Following what seems to be a trend on my side of the family, at eighteen; my oldest daughter announced the she and her boyfriend were buying a house and planned to be married. Although we would have preferred that they wait a while we were not shocked or upset by their decision. They both have a strong work ethic and despite their ages, they are both very responsible. They purchased (without help from anyone) and moved into a modest starter home in a lakeside community that is a thirty minute drive from us, adopted two lab puppies, and began their life together.
Although my daughter had always been strong and ambitious, she had never shown an interest in anything domestic. She could cook an omelet, was capable of doing laundry and could perform basic housekeeping without too much complaining. Martha Stewart she was not. When they had been in their home about a month, we were invited to dinner for the first time; I didn't know what to expect. Kraft dinner and hot dogs was my guess. But when we arrived I was shocked to find a large homemade lasagna and Caesar salad! And the house was immaculate! Not only was I impressed, I was very relieved. They would be ok. That was October 2005.
At the beginning of summer 2007, my then 19 year old son announced to his father and I that he too would be moving out of the house. This brought an immediate smile to our faces, because we were sure he was joking. But after talking with him, we realized that he was serious. He was actually planning to leave home.
Unlike my reaction to his sister's similar announcement two years earlier, my first feeling was sheer panic. Although my son was highly intelligent, he had absolutely no life skills. No matter how much his father and I stressed the importance of learning basic life skills, our words always fell on deaf ears. His room looked like the city dump and if he had things his way, he would have spent every moment that he wasn't at works playing video games.
How could someone who still expected me to dish out his meals for him survive on his own? I could envision him walking the streets of town hungry and naked. After all, he had never shopped for his own clothing, let alone washed it.
When I voiced my concerns, he told me that I was worrying for nothing and that he would be fine. After all, the girl he was moving in with would take care of him.
After I regained consciousness, he told me with a smile that the girl he was referring to was his sister. This news did little to ease my mental state. At twenty-one, my daughter had no immediate plans to have children, and I thought her much too young, and too busy to be burdened with taking care of a hairy, 160 pound bouncing baby boy. However, their minds were made up and plans were made, so my husband and I decided to keep our opinions to ourselves and see what happened. We began making wagers on how long he would be gone before our son had even left the driveway. My husband bet two weeks, and I said a month at most.
Well, he fooled us both. He was gone six weeks. He returned home saying that he didn't like being told what to do by someone only eighteen months older than he was, and that if people were going to treat him like a kid, his parents might as well be the ones doing it. He found it outrageous that he should have to feed himself when my daughter worked late. But the day she informed him that from then on he would have to do his own laundry is when he came running home to mom.
My son has been back at home for six months now, but things aren't quite the same as they were before he left. These days he helps with the laundry and housework with minimal complaints and on occasion even cooks for us.
How is it that the same two parents can raise two such completely different children? You love them the same, treat them the same way, teach them the same things, yet in the end they are nothing alike.
Is there really a certain age that parents should expect their children to leave home? Because we raise them do we have the right to determine when they are ready? I don't think so. When are they ready? I guess only time will tell.
