We’ll Be Okay When the Kids Are Gone

Just Us.

As long as I could remember, I knew I wanted to be a mother. I would tell everyone that I would have four kids. Now, as a mom of three (four is no longer an option, and I’ll speak on that grief at a later time), for the longest time, I always thought being a mother would be my only identity. I mean, it has been for most of my life (I had my first at 17). As a stay-at-home mom, making my kids my everything is easy. My world solely revolves around them. It’s supposed to go God, my husband, and everything else, but here I was/am putting it as God, my kids, and everything else.

Now, as a mother whose kids are no longer in diapers and entering their teen and elementary years, I’ve come to realize I’m in a new stage of motherhood—a stage known as the middle-mom stage. My kids are becoming increasingly independent and need me less at this stage, but they are not entirely self-sustainable. So, I’ve been grieving the old stage and questioning where that leaves my identity now.

My husband and I have been together for as long as we’ve been parents. We, as young parents, only know ourselves together with kids. There was no us before parenthood. So I wonder, will we be okay when the kids are grown and leave home? When it’s just us?

As I said, my kids are getting older, and we often find them outside of the house more now, at grandparents’ homes, with friends, and at events. We recently enrolled them in a forest school, where they’re gone from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. once a week to take classes with other kids outside of our homeschool.

The silence is eerie. The cleanliness is uncomfortable. The free time is unfamiliar. There are no appointments to attend to, no schedules to follow, no asking for all of the snacks and things; it’s just him and me. Just us.

He works from home in his office, and I am in the garage. Sometimes we forget to cross paths. Sometimes, we forget we’re both home. We’re both left to our own devices.

But then I’ll come and sit in his office, he’ll bring me an iced coffee, or we’ll stop our work to walk the dogs. We’ll send each other memes and reels or crack some inappropriate jokes or flirt. We’ll stop and eat a meal together, and in those moments, I know we’ll be just fine. Sometimes, our kids will make us feel like we’re at war with one another, and we’ll often forget that we’re on the same team. That intentionality we pursue matters. Our weekly date nights and check-ins, random acts of service, small touches and lingering hugs, and weekends away without our kids all matter because it’s just us.

My kids often whine and ask my husband, "Why do you always pick mommy over us?" or "Why do you love each other more than us?" because we’re supposed to. We’re supposed to choose each other. As I mentioned, it goes God, our spouse, and everything else. Over the years, we’ve been more intentional about that, and I hope our kids see that.

As we approach seven years of marriage and our kids age, I’m more confident in knowing that we’ll be just fine. The just us will be fine because it’s always been us. We’ll always choose us, with and without the kids.

I will forever choose us. Happy Anniversary, my love.

love & light,

Jalesa