Waterfalls and Whispered Sweet Nothings: Rediscovering Each Other in Our Fabulous Forties

Ah, the fabulous forties—a time when three of our kids have flown off to the college coop, leaving us not quite empty nesters since we still have a couple of fledglings at home. But let me tell you, even with two kids in the house, we’re rediscovering the art of adult conversation that doesn't revolve around school schedules, teenage drama, or who left the milk out

We’re learning the fine art of juggling teen chaos with our own dreams of quiet moments and reconnection. It’s an intriguing dance between launching young adults into the world and managing a bustling household that’s not quite ready to quiet down.

Yet, this shifting dynamic offers unexpected gifts—like rediscovering each other amid the chaos, finding new hobbies together, and sneaking in moments of tranquility by exploring nature's wonders. My partner and I are navigating this new chapter with a bit more room to breathe—and a little more noise than expected!

The Great Waterfall Expedition

Our newfound love for waterfall-hopping is less about eco-tourism and more about proving that two semi-empty nesters can still hike without calling for a helicopter rescue. We pack our snacks (because let's face it, the only thing worse than a grumpy teenager is a hangry fifty-something), strap on our slightly dusty hiking boots, and head out to conquer nature – one waterfall at a time.

Each expedition is an adventure. We often set out with the enthusiasm of teenagers and return with the aches of, well, not teenagers. Finding these waterfalls feels like a real-life treasure hunt, except the treasure is beautiful scenery and the occasional realization that we should have brought more water.

At every waterfall, we pause to soak in the beauty (and rest our aging knees). I try to capture the perfect Instagram shot while my partner debates the physics of water flow or the likelihood of a bear sighting. It’s a majestic backdrop for our mid-life crises. We laugh, we bicker over silly things—like whether that bush was poison ivy (it wasn’t)—and we revel in the sheer ridiculousness of us being “adventurous.”

These trips are our chance to talk without distractions, although half of our conversations are drowned out by the sound of rushing water, leading to delightful misunderstandings. “I love this peace!” I shout. “You need a piece of cake?” my partner yells back. Clearly, we’re still working on our communication skills.

Each waterfall visit reinforces that, like the water carving through rock, our journey together continues to shape us in new and surprising ways. Plus, it's a reminder that even though we’re not as young as we once were, we haven’t lost our sense of humor or our love for cheesy trail mix jokes.

As we trek back from these natural spectacles, we’re a little tired, a lot muddy, and incredibly grateful for this chance to rediscover each other without a child asking for money every five minutes. It turns out, waterfalls are great for echoing laughter, rinsing off life's serious moments, and reminding us that the best adventures still lie ahead.

So, here's to more waterfall wanderings, where the only things falling faster than the water are our inhibitions about making fools of ourselves in the great outdoors.

Silence is Golden (and Occasionally Hilarious)

With three kids off to college and the remaining ones often burrowed in their rooms like gophers, our house has stumbled into a new era: the age of semi-silence. It’s like someone finally hit the mute button on a loud TV commercial—except the commercial was our daily life, and the mute button is stuck on 'mostly quiet.'

At first, this silence was as startling as finding socks that actually match. Who knew our walls didn’t always echo with debates about whose turn it is to do the dishes or cries of “you’re hogging the Wi-Fi!”? Suddenly, we could hear the coffee maker gurgle and the fridge hum—sounds that had been lost in the domestic jungle noise.

We initially tackled this silence with the energy of morning talk show hosts. Conversations flew wild—from philosophizing about why our dog stares at corners to planning exotic vacations we'd never take. The thrill of chatting without interruption? Absolutely heady. We even finished whole sentences and thoughts, a novelty we hadn’t enjoyed in years!

But then, we found the deeper beauty of just basking in the quiet. I learned my partner thinks birds are government spies, and he discovered I’ve been secretly learning the lyrics to every 80s power ballad. These silent moments grew rich with unspoken understanding and random bursts of laughter over the absurdity of our thoughts.

Now, we relish this golden silence, peppered with sudden explosions of noise from the kids’ rooms—because apparently every online game finale deserves a broadcast-level reaction. In the calm that follows, we exchange glances that say, “Ah, peace... sort of.” We’ve come to cherish these pockets of quiet, finding joy in the stillness and the sudden realizations shared between chuckles.

So yes, silence is golden, but around here, it’s also the backdrop for our comedy routine, where the punchlines are our whispered confessions and the laughs are a reminder that sometimes, the best conversations are the ones we have without saying a word. Bring on the peace—just sprinkle it with a dash of giggles and a nightly debate on who snores louder.

