Being sad isn't all bad

I've just read an extract from Dr Tim Lomas' latest book,  The Positive Power of Negative Emotions  (Piatkus). In it he talks about the good side of our most 'negative' emotions - boredom, guilt, anxiety.   He says the loneliness of the empty nest should be viewed as a highly productive 'oasis of calm',  with potential for real independence.

He writes,  'If you're an empty nester you may find you've forgotten what your own voice sounds like after being drowned out for so long. Slowly you'll reassert your independence, remember the dreams you once had and the places you longed to visit - this can emerge not in the midst of a hectic life, but as a result of peaceful solitude. '

So take heart if your child has just left. It may take a while to find a new direction - but it really is the unexpected silver lining.

New direction Step 1: Change the house

The transformation begins: the night before the wall came down

My husband loved this wall.  It separated the playroom from the telly room and gave him a private space to practise the piano.  In fact he loved the wall so much that for 29 years he refused, point blank,  to knock it down.

Finally I persuaded him.  The wall's gone.

It used to feel so sad, the prospect of staying in the house where the kids grew up, with just the two of us instead of five.  The place was full of memories - good and bad.  You could feel the kids' absence in every room.

And when they first left I didn't feel like redecorating.  The dust needed to settle.   Anyway what was the point?  We might move,  downsize, like so many empty nest couples.

Moving is a much clearer statement that you're moving on yourself.   I don't rule it out.   But for the time being a revamp feels just as good as a move. The memories are still in the ether, but they've been scattered to make way for new ones, a different energy.  The blood's still on the walls, but it's been covered with a fresh coat of paint. This feels like a brand new start for a totally new kind of life.

Counting down to your Empty Nest? How to prepare

                                             print by Carol Wilhide

It's hard to know how best to prepare for the empty nest because you really have no idea how it's going to hit you.  You might end up driving back down the motorway with tears streaming down your face,  or you might just feel it's all...well... OK.

But you can start preparing now by thinking creatively about what your new life will be like and the different ways you might adjust to a new routine. You can prepare your child too. They'll be much happier if they know the basics of looking after themselves.

 However, the main thing now is to shift your focus away from your child and back on to you. To explore what you really like doing, and discover what truly fulfils you.

• Think about the times you're likely to miss your child the most, and make a plan to fill the gap: listen to a podcast, phone a friend,  meet someone. 

• Make a list of stuff you know will cheer you up when you're down

• Plan treats for the week after they've left - the more self-indulgent the better

• Look into courses that interest you.

• Sit down with your partner and make a list of stuff you'd like to do together over the next year.  Don't think 'He/she wouldn't like line dancing/birdwatching/ going to the footie. You might be surprised. 

• Book a fabulous holiday and weekends away

• Read about how other parents coped:   'The Empty Nest: how to survive and stay close to your adult child' is a good place to start! (even though I say so myself)

Nostalgic for your children's childhoods? Talk to a new mum

If the smell of banana sandwiches makes you come over all dewy-eyed about your children's childhoods,  try talking to a new mum. It's a great reality check.

I met one the other day.  OK, her baby looked adorable, and I envy her in so many ways: that mad besotted love, the burst of creativity, the way life's possibilities stretch ahead limitlessly.

But in so many other ways I really don't envy her: working on deadlines into the wee small hours, snatching a few hours' sleep before the 5 am feed,  boxing and coxing with your partner instead of being romantic,  searching for good childcare.  Never mind the heart-wrenching anxiety when your child gets ill.

Having babies and small children was the best time of my life - no question.  It made me what I am,  it informs everything I do and think.  I know how lucky I am to have had that time.

When my children first left I felt hopelessly nostalgic for their toddlerhood,  full of regret for all the things I did and didn't do.  I still do, a bit.  But I really really wouldn't want to go back there.

What can you do when you're feeling blue?

