J. L. Stephens

With back-to-school time fast approaching for some and already here for others, I find our house with a few extra crayons, a surplus of Elmer's glue and with one extra tenant. My brother Tyler, a first-year college student at St. Cloud State University, has taken over our basement with academic aspirations, plenty of laundry and loads of nervous energy.

Often blogging and writing columns on the challenges of raising a toddler, I now have a new spin on boys and can't help but watch a "preview" of what's to come with my own son.

Tyler is thankfully an unusual teenager. He maintains normal sleeping hours, bathes regularly and spends much of his free time training for his upcoming Ironman race this September. While he has slipped effortlessly into life at our home, I – on the other hand – seem unprepared for the changes needed in my kitchen.

A normal day used to consist of rising with the sun, breakfast shortly after, lunch around noon, a nap, dinner at 5 and a snack to precede bedtime Going from two (son plus husband) to three males in the house, I find myself barefoot and baking a lot more often. What was previously one humble breakfast has turned into two breakfast shifts. What used to be a batch of cookies to last the week barely makes it off my wire cooling racks.

Leftovers seem to be a thing of our past. As I learn to cook for one extra body that burns about 4,000 calories per day, I find myself enjoying the side effect of a smaller waistline as I rarely get a portion of the meals I cook.

Tupperware? Freezer bags? I simply must find other uses for them. The microwave as of late is also feeling a sense of abandonment. To make up for the extra efforts put in by the dishwasher and range, I have stocked up on detergent and lined the oven with tinfoil (my grandmother would be so proud).

In the last three years, I have toyed with the fact that Axel, my son, could be an only child. Inviting Tyler to live with us has completely convinced me that one is enough, save for one scenario. Should a perfectly refined 18-year-old need adopting, I would gladly take him or her in. What a gift it is to skip all the icky years that are junior high and high school and welcome a child with his head screwed on, a sense of who he is and books on the brain.

So back to school, I go with one in preschool and one at the university. On Tyler's first day of class, I let him out curbside with a full backpack and a pair of eyes keeping watch on the opposite sex. In the backseat of my Camry, Axel sat sucking his thumb and watching "Beauty and the Beast" on his portable DVD player.

After drop-off, I drove straight for the grocery store.

Every day this week Axel and I have held fast to our routine, trying to leave Tyler alone as he adapts to a new life, new freedoms and can dive undistracted into his own unique future. Last night, Axel could no longer contain his excitement with our new boarder, whom he calls his "brother."

"Tyler, can you read my story?" he asked during bedtime snack (which now includes an entire pizza).
"You bet, buddy. You pick, I'll be right in," Tyler responded.

I cleaned up their dishes and reached into the microwave, where I now keep a private stash of candy, as the two read together on the floor of Axel's room. Meal prep aside, I secretly think I'm getting the best deal out of our arrangement.

J.L. Stephens is an always curious Minnesota-grown bookworm with an old soul and an eye for the zest in life.