Things never really go according to plan, do they?
That man you were supposed to marry, that train you were supposed to catch, somebody bringing in cake on day 1 of your diet starting, that skirt you chose to wear to work which transpired to have a hole in it. Without fail, there’s been a hitch. Unforeseen, yes, but an adjustment all the same.
Melissa’s temp job was due to end on Monday, the 20th of February. It was extended for one week, however last week Melissa scored an interview…and one hour later got the job. She’s now staying on.
For a year.
A whole year.
Which is good. No, really. It’s good. She can save up money for university (due to start Autumn 2013).
Of course, she has moved in with us.
Full-time.
Which is good.
Really.
It’s just, well…a seriously major adjustment.
I don’t have a teenager. Well, obviously, I mean kids grow fast but fortunately Nick and Nora are nowhere near that (I’m going to need transitions into ages, instead of just being thrown into them headfirst). I have had exposure to teens courtesy of Melissa and Jeff, but “exposure to” and “hey, I’m going to be in your space…for good” is a very different animal.
First, my make-up gets impacted. Every time I turn around another nail polish has jumped ship. My perfume has also cheated on me, but at least I know what to get her for her birthday. Clothing seems to shift its way in and out of my room as well. Perhaps our home has ghosts.
There are now three of us competing for the cross trainer, as Alastair, Melissa and I are all on a health kick. Occasionally there is a queue of people waiting for the machine once the twins have gone to bed. Spandex never had it so good.
You’d think adding one more adult to the house would mean little change, but the food bill has gone up dramatically. Not just the bill, but generally whenever I turn around to take leftovers to work I find it’s already been nicked. Further, Melissa is on a “I don’t eat carbs” kick, which she’s kind of a pain about. For the record, let me hereby state thus: All those years I was a veggie, even when I brought my own food to parties, I apologize for it. I had no idea how much of a pain in the ass catering for a specific diet/preference is. I get why karma is kicking my ass lately. I get it.
Mostly where life is impacted is in silence and activities. Or, rather, silent activities. I.e. her room is next to ours. You catch what I am throwing at you here? I thought so. No more wandering hands on the sofa in front of the TV, and certainly no loud activities at bedtime. Enough said.
Melissa is great to have around, and it’s not about her. It’s about adjusting to another person in the house (and it’s also about me gaining more patience. This is important). It’s a strange place to be in – we never assumed that they would get to live with us, as it wasn’t their mother’s wishes. Now Melissa is here for a year and Jeff is surfing schools as he wants to move here next year. It’s a full, very chaotic, but rather fun house. It also shows me what I have ahead of me when the twins are teens. Assuming I survive the first round of teens to get to the second, that is.
Besides there are perks – someone else to run errands. Another person to go shopping with. She does (now) contribute a small amount to the household (we’d like her to save her money for school).
But above all, having her around has filled the household with the kind of sweet, amazing and incredible light that many households lack…
…Free babysitting*.
-S.
* You thought I was going to say “love”, didn’t you?
As a person whose children have recently flown the coop, I appreciate and sympathize with you. As much of a joy as teenagers can be, it’s hard when you can’t make noise anymore. Ahem..
Whenever you get frustrated with the presence of a teenager, just close your eyes and visualize…your college living arrangements, that is. I don’t know about you, but between the binge drinker who let her hamster wander free in our dorm room and the summer I shared a two-person apartment with five people (seven if you count boyfriends and girlfriends who never leave), thinking back to that makes me grateful whenever I start to get frustrated with my living arrangements.
Though really, I could do without being woken up in the middle of the night by Screechy McLandlordlet. I thought I’d, you know, get to wait until I got myself knocked up before howling infants became an issue.
Just use that free babysitting for some date nights! Not quite the same as the privacy of your own room, but it’s something. I bet that year will be over before you know it…
See, I’m thinking free babysitting -> date nights -> hotel. Melissa’s old enough to deal with an overnight, right?
Also, my parents’ bedroom was next to mine when I was 12-18. I could hear them having sex a couple of times a week when they thought I was asleep but I was actually up quietly reading. I just cranked up my Discman (yep, pre-iPod!!) and dealt with it. She’s a big girl.
