A Mother's Day ditty for the empty nesters
Happy Mother’s Day for tomorrow! I’m spending it on my own for the first time this year, so to mark the occasion, I’ve written a poem especially for all of those like me, whose kids have recently fled the nest:
Empty Nest Syndrome
When your kids have grown into adults,
And they move out to start on their own;
And you’re left in a strange state of limbo,
That’s the “empty nest syndrome”.
You know that you should be elated;
All that freedom you’ll have from now on!
But instead you feel quite devastated
As your life’s work all seems to be done.
No homeworks, school runs, pack lunches
No uniform piles to be ironed
No more sports days or PTA meetings
No permission slips left to be signed.
It feels like you’ve been made redundant
But without a severance deal.
Your time is now yours for the taking
But you don’t really know how to feel.
So you go and sit down in their bedroom
And the emptiness starts to sink in.
All the toys have long been discarded
All the storybooks gone in the bin.
The walls are a blank empty canvas
As so is your future it seems.
How will you fill all your time now?
Or will you just fall apart at the seams?
So you concentrate on the positives
The best aspects of life on your own
After 21 years of laughter and tears
And fingers you’ve worked to the bone.
Well, you don’t have to watch any football;
Not even a single goal.
The telly is yours for the watching;
The remote is now in your control.
You can catch every costume drama
And rewind all the best bits each day
And what’s more you can drool over Darcy
Without anyone saying he’s gay.
All your laundry is halved in an instant
And so is your grocery bill
Your trolley’s replaced with a basket
And it costs half the price at the till.
You can please yourself what you eat now,
There’s no need for a big Sunday roast.
Ready meals only take a few minutes
And so do good old beans on toast.
The Xbox is switched off forever
Kerrang is a thing of the past
You don’t have to listen to Anthrax,
And Coldplay can go on at last.
You can take off the L plates and R plates
The car is all yours, day and night
The house is tidy with things in
And it doesn’t look like a bomb site.
You can even walk around naked
With no fear of looking a fool
You can dance, sing and do your
No one’s there to say you’re uncool.
Then the door rings and it’s Interflora;
An arrangement of beautiful flowers.
“Happy Mother’s Day
To the best mum in the world”
And your tears flow again for two hours.
Only then do you notice the PS.
“Can you transfer cash ASAP?
These flowers cost money,
And now I’m so broke
I’m making beans on toast for my tea.”
Belfast Telegraph Digital