Rediscovering Each Other

Who knew that after twenty-odd years, you could still discover new things about your partner? Like their undying love for salsa dancing or their opinion on which 'Star Trek' captain was the best (it's a spirited debate). Our semi-empty nest has turned into a discovery zone where we uncover bizarre new hobbies and quirks about each other that make us wonder, "Who is this person and why are they eating crackers in bed?"

As we navigated life with fewer child-centric emergencies, we realized we were actually two adults with interests beyond managing homework and weekend sports. My partner's sudden urge to take up painting (and by painting, I mean splattering as much paint on the canvas as possible) was as surprising as my newfound obsession with gardening. Neither of us had shown any previous inclination towards these pursuits, unless you count painting over crayon marks and pulling weeds as hobbies.

We started talking again—really talking, not just exchanging information about car pools and grocery lists. We talked about dreams forgotten under piles of laundry and aspirations squished at the bottom of a packed school lunch bag. It turns out, there's a whole world of conversation topics beyond "What's for dinner?" and "Did you remember to buy toilet paper?"

These conversations sometimes spiral into bizarre tangents, like whether we could survive a zombie apocalypse (he thinks he'd be fine; I’m less optimistic). We’ve laughed more in these chats than we have in years, rediscovering not just each other but our ability to make each other laugh. It’s like dating again, but with more joint pain and less tolerance for staying up past 10 PM.

So, here we are, getting to know each other all over again in a house that’s quieter but somehow fuller. Each new revelation adds a layer to our relationship that keeps things fresh—because nothing says romance like discovering your spouse can burp the alphabet or secretly enjoys knitting scarves for the dog. Who needs young love when you have this quirky, delightful rediscovery phase? It’s a blast—even if half the time, we can’t remember why we walked into the room.

Enjoying the Silence Together

So, here we are in our semi-empty nest, discovering that silence doesn't just mean no one is asking for money or raiding the fridge every five minutes. It's a new kind of quiet, the kind where you can actually hear the cat purring from three rooms away and the clock ticking—reminding us that, yes, time does still exist when it's not being measured by school bells or sports practices.

We first treated this silence like a strange visitor—awkward, uncomfortable, and not sure where to put its coat. We filled it with random noises: unnecessary coughing, the clinking of coffee cups a little too loudly, and overzealous laughter at barely funny jokes. But slowly, we realized that this silence was actually pretty awesome. It's like finding a twenty in your old jeans or realizing the chocolate bar you thought you ate was actually still in the cupboard.

In these quiet moments, we’ve rediscovered the art of non-verbal communication. A raised eyebrow here, a smirk there—suddenly we’re like seasoned spies exchanging coded messages. We sit together, sometimes reading, sometimes letting our minds wander so far I think mine might have booked a trip to Bermuda without me.

We also found out that silence is the best soundtrack for snacking. Munching on popcorn without a teenager intercepting every other handful? Absolute bliss. And there’s nothing quite like sharing a look over the rims of our glasses as we both reach for the last cookie—silent but deadly battles, these are.

This newfound quiet time has turned into our secret weapon. It's when we plot our next day trip, our next big adventure, or just what to binge-watch next. And sometimes, in this wonderful stillness, we don’t do anything at all. Because after decades of non-stop noise, just sitting together in peace is pretty much the dream.

So, we’re leaning into this quiet phase hard. We’re enjoying whispers, the soft sounds of pages turning, and the less soft sounds of synchronized snoring on the couch. Turns out, you can teach old love new tricks, and enjoying the silence together is our new favorite.

To Sum It Up

Here we are, semi-empty nesters, figuring out how to live in a house that’s cleaner than it’s been in years and quieter than a library on a Monday morning. We walk, we talk, and we bask in the glory of local waterfalls, getting drenched in nature’s beauty—and sometimes actual water because, well, splash zones aren’t just for kids.

We’re learning to fill our days with more than just family logistics and less of the constant buzz that used to fuel our home. It's a bit like rediscovering your favorite old jacket in the back of the closet and finding out it still fits—comfortable, familiar, but surprisingly fresh.

And as we chat over cups of coffee that no longer go cold while chasing after a school bus, we find that life in our forties is less about keeping up with the kids and more about keeping up with each other. We’ve laughed, we’ve rediscovered, and we’ve learned that peace can be just as noisy in its own way when you're busy whispering sweet nothings and crunching on midnight snacks.

So, stay tuned for our next adventure. We’re thinking about taking this show on the road—maybe a couples' retreat or a salsa dancing class? Who knows, we might just end up finding a new passion or embarrassing ourselves trying. Either way, you won’t want to miss it!

Next time, watch as we step out of our comfort zone and possibly into some dance shoes. Will we find rhythm or will we step on each other's toes? Follow and find out in my next blog of "Life After Kids: Empty nesters or party testers?

Pictures are taken with the Iphone 14Pro