There are bound to be bad days  -  days when you miss your child desperately and mourn the end of family life.   Nothing can distract you, and the idea of having more time to yourself is no compensation at all.
Facing that stark emptiness is hard. Here's how I coped: simple steps, but they got me through:

JUST KEEP SWIMMING, NEMO

• Think of a simple activity you can rely on to make you feel better,  and make time for it every day. If nothing springs to mind, it's worth reflecting on  - look back to what you enjoyed as a child for clues.  
• Get a pile of DVDs you really want to watch (no duffers) and get stuck in.
• Make playlists of tunes that make you sad and tunes that make you happy. Alternate between the two. 
• Do something you can do on auto-pilot that's creative: for me that's knitting, baking a cake and rag-rugging. Or maybe one of those adult colouring books and Magic/Classic FM?   
• Listen to Radio 4 dramas
• Write your diary. 
• Swim
• Compile a book of inspiring quotes.  My favourite is from Nile Rodgers of disco legends Chic.    When asked how he coped with cancer Rodgers quoted Finding Nemo.  'When life gets you down you know what you've got to do: Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming….Just keep swimming….'

Do students need workshops on sexual consent?

Oxford and Cambridge introduced compulsory workshops for new students last year, and other universities are following suit.  I've just joined a discussion on BBC Radio Sheffield, which heard some alarming experiences from students who'd been groped, even raped.

Their stories are backed up by a series of studies by the National Union of Students which found that one in four students suffer unwelcome sexual advances. Meanwhile a report published in 2013 by the Ministry of Justice, the Home Office and the ONS said that female students are at higher risk of sexual violence than the general population.

A new worry for parents

It's worrying for parents left behind at home, coping with the uncomfortable notion that our job's done and from now on we have to let our kids make their own mistakes - a scary prospect.   It's hard not to think about all the conversations you should have had about sex, all those missed opportunities.

I suspect I'm not the only parent who has never had a conversation about sexual consent with any of my kids - my sons or daughter.  For us Brits it's difficult to talk about sex, but in this context it feels like a poor excuse.
Because  Freshers' Week seems a bit late for this discussion: surely consent should be part of sex education - at school and with parents - when kids are still at home.

Things getting tense in your nearly-empty nest? Here's how to cope

A friend once said her son had to 'trash the nest'  before he could leave it - and her.   For months before he left home he was bolshy and rude  - a far cry from the adoring toddler who sobbed his heart out whenever she left him.

So when her son finally got his own place she was glad to see the back of him.  At the same time she felt guilty and sad that they'd parted on such bad terms.

She's not alone.  Tension is par for the course in the final weeks before kids leave home.  Yet it's easy to feel you're the only one,  that other families are happily bonding over shopping trips for mugs and duvets. By contrast you're snappy, sulky and eating meals in silence.  And always there's the horrible feeling that time is running out - it seems such a waste of precious last days together.

It helps to take a long-term view.    You're almost certain to find you get on a lot better when you don't have to do their laundry and remind them to do their homework/wear a bike helmet.  University is great at making kids appreciate home - and their parents.   It won't be too long before it's a relationship  between two adults.

My friend's son who trashed the nest now gets on like a house on fire with his mum.  She looks back on the trauma of him leaving home as what it was - a blip in their relationship. Temporary, although at the time she thought it would never end.

And remember, you're not the only one feeling anxious and unsure about the future. Behind that cool facade your son or daughter is probably just as nervous as you.

 You're both stepping out of your comfort zone, but you, at least, are staying on familiar territory.

HOW TO AVOID ARGUMENTS

• Don't be offended if your son or daughter is never at home. They've got a lot of goodbyes to say to friends/girlfriends/boyfriends. 
• Arrange a farewell dinner - somewhere they want to go.  Agree on a time that suits everyone
• If they're anxious or unconfident stress the positives about uni without piling on the pressure. 
• Acknowledge their achievement in getting a place (just not in front of mates or sibs, obvs)
• Don't just focus on their needs. Make plans for your own future: indulgent treats and nights out to cheer you up when you miss them, weekends away, evening classes.