So I knew this would be a thing at some point. The inevitable conversation on joining the households. Not marriage. Just moving in together. As that is the truest test of all. (Other than having a kid. And I already have one, I don’t need to toss another human in the mix)
My Grandmother who I am very close to has been diagnosed with advanced Alzheimer’s. I firmly believe it is advanced because her husband (NOT my Grandfather) has been emotionally abusing her through isolation, manipulation and fear. Some events recently transpired and she is living with us now. The house as you can imagine is full right now. Mom, Dad, Me, Little man, Their two little fuzz ball dogs, my crazy Boston Terrier, the new little kitten and now Grandma. I’ve been feeling displaced. I had lost my bedroom for what I thought was a weekend and turned into a week. My things were put in grocery bags and bins one night when I was at J’s and I felt like I had lost the only space that was truly mine.
In venting to J, he immediately pulled the “My home is your home” card. And I don’t share the sentiment yet. I still feel like a guest. Despite how he tells me not to feel that way.
But with all the changes. And with my life in the state it’s in. I did some thinking. And I concluded it was time to have the talk.
Of course I planted the seed in his head that a talk was coming. A good one. One he has wanted to have. And then full blown meltdown. I came down with ANOTHER bug (I won’t even go into the details but this is the 6th illness in a month and I’m fucking done) and J freaked out about germs. Part of me doesn’t blame him. BUT. BIG BIG BUT… I wanted to have a conversation about moving in… like LIVING with him and he is shunning me because I am sick. Something he cannot do if I lived there. So I gave him my thoughts over text and after a fun night of dinner with a friend he was remorseful and saw that he was kicking me while I was down.
I went over but we didn’t have that talk. I was weepy. I was tired. I was a little broken. But the next night I came over. I wanted to make a us meatloaf, so I went to Wegmans. Closed. We had hurricane force winds tear through the area and I realized as I drove from store to store, dodging shut down roads and downed power lines, that we were not going to be making dinner. Luckily we had power. Most of the area did not. So we drove out to a part of town we thought was the least affected (not entirely true) and we got a hot meal at Applebees. I was so uncomfortable. Hacking and coughing. And then J says “So you said we need some real talk…” Oops. I had forgotten. Between the obnoxious coughing fits and sniffling we discussed. We aired each others concerns and we hashed most of it out. So I was thinking we’d start by a few overnights here and there. And talking to the little guy about living at J’s house. And in about a years time we would be ready.
Then J says “So by this summer we will start moving you guys in?” I gave him what I describe as a total “derp” face. I was a little off guard. I guess we were on different timelines. But before I jumped to shoot him down, I smiled and I said “Maybe, lets take this day by day, we will know when it’s time”
He was so happy we had the talk. I could tell he was silently having a victory dance. I sort of was. But I was sick and I was tired.
That night half of the shingles from his roof blew off. He was in full blown first time homeowner melt down mode. But it was more. He wanted his house to be ready for us to move in, and a new roof will be a set back for him.
I want to throw this out there for public opinion.
How do you blend a family? I mean, he’s 3 so it’s SUPER hard to help him understand. But I cannot live with my parents forever, even though its very convenient. I deserve a chance at a normal family structure.
There seriously is NEVER a handbook for this shit…