The World’s Earliest Empty Nester
What a week without the invisible mental load taught me about parenting, entrepreneurship, and learning to let go.
This summer, I became what might be the world’s earliest empty nester.
Not permanently. Not even close.
My kids are simply at sleepaway camp.
And while I miss them terribly, something happened that I wasn’t expecting.
My brain got…quiet.
Not because I love them any less.
Because I suddenly wasn’t responsible for managing 847 invisible things every single day.
Who needs to eat before practice?
Who forgot a water bottle?
Who’s driving where?
Did I RSVP to the birthday party?
Who’s sleeping over Friday?
Do we have enough milk?
What time is dance?
Did anyone feed the dog? Also - we don’t have a dog.
None of these thoughts are individually exhausting.
It’s that they’re always there.
Like having 37 browser tabs open on your computer that never actually close.
For the first time in years, I could finish one thought before another one interrupted it.
It made me realize something about entrepreneurship.
People often ask me how I manage speaking, traveling, consulting, content creation, podcasts, clients, networking, and somehow still being present for my family.
The answer is…
Sometimes I don’t.
Not because I can’t do the work.
Because my brain has always been doing two full-time jobs.
Running a business.
And running a family.
The funny part?
I may not be making lunches or driving to activities this month, but I’m apparently redirecting all of that energy somewhere else.
Straight to camp.
Every morning starts the same way.
Open the camp app.
Search today’s photos.
Surely they’ll post more than yesterday.
The facial recognition software is incredible…except apparently when your child is underwater, but- maybe it missed one
So now I’m zooming into group photos like I’m working for the FBI.
“I think that’s Goldie’s foot.”
“Wait…is that Leo’s elbow?”
“I know that backpack.”
Then there are the emails.
Every day I write one.
Every day I ask questions.
Every day I hit send knowing full well I won’t get an answer.
It’s basically the parenting equivalent of being the psycho girlfriend.
“Hi! Hope you’re having fun! Did you get the last email I sent? Are you making friends? Did you remember your sweatshirt? Did you like horseback riding? Write back when you can.”
Silence.
The next day…
“Just checking in again…”
Meanwhile, Levi and I have been traveling together for work.
Normally, I’d have this constant guilt that I’m missing bedtime or school pickup or another soccer game.
This time?
They’re having the time of their lives.
They’re building independence.
Making memories that don’t involve us.
And maybe that’s the hardest (and best) part of parenting.
Realizing that success isn’t raising kids who always need you.
It’s raising kids who eventually don’t.
I’m not ready for the real empty nest.
Not even a little.
But this little preview has taught me something.
The goal was never to hold everything together forever.
The goal was to build a life and a family that could thrive even when I wasn’t holding every single string.
Although…
If the camp photographer could please get one clear picture of both of my children looking directly at the camera…
I’d really appreciate it.
My therapist would say, "That's the sign of a well-attached child," when I said my son hadn't emailed me back during these summer camp adventures, and again when he left for college. The intention was to help me see that it was the right thing for him to spread his wings and fly, and I wanted that for him, but I didn't like feeling like I was missing everything. Letting go and letting your kids start creating their epic adventure is no joke.
And the space in mind and body was revelatory, I felt magic filled with energy and ideas. We underestimate everything that moms who work in the home and out hold, and the energy it takes to keep everything together.
Enjoy summer camp, Momma!