Full driveway, full house, full heart

Carla and I are in the stage before the empty nest, whatever that’s called.

We’re not quite empty nesters because we still have one at home in high school. We’re more like intermittently semi-occupied nesters. Is that a thing? If not, I’m calling it. We’re ISONs.

In this stage, our house can go from empty to full to empty again unsettlingly fast. It’s like living in an Airbnb that rents out randomly every six or eight weekends.

Don’t get me wrong. I do not mind this stage of life. I enjoy it when it’s just Carla, Carlton and me. It’s quiet. I read. I write. I walk. I have time to journal and reflect. I can be mindful… and demure (those things go together now, in case you haven’t heard.)

Carlton doesn’t always appreciate being the lone offspring left to our inquisitions and meddling. He resents having to entertain us with stories of what happened at school today and other such trivialities he can’t be bothered to share.

Well, too bad. As the youngest, that’s his burden to bear. We are now boring old people, and we obsess over the intricacies of his life.

Of course we miss Barron and Harris when they aren’t here, but we’re comforted with the knowledge that they are off, living their lives, doing the things they should be doing. Barron is a homeowner and resident of Athens. He even had the wonderful DMV experience this week to change his address on his driver license. When he had to produce his baby footprints and a copy of the Georgia state constitution, he decided this part of adulting was unsatisfactory.

Harris is in his sophomore year at Mercer, and unlike Barron, he is still technically a permanent resident of Lilburn (or as we like to call it “Thrillburn”). He has an upstairs suite with a bedroom, bathroom and Lego room. As Harris will tell you, home is where your Legos are.

Though he was overseas for more than a month this summer and spent time at multiple vacation spots with us and with his girlfriend’s family, he is still “in our nest,” and welcomed here any time.

Last weekend, our driveway was full causing us to do the whole “rearrange the cars to get out” drill several times. We’re going to have to hire a valet on such weekends.

By my count we had six cars in our driveway and garage. Barron and his girlfriend, Meg, both had their vehicles. Harris and Anna drove up together in Harris’ Jeep, and of course our Odyssey and Pilot were joined as always by my father-in-law’s 1950 Chevy Styleline Deluxe.

Rather than making me cranky, the full driveway when I drove up on Friday after work accelerated my heart rate at the anticipation of laughter, conversation, problem solving and general silliness.

Carlton had rehearsal Friday night, but the rest of us went to our favorite restaurant, Los Hermanos. After I picked up Carlton, we had the best game of Taboo ever (because Carla and I teamed up to put the biggest beat down on the youngsters ever).

Everybody visited Nanny at some point during the weekend even as commitments sent them different directions at different times. We all went to the Gwinnett County Fair Saturday night, joining roughly 3.5 million residents of the greater Gwinnett Suburban area for the heartburn-inducing, line-waiting, combination hogs-and-corn-dog-aroma-smelling, gravel-in-your-shoes experience of the year.

It was equal parts new fun and nostalgia. I’m willing to put up with the inconveniences of navigating traffic, parking and vaping teenagers if that’s what it takes to bring everybody back home.

I discovered that I like both full nest and Carlton-only mode but for different reasons. With apologies to Ecclesiastes, the way I see it, there is a time to park on the street at your own house, and there is a time to park in the garage. There is a time to walk around your kitchen in your underwear, and there is a time to refrain from walking around your kitchen in your underwear.

There is a time to make six cups of coffee, and a time to make a full pot. There is a time to buy dinner for three at Los Hermanos, and a time to rent a banquet room. There is a time to go to bed at 9:30 p.m., and a time to stay up playing games, watching football and laughing until you have tears.

There is a season for everything under the sun, and I, for one, am grateful for all of them.