094- Independence

February 14th, 2023

"Isn't it weird kissing Max?" I hear Gwen ask, "I mean, 'cause she's so much taller than you?"

I now hear Maxine cough, her boyfriend Owen stutter a confused answer, and Eli, his friends Zoe and Isaac, and Kim all laugh.

"Hey I'm just curious!" The nine year old says. "I mean, when Moms kiss it's kinda' weird 'cause Mom's pretty short, and—"

"Alright, Gwen, I think he knows what you mean…" Kim interjects.

I step through the threshold of the dining room just in time to see Gwen sink back into her seat, her arms crossed over her chest. I place a glass of wine in front of Kim then take my own seat at the other end of the table.

"You don't need to answer that." I tell Owen with an apologetic smile.

He smirks gratefully.

Owen's a good kid. He's the same age as Maxine and Eli, and has gone to school with Maxine since freshman year. They've been in the same orbit of friends for the same amount of time, but only since summer has their relationship gotten, as Maxine says, 'serious.'

Needless to say, she was sat down for the official 'talk' shortly thereafter.

But overall, I quite like him. He's a good student, has a nice personality, and is very laid back in a way that perfectly counters Maxine's uptight, sometimes Type A personality. He puts up with her mood swings with enviable ease, and makes her smile unlike anyone I've ever seen. He's a keeper. At least as much of a keeper as a high school student can really be. They are seventeen, after all.

"Do you remember your seventeenth birthday, Mommy?" Gwen asks, looking at me with raised eyebrows.

Kim snorts from behind her wine glass, earning her a fleeting but affectionate glare from me.

"That was a really long time ago, Gwen…" Maxine warns.

Jesus Christ, can no one in this family cut me a break?

"I do remember it actually…" I say, looking first at Max, then Kim, then Gwen. "It wasn't too special, though." I admit truthfully.

Gwen shrugs. "I can't wait until I'm that old! I'll be able to drive to the store whenever I want and do whatever I want and it's gonna be great!" She says cheerfully.

"You can do that at sixteen, you know." Zoe tells her with a kind smile.

Gwen rolls her eyes. "Well I know that, but right now we're talking about seventeenth birthdays!" She says. "What did you do for yours?" She asks, signing poorly but well enough to get her message across.

Eli, Zoe and Isaac all look at each other, communicating with only their eyes, before Zoe responds. "I had a bonfire up on the shore with some friends." I hear Isaac snicker slightly, making it clear that that isn't the complete truth, but Zoe's quick to continue her story, "but then it started to snow."

"At the beach?" Gwen exclaims, her eyes wide and tone alarmed.

Zoe laughs and nods. "It was January."

"Why on earth were you at the beach in January?" She exclaim again, this time squeaky and a little bit louder.

Zoe just smiles and shrugs. "It was fun," she turns towards her two best friends, "right?"

They both nod, Isaac still smirking.

I've never liked that boy.

The night preceded much like any other that has us all home at the same time with company; a lot of talking, a lot of laughing, a lot of food, and only one person ended up in tears—Gwen and Eli got in a petty argument over a subject that I'm not even sure of, but which ended up in Gwen stomping up the stairs and slamming the door shut.

Even a lifetime of living with Eli doesn't necessarily mean one remembers that slamming and stomping rarely makes an impact.

Now at nearly eleven Kim and I are finally falling into bed, trusting our middle children to see their friends and significant others out by midnight.

"Can you believe they're seventeen?" She asks, cradling her head in her hand and glancing at me with those blue eyes.

I shake my head. "I thought it was supposed to be easier after the first one?"

She chuckles. "Maybe it's harder because there are two of them…"

"Where's the logic in that argument?" I can't help but ask.

"Logic went out the window when we bought them each a car, Ker—I thought you knew that." She teases, her head coming to rest on my shoulder.

"We'll have to start looking at colleges with them soon…" I say, changing the subject.

I feel her nod. "It's not going to be as easy as it was with Henry, is it?"

I chuckle as I distinctly remember the day a twelve year old Henry came home from school, dropped his backpack on the kitchen floor with a resounding thud, and announced that he was going to go to Columbia University after high school. Granted, that is not where he ended up, but our trip to visit that very school in the fall of his senior year in high school was what introduced him to New York University, which is the school that he proceeded to fall in love with and ultimately attend. Now I think of the two twins, who are both very different from each other as well as very different from their older brother; while they're all incredibly bright young adults, Henry is considerably more interested in academics than the twins, who both clearly value their respective forms of art over their classic education. Does this mean they'll be given free rein to skip out on college? Certainly not. It just means we probably won't be touring your traditional Ivy Leagues, Liberal Arts Colleges, or State Universities and will instead be attending a whole lot of portfolio reviews and auditions.

I shake my head. "Definitely not."

Kim kisses me once more and turn off the lamp, leaving the room dark.

Now we lay in silence and I'm left to my thinking. Seventeen. Wow. It really does feel like just yesterday I was just meeting these children for the first time—Maxine with her bleach blonde curls, Eli with his shy smile; fast forward a bit and Kim and I are holding their hands as we lead them to their first day of first grade; a little further and they're graduating middle school; and now here we are: a year away from being the parents of legal adults.

Where has the time gone? I know practically all parents say this, but it truly does feel like yesterday they needed us for everything and today they're these completely independent beings. Christ, before I know it they'll be getting married.

The thought is almost nauseating.

Whoever thought independence was a nice thing clearly did not have children, because this—this is just terrifying.