In the house my parents live in now, all the doors have weird vents in them like shutters or something, and so you can hear even the quietest of whispers. Yeahhhh, so when I was home for Christmas I heard a lot more than I did when I was 12! But, you know, they’re human beings, and this time I *did* have an iPod. ;) My parents knew full well I could hear them across the hallway, because you could hear a pin drop across the other side of the house at night, but they tried to keep it down and no one was awkward about it. Don’t ask, don’t tell: I hate it for the American military, love it for overheard sexual things.
I hear you on the adjustment thing. In my case, it’s when my MiL comes to visit. I love her, I really do, and I appreciate what she does for us, but it’s just a wee bit crazy when she pulls out the “I like to do [this] THIS way,” when we’ve already explained why we like to do it another way.
However, years of apartment living mean that I’ve got a good mute button on m’self when necessary. Just sayin’.
‘Spandex never had it so good’ gave me a decent belly laugh, for which I thank you! And I am shamed again by the memory that not only did you once help me to prepare a BBQ here, but I completely blanked on the fact that you were, at the time, a committed veggie. Had it not been for my nutty SIL’s potato skins, I’d'a unintentionally starved you!
Melissa and Jeff always strike me as great individuals (web bleedin’ ate my comment, but I particularly loved Jeff’s long considering Yeeeees. The kid is pleasingly dry!) and fabulous step kids; it’s a marvellous opportunity for her but I do sympathise about the loss of some of your privacy. The trade-offs are there, as you say (free babysitting. GOD.) but it’s a way different dynamic with 3 adults. (Plus the boyfriend, if she acquires one!) I love house guests but I’m crap at sharing my space long-term. Legacy of only-child-dom, I expect: I need to be alone in a room fairly frequently to let my head reset to Sane. Sane-ish.
The bedroom (and the confinement to the bedroom) is a knotty problem. Ball gag?!
Free babysitting is a Godsend, I’d imagine!
I love that you said this: ” All those years I was a veggie, even when I brought my own food to parties, I apologize for it. I had no idea how much of a pain in the ass catering for a specific diet/preference is. I get why karma is kicking my ass lately. I get it.”
We had house guests coming once for 4 days and the wife told me they were on the Atkins diet and couldn’t eat anything else. I told her to bring all her own food, then, as I was not on that diet and didn’t know anything about its and wasn’t interested in learning. She must have decided they could live without it. They came to visit and nothing was said about the diet at all.
You said nearly the same thing that I recognized when I got married and got 6 yo twin step-daughters…it’s the lack of transition. I didn’t get to learn slowly about the space encroachment. I didn’t have an infant who couldn’t go anywhere without an adult. I didn’t have a crawler, then toddler, then a person. I started with 2 who could get shit out of the fridge, leave a trail of evidence so blatant as to what their recent activities had been, and could just walk into my bedroom without any notice. You will get there, you just need time to catch up to reality. And boundaries are good. My most important one was, “Never drink the last coca cola.”
I would kill for free babysitting…but I wouldn’t go so far as to let my surly 16 year old nephew move in! I love him, but he is a huge pain. And he wouldn’t even “borrow” my stuff!
Good luck with the patience…and congratulations on your new addition!
I so get it. Big time. Even the free babysitting doesn’t make up for the sudden invasion of your stuff. Now that mine are all grown I know where everything is and I have stocks of it: scotch tape, make-up, earrings, perfume, pens, paper, scissors, spoons (what the hell did they do with all my spoons?), dishes, glasses, and food. Big time on the food. I’d come home to make dinner and find they had eaten it for snacks. You have my sympathy and empathy.
Hhmm. Methinks that the other parental in yonder Scandi-world is probably seeing someone, hence the kids spreading their wings and wanting to be with you guys…
As for the make-up/clothes thing, I would be livid. It’s a tricky place to be for you, as the “wicked” stepmother (that was my moms role too – I was the Nora in the equation), because you feel like you have to be nice all the time.
All I can say is good luck! It will be interesting to see how it pans out for all of you :)
I sometimes wonder if we’re not enjoying Angel3 so much more than Angel1 & Angel2 because he’s a much lower maintenance kid and we’re older, wiser, and have better perspective or because we have Angel1 & Angel2 to watch him whenever we need to do something.
Sadly, the Solomons have been wrestling with intimacy issues since Angel1 started staying up until 11:00 on weeknights & 12:00 on weekends. :( I feel your pain.
Stepmom here too. All I can say is ‘mornings’. stepteen