Living With Adult Children

Despite my blog's moniker (for those of you who don't speak French - My Empty Nest), mine has not really been empty. We have under the same roof right now three adult females, three adult males. The adult children have come back with their cars and boxes and shoes. They come temporarily and it takes a little while to adjust into a rhythm that works for everyone.  They aren't always the best houseguests or roommates. They leave their coats on chairs, their books on the counter, their dirty dishes in the sink or my favorite peeve:  their wrappers and empty pop cans on the counter. The laundry room never rests and trying to figure out what has been washed is a mystery every day. Sometimes they stay out late and don't let us know where they are. Sometimes they play their music loudly or stay up late watching movies that have a lot of guns, and sirens. They can be at times self centered and self absorbed. They wouldn't think of walking the dog or starting dinner or shovelling the walk.

I appreciate that coming back home isn't their ideal either. They are well beyond the years of being parented and have felt the freedom of independence. They are in transition -disequilibrium Piaget describes which is necessary for their growth. And I'm not the most desirable of roommates either: I'm irritable, territorial and can be overbearing. I revert into the parent I was when they were teenagers which was no June Cleaver. All the ugly underbelly stuff gets exposed and sadly, I realise, that I haven't progressed all that much. I'm good to excellent on creating guilt.

Life around here right now often feels like we're in those bumper cars experiencing regular dints,a few stalls and the occaisional trap. It ain't a picnic nor 1st July.