I have a feeling this column will be getting more blog-time than it has in the past. Why?
Because I'm almost 30 years old, a parent of two, and...live with my mother.
It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement until Joe moved up. We'd planned to either buy or rent a place (depending on when our house sold, which, as of yet, it has not) once Joe arrived. We did some house-hunting and nothing seemed right. The thought of being tied to another mortgage while we still had our old mortgage hanging over our heads made renting seem all that more appealing. And, we found an old friend who had the perfect rental for us. I told my mom we'd found a place and we'd be moving out March 1.
She strenuously objected to the very thought. It was impractical for us to pay rent someplace else when we still had to pay our mortgage and could live with her. When would she get to see her grandchildren and all their milestones that occur in our daily living? How did we ever come up with such a ridiculous plan like worrying about imposing on her and wanting to be on our own? Who else would fill her big empty house the way we had with all of our little-kid-chaos?
We all had some worries about how living together was going to work out, but Joe and I liked the idea of getting to spend more time with Mom (well, having the kids spend more time with Mom....we're pretty sure if we didn't have Sam and Andie, she would have booted us out long ago) and setting up a mutually beneficial living arrangement. She was right about having a big empty house that was going to waste and we were happy to fill up the upstairs for her. In return, Joe can help with handy-man projects and I can help with dog-care for Moka while taking care of Schatzi & Doc.
We've been slowly reorganizing the upstairs to accommodate us a little better. Mom has lots of treasures (and other random items) buried away that we're going to have to store or donate. I never really realized my mother was such a hoarder...perhaps it comes from growing up in the Great Depression.
(Just kidding, Mom. Ha ha. Laugh with me now).
So, we're home...in my childhood home...at least for the next 2 years until we figure out what our next step is. Thanks, Mom. You always take good care of us.