My two adult children have fairly good heads on their shoulders. They also though have picked work fields where stable 9-5 employment is rare or nonexistent. They both need to pay their dues, taking the short term jobs, building a work portfolio, lining up the next gig, hopefully leading to a time when they have such steady work, they truly are making a career out of it. This has meant sleepless nights for me, as I hear about the in between times, and can't help but take on a mothers worry. The last few weeks have been particularly anxiety inducing for me.
DS's lease on his apartment was up the end of November and his roommates going in different directions. He really wanted to find something very small and live on his own. Without 12 months of one employer, and not having a bank account with 12 months of rent in reserve, nor a documented salary of 3X his rent, he was having no luck finding something new. On top of that, if he did find someone more understanding of the nature of his work in the entertainment industry, the place was snapped up before he could meet the landlord in person. I was seriously worrying about him landing on the street, sleeping in his car, his futon bed, desk, television, clothes and cookware as his roommates. Not his perfect plan, but yesterday he was able to find a sublet room in a three bedroom apartment, a legal sublet, in the same building as his former place. While not what he wanted, it is affordable, and can work month to month until something more of what he wanted and more in the area he wanted to live comes available. He did unfortunately, unbeknownst to me, have to stay two nights in a motel, spending money he doesn't;t have because he hadn't lined up a storage locker for his stuff, so couch surfing with a friend, his original plan, wouldn't work. He hadn't gotten some money back, and a delayed paycheck deposit, meant his cash flow was a little tight. Welcome to Bank of Mom for a 30 day loan.
DD#1 is back home, more than likely at least until February. In the last twenty four months, she has had eight addresses, not counting three months living on the road in an RV for her job last spring. This only counts one of her three stints back home with us. The job she took this fall with the organization she worked for this summer turned out to be nothing she was promised, nor what she wants to be doing. She used little to none of her experience and expertise, and was working with young people in a completely different need than she felt she could do. Misrepresentation on salary, working hours, and staffing structure made it just a not workable. Add in the fact that she was geographically isolated from not just her friends and family, but also with a work schedule that would make meeting anyone new, friend or potential more than friend, difficult, she was quite miserable. She has a couple freelance projects lined up, and is massively looking for something in the Twin Cities. She is giving herself a two month window to pull something together enough to relaunch on her own, but for now, her apartment contents are back in our garage, basement, and crammed in her old bedroom, again. .
I wouldn't describe their lifestyles as boomerang, where young adults end up back with their parents for endless periods of time. I feel like it is more like a ripple effect-they make decisions, and then if things go faulty, it ripples back to me and DH. Granted, neither has anyone to look after besides themselves, but it doesn't help me yearn for stability for their lives. My home will always be open for any of my kids, and if the occasional hand up is needed, well, what are parents for. When both DH and my parents were our age, or when we were our kids age, they provided hand ups in ways like free babysitting, picking up clothes or miscellaneous "gifts" for our young, just launching family. While I don't believe parents owe adult children anything, and certainly should not put their own future and retirement at risk, helping out when needed is what families are for. However, it might be along two months.
About 20 years ago, my family of four at the time. took a vacation to the Wisconsin Dells, waterpark capitol of the Midwest. Besides oodles of waterparks, there were water ski shows, corny tourist attractions like wax museums, and fun houses, dude ranches for horseback riding, and of course the "Ducks" old military water and street vehicles that took tourists on tours of the area on land and then into the water to see the interesting rock formations. We crammed a lot into a four day vacation followed by a long drive home. I remember once we got the car unpacked and the kids back in the house, the dog retrieved from where he was staying, my son, about 5 or 6 at the time, threw his body onto the couch exclaiming, "I'm dead meat tired." The expression has stuck. DD#2 who wasn't born for another six years, uses the expression as well.
Today, I am dead meat tired. There has been no slow down at my office-I am still doing my job and filling the gap from turnover of a manager in my division. Requests and needs are coming above and below my position, and outside the organization. Still, it is November, the month we are to be thankful. I am thankful I have a job, but am really trying to hold it together until this chaos passes.
