I know what you’re all dying to hear…
Did he get the key to his room? Does he have a bed to sleep in? And, more importantly, did he actually unpack properly?
The short answer is YES!
Key retrieved from the letting agent, everything moved in and unpacked, and—obviously—the Xbox set up and connected. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when he FaceTimed me for a room viewing, both before and after the unpacking. There’s something very reassuring about actually seeing where your child is sleeping, rather than just imagining it!
The first few days were tough.
The house was really quiet, and I couldn’t help messaging periodically. Was he up? Had he eaten? Had he remembered what time the bus was? Was he going to be late for his lift?
You know, all those completely reasonable questions you ask the adult child you’re supposedly encouraging to be independent…
But by Tuesday, after a number of reassuring messages from him—some of which even arrived without being prompted by one of mine—I realised something.
He really was OK.
He’d been food shopping. There was veg in the basket!
Freshers’ events were going well and he was meeting loads of new people. The cooking wasn’t going too badly either, including what looked like a very respectable mini fry-up.
I’m not entirely sure whether he’s navigated the washing machine yet, but I’m sure he’ll crack that one soon too. One life skill at a time.
New pubs have been visited, pints have been drunk and silent discos attended—not me, him, obviously! And pretty soon his course timetable begins, and then he really will be busy.
Meanwhile, my husband and I are still getting used to being in the house on our own. Well, not completely on our own. We do still have Shaun the dog!
There have been a couple of unexpected benefits.
The weekly food shop was considerably cheaper. I’ll take that one. And it’s looking as though our fuel costs might be going down too.
Having a really busy week probably helped. I spent three days in Carmarthen, Wales, with work, and I’ve had lots going on personally with a poorly family member, so there hasn’t really been much time to sit and dwell on how different home feels.
And maybe that’s been a good thing.
Because somewhere in amongst the messages asking if he’d eaten and wondering whether his washing was slowly developing a life of its own, I’ve started to realise that this is exactly what was supposed to happen.
We’ll see him on Saturday, which I’m really looking forward to. For his 18th birthday, we bought him tickets to a London show, so my husband and I are heading down for the day. A quick lunch, the show, tea and then home.
And I think seeing him will give me that final bit of reassurance I’ve been looking for.
He’s OK.
Actually, he’s more than OK.
He’s loving life, enjoying his independence, meeting new people and navigating the next chapter of his life perfectly well without me checking whether he’s caught the bus.
I’m still working on that last bit.
But really, what more could I ask for?
One week on, and perhaps we’re both finding our feet.
← Previously: Moving Day
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