Big boys don't cry

Today was the day. Our oldest son moved out. His own place. His own stuff. His own life. Granted, he tried it once before when he went off to school, but this time it's for real, living off of his own money, making his own way.

This all came about a few weeks ago. Right after the new year we had a sit down with him and asked him what he wanted to do with his life. He is 20 and has tried college, talked about the Coast Guard, but nothing seems to have worked out for him. So we sat him down and told him that he was going to start paying us $75 a week rent to stay here. This would give him the opportunity to experience what it's like to have to pay out and use his money for something other than the fun things he had like GameFly, Netflix, X-Box Live, and ordering stuff off of the internet constantly. We wanted to teach him a life lesson while he worked it out what he wanted to do to move forward in life.

About a week and a half ago his mother got a text saying, "Mom, I am comfortable where I am right now, making the money I am making working at the grocery store, and I want to get my own place." Well, mom's reaction was no. Her belief was that he should stay with us, save money for a car, be around people who love him, the list was endless. I was indifferent. I thought that it could be a good thing, but also didn't want to let go. I suppose no parent really ever does. I never had to live on my own. I joined the Marine Corps not too long after graduating High School and just stayed at mom and dads place until I left for boot camp. I never experienced what some of my friends had, eating Kraft mac and cheese every night for dinner, Ramen noodles for lunch, scraping together what they could when they could. I had it lucky. I was given a house to stay in, extra money in my pay check for food for my family, and a guaranteed paycheck on the 1st and 15th of every month. So, I could not relay any life experience about this to my son. For the first time, I had no idea which way to go for advice for my son.

I spoke to my friend, Shane. He had left home at 17 and had lived on his own until he had joined the Marines. See, Andrew's mom was trying to convince him that the service might be good for him. He could learn a trade, have a place to live, steady pay, etc. All the things that took care of us for so many years. I told Shane what was going on and he relayed his story to me. He moved out and was living on his own in a small apartment, going to VoTech college during the day and working at Target at night. After a while, the reality of things caught up to him; he wasn't making it on his own. He was NOT going to go crawling back to mom and dad to tell them they were right and he couldn't make it on his own, so he joined the Marines. When I told Erica about this, it swayed her a little I think, because she really thinks his best choice is to sign up and get a trade.

So, we sat down with him and asked him what his plan was. He had already searched the paper and found a few places to look at. He asked around at work and was told which places always had the cops out front, and which places were quiet, nice, respectable places to be. Turns out the place to be is at the end of the block that we live on. Right on the corner of main street and 1st Ave, the street where welive. We were going to charge him $300 a month to live here, eat what he wanted, wireless internet, an X-Box, PS3, laundry service from mom and dad (mostly mom), and all the other amenities. The Bunkhouse, where he now stays, charges $400 a month, all utilities included, wireless internet and cable. All the same things he could have here, minus laundry service and food purchasing. His mother just got back from the grocery store with him. His goal was to spend $30, and when they rang it up it was $47. Reality had already started to set in she said, when he commented to her, "Wow, I only wanted to spend $30...."

I believe in my heart that this will be a good life lesson for him. Even though he is only down the street, he will learn to budget (hopefully), keep his room clean (hopefully), and learn what it takes to be on his own. After 20 years of guidance, all we can do now is sit back and watch, hoping that everything we have taught him was what he needed.

Good luck, son. You're only down the street, but it feels like a world away. I love you.