OPINION: An empty nest? What's that?

Eileen White Jahn of Rockville Centre chairs the business administration department at St. Joseph's College in Patchogue.

It's now official: I am running a home for underemployed adults.

Our fourth child has joined the ranks of his three older siblings as an adult and a college graduate, making me the mother of four grown children. My afterthoughts, the two high-school girls, are not far behind. Empty nest, here I come!

Or so I thought.

I have come to realize that the empty nest syndrome is a myth. I'm not talking about the so-called parental depression over the children's departure (although that, definitely, has to be made up). It's the part about grown kids actually leaving home that's not happening.

Though each one who flew out of this cuckoo's nest planned never to return, they have all come back to roost. My emptying nest has been refilled - and with a lot more stuff to boot. How many futons and mini-fridges can one high ranch hold?

With the scarcity of jobs, the high cost of housing and graduate school, and the unprecedented burden of student loans, we're seeing this trend all over the country.

I remember my own parents lived in such dread of never getting rid of their eight children that they threatened to sell the house, buy a Winnebago, and take off with no forwarding address. I kind of get their point now.

But really, is it such a bad thing for 20-somethings to live at home? I got married right after college, but most of my siblings didn't. They came home. My husband's parents raised 10 children, most of whom lived at home through their 20s. That nest was bursting at the seams.

Everyone in both families worked - some even commuting with the dads. They saved money, some went to graduate school and then moved out in their late 20s, with a fairly solid foundation.

Even I was not as independent as I liked to think. My parents had to cosign our lease, we borrowed graduate school tuition now and then, and on weekends I'd go home and "shop" - leaving my parents' house with bags of groceries that Mom had gotten great deals on and leftovers that would last a week.

If you've ever spent time watching a nest of birds, you know that Mother Nature doesn't adhere to a strict timeline either. In my summer place, we have barn swallows nesting in the eaves of our porch. They work like the devil to fatten up those chicks when they first hatch. In bird-years, that time period must be like the early childhood years.

Then, when they are avian teens, the flying lessons start. First the parents demonstrate the skill, then they coax the youngsters to try short little flights, patching them up a bit from their crashes and fender-benders. Sort of like their human counterparts, but without those pesky insurance claims.

Then, when the offspring are a bit bigger, the parents tease them out of the nest, gradually nudging them farther and farther away. One by one, they get the boot, going off to fend for themselves in the wild.

But I've noticed that sometimes after a spell away at Barn Swallow College, they return. They rest up a bit and get their bearings. Mama Bird and Papa Bird don't squawk too much, and occasionally they pass along a worm, a bug, the odd bag of chips.

Soon enough, they all find their wings. Then Mom and Dad have a right old party, ripping up the nest and taking off with no forwarding address.

My kids all work, and they all participate meaningfully in the household and community. Truth be told, I like having them around. They are all moving forward with their lives and finding their useful places in society, and I'm happy to give them a foundation for that. My husband and I have spent a lot of time feathering our nest, and I'm glad it's getting the use.

I realize that Mother Nature isn't always the best role model - after all, there are some species who actually eat their young. (Now there's a thought to cut down on food bills . . . ) But I think there might be a thing or two to be learned from our friends the swallows. Teach the kids the ropes, give them their independence, welcome them back when they need it, and when you finally get rid of those grown children, have yourself a party and rip up the nest.