When I've figured it all out I'll write a book to share the wisdom. In the meantime, I'm stumbling my way through living with my mom. We've been roommates since 2004. Any adult who has tried living with another adult knows there are challenges... especially when the roles change.
We get along fine most of the time. I make mistakes and so does she (although only one of us admits it). Sometimes I over-indulge her (which is why she isn't driving the little car I initially planned to buy for her). Sometimes I get so busy I don't give her the attention she craves. Sometimes I crave privacy (dating is VERY awkward). Sometimes I get it right. Other times, like tonight, she makes me feel like I've done her so very wrong.
Most mornings I make breakfast for the two of us. With the exception of a few nights each week, she makes our dinners. Am I thankful? Absolutely! If I was single, the menu would be far simpler. My problem? The issues Wheezy has saved up for me to discuss at dinner. Sick friends and family, medicare complaints, terrible stories she's heard from Nancy Grace, neighbors who curb their dogs in our yard, her health issues... all within 5 minutes of getting home. After a day of feeling like I sucked on the air, I was simply overwhelmed. So after hearing the concerns about the credit card company, the poo-ing pugs and low blood sugar... when she moved onto her IRA, I asked for a reprieve. My request was met with "I'm alone all day" and the most disappointed look a senior citizen can give.
When I was growing up I remember thinking my mom was a monster for instituting quiet hour. For about an hour after she got home from work she demanded silence. I couldn't understand it at the time because I was just a kid who loved to talk. Now? Let's just say I had a guilt-ridden epiphany.
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