It’s the distraction, the constant change and move, the wanderlust.  For some, it’s part of or comes with the job. For a sad few, it’s  “anywhere but here.”  A honeymoon, a family holiday, a chance to get away with friends and for most, another tick on their bucket list.

    I grew up with a father who never, ever asked me how my grades were in school, but instead asked, always with great interest, what I thought of the cities, the towns, the castles, museums, the people we encountered, the exotic foods we tasted each time we travelled. He also had a friend who was older than he and so had just started travelling when he retired, who sent him postcards.  “Wish you were here.” His friend would always write in the back of a beautiful postcard. Nothing else.  He just wished that my father was there with him while he was on his trip.   My father would show me these postcards, and talk a bit about the place, if we had never been there, and showed me how the stamps added to enjoying a card from another country.  I was hooked. While at that young age, I had no one to send me a postcard from anywhere, and so  I looked forward to my father’s friend’s “Wish you were here”s.

     I longed for someone to write to me and wish I was there, too, and to  tell me their first hand experience of life in another country.  And because my father got me a subscription to the Barbie Magazine from the US, I did receive regular mail – and always looked at the PenPal page, where I finally picked out a pal from Peru, I still remember her name, Verna. I was in fourth grade, in the early 70s,  when we started to exchange letters, and it was Verna from whom I first learned of Machu Pichu  — now a favourite destination.

    Today, I continue my love for the written travel exchange.  I tell my friends to send me a postcard because it is so exciting  to see another country from other people’s eyes.  I want to know where they have been, what the weather was like when they were there.  I  get to “visit” splendid museums, unbelievable public libraries, and grand churches I’ve never been to and enjoy the “revisit,”  if I’ve been there as well through their postcards. I have reached rocky shorelines to enjoy beautiful lighthouses.  I have “tasted” a sticky rice cake here, local cheeses from a tiny town, and the sinful richness of paper thin slices of pork. I have “heard” the clicking of the castanettes and the stomping of the feet when I received a postcard from Spain. I continue to learn bits of history of Unesco heritage sites. And I get emotional over historical towns and even over endangered animals.  Oh the 4 to 5, maybe six liner stories I read when I receive a postcard.

    Yes, my father’s friend’s postcards started it all.  “Wish you were here’” he would  always write.  This time,  when I receive the postcards from friends and family, I am always there, with them.




We moved to a charming ‘80s house a few months ago and I can’t tell you how many friends I have asked, those who moved, and those who have moved again and again, how long it took them to unbox everything, discard from the old and finally settle. Change and movement, I understand, is a good part to achieve our purpose or intention to get into the next part of our lives as a family.  It takes time, I was told, like everything else, before one can put one’s feet up on an easy chair and say, “Ah, there!”

I must admit, though, that Honey and I do that almost every day, “Ah, there,” we say, and then we get up and move a chair here, add a plant there. Yesterday, I opened a box – one of 2 — that’s been blocking the cookbook shelf of my kitchen island.  When I removed the old newspapers, I found the set of china my mother in law gave me many years ago.  My in-laws moved homes when their children, one by one, moved out to start their own families.  So, MIL boxed her stuff and gave me a set of ironstone china she bought in Spain in the 70s. PONTESA dinner, bread and butter plates, soup bowls with matching soup tureen, tea cups and saucers – a whole set.  Pretty orange and green.  Nothing like ironstone china. And nothing like something that has a little history.

Unfortunately, and expectedly, there were cracks and chips on some of the pieces. Cracks and chips which are all part of my honey’s history before we were married. Can’t throw away, and won’t.  Instead, I had my gardener, who was here today, repot some baby plants, using some of the chipped and weathered looking ones.  Re-purpose, that’s what I did.  I think Honey will like it.