I don’t love change. Maybe it’s that most of them lately involve the dreaded Empty Nest. The pet nickname for both my kids is “Birdie.” It wasn’t a conscious choice, just what came out whenever they chirped. But I never would’ve picked a name involving feathers if I could’ve imagined a day when they’d sprout them and fly away.

The temptation, of course, is to wallow. But that’s a black hole, and I refuse to dive in. My antidote is to adjust ever-so gradually. By the time you’ve arrived at the change you forget you weren’t always there.

Example: Six months before I turned 50, I started telling people I WAS 50. I was merely training my tongue to form the words just in case I needed them. After two months of practice, it got a lot easier. By four months, I started to forget that I wasn’t actually 50. And by B-Day, I was over the shock.

This method truly works.

The Empty Nest seems even more treacherous so I started earlier. It helps that our final nest-jumper was preceded by her brother, and so as he packed up, I started planning for the real thing. That was Step 1 and it lasted for nearly two years. Step 1: Learning to mouth the words without tearing up -- a lot like the birthday exercise.

I’m now at Step 2 with three months before "Baby Birdie" will be several states away.

Step 2 is all about getting pissed off. As anyone who lives with teenagers knows, this part is as easy as finding ants in the honey pot – or in the ice cream dish my daughter left on the coffee table. It doesn’t matter that the anger is exaggerated and pointless. It is far better than the alternative. (Pick any alternative you like; they all end at depression.)

So what’s next? Step 3.

I haven’t figured out the plot. Most likely Step 3 involves distracting myself in the kitchen because for me, everything sooner or later veers toward food.

I read recently about a pediatrician, Dr. Alan Greene, who has eaten nothing but organic for the past three years.  His pee turned bright yellow, indicating he was not excreting (and thus absorbing) more of the food’s nutrients. Hmmm. Has anybody out there tried this?

And then there’s the whole eating mindfully option. It’s all about eating with awareness, really tasting your food instead of gulp-and-go. In the first exercise you spend 20 minutes “experiencing” one raisin or one apple slice. That would, in the long run, save a lot of kitchen prep work, and since my stomach will be knotted from grieving, one raisin should suffice.

But if I’m not chopping onions, what on Earth will I do? Time to plan Step 4, I suppose…Any advice for me? I surely need some.