Sleepover

Madison and Ella are at a sleepover that their babysitter (a 25-year-old young mathematician whom David had taught, who also loves kids) is holding in her apartment for the five girls for whom she babysits.

The last time the girls had slept over at a friend's house, about two years ago, it was kind of a disaster. So this was the perfect occasion to launch them into nice sleepover experiences. They were looking forward to it, and they always had the option of calling me in the middle of the night to pick them up if there was a problem. We didn't get a call. I'll pick them up about 9 and we'll head over to our customary Memorial Day parade in Fairport.

I don't know why people always say things like, "Oh, so nice for you, getting the kids out of the house for a while." I mean, I don't want to argue, and I appreciate the intention, but we don't want the kids out of the house! We like them. We miss them. We want them around. I know it's a good thing for them to do, and I would never deny them the opportunity. But it's 6:45am, and I keep expecting Ella to come padding down the stairs and wrap herself up in my lap. She won't, she's at Hyeyon's. And it feels all wrong.

Think I'm dreading the Empty Nest Syndrome that will land on me starting in about 8 years? Yes indeedy. I try not to jump the gun on that. On the other hand, sometimes I feel as though I'm living in this wonderful open-air world of sunshine and flowers, but making my way slowly and inexorably toward a dark tunnel guarded by a monster. It makes me appreciate this time of life all the more. But still.