On top of the work life imbalance, I have been fielding daily calls, e-mails, and texts from both DS and DD#1 about their relocations. DD#1 still is questioning her decision to move out west, and DS seems to have an almost fairy tale perspective of what his life will be after his move. I miss that 6 year old boy that played so hard on water slides and rafting boats, to the point he was just ready for a long nap in his own house. Now he seems to want to burn candles at both end, without really have a clue where the wick will come from.
I feel like I am getting about as much sleep as I did when the kids were infants. I toss and turn at night, praying silently that they both will be fine, and things will work out for them. I remember the teacher at the classes leading up to delivery of the babies and the nurses in the maternity ward reminding me to sleep when the baby sleeps, to take care of myself. I believe the last text is done for the night-no drama should be added. I think I will listen to those nurses now and put myself to bed, sleeping while my "babies" appear to be at rest. Tomorrow, the cycle will start again and I'll just be another pork chop on the barbecue grill of life.
My daughter arrived safely at what four days ago was going to be her new city. Three days of driving, and a day of being overwhelmed, she says she wants to pack it in. Of course that is not realistic, and no one should make any life decisions when they are physically and emotionally exhausted, but I can't help feeling I helped lead to this frustration. Did my angst bleed through to her to the point that she already thinks she made a bad decision? Is she just experiencing what every young adult feels when they attempt to launch half a country away, and this is entirely normal-almost expected? I'm looking for stories-the good, the bad, the funny, about supporting adult kids in settling new. No helicoptering is intended, but if I am going to get the calls, and tears through the phone line, I want to be prepared.
While this is not a mommy blog, nor an empty nest blog, so much of my identity the last 26 year has been that of mom. Mom first in fact. Every other identity I had, sorry to say even wife, took a step behind the mom role. When you decide to be a parent with love and intention, doesn't it mean that you have decided to use your earthly powers, no matter how slight, to protect them? I'll keep talking her down from her emotions when she calls. I'll keep sending her web links with advice and tips from others who have relocated to a new city, more to help me cope, than I think she'll really read and utilize. Ultimately she will need to decide, and she can't decide for a while, as there is no way she will drive cross country alone again, and it would take time to work out a drive buddy for her. Perhaps by then, her angst will have dissipated and she is feeling more sure. Ok readers, your turn. Aunties, uncles, friends, and colleagues of those that have experienced please join in as well. You may have the best feedback, having witnessed the angst a person removed. I hope you all had a more restful weekend than I.
We area household of three again. As parents, we hope we have given our children roots that they feel strong, but also wings so they can move on with their own lives, taking on challenges and making the most of opportunities. I have now fully launched out of the home two adult children. DD#1 hit the road for her westward move. This time, as a cousin reminded me, she is a non-passport airplane ride away. It will feel odd though as we try and pack up the remnants she left behind, items that will need to be shipped, knowing this house will be a place to visit, not her home.
My son has not really been home for more than a college break or a visit since the summer after his freshman year. He's had multiple moves, and is planning another at the end of the month. In his head he was already independent back then, but the clutter he left behind, and the calls for just a "small bit of a loan", told me otherwise. This move of my daughter though feels like the cords with both kids have been officially cut.
They have whole relationships and experiences that I have no part of. My son's work has taken him for weeks at a time all over the country; living out of a small suitcase and a backpack is the norm to him. While I travel frequently for work and short trips at that, I am happy to be back home in my own house and bed at the end of the trip. We met many of my daughters international friends when we visited England last spring, but not nearly all. On her birthday two weeks ago, she was receiving cards and gifts from England, Italy, and India, and Facebook greetings from countries so far and wide I couldn't name them. The flowers in this post were sent from her dear friend in Bulgaria-the wonders of e-commerce. She couldn't take them with in her jam packed card, but two weeks later, they are still fresh and beautiful, and it is bittersweet looking at them while I type this post.
My daughter is on the road as I type this. I will feel angst until I know she has safely arrived at her final destination, and yet more angst, until I know she has settled into her new home and job. She has a good head on her shoulders, and once my son moves, she will have family again near her. I've connected her with a work colleague and friend who lives in the incredibly big city she has moved to, so help is an emergency call away should she need it. As I feel the angst, I also feel some of her excitement, and have a little envy of what starting fresh in a new place might be like. It is a fleeting envy though. I love my little house, my pup, the hubby, and DD#2, with whom we have a lot of her life to be a participant in before she graduates. It is a new phase. We are a household of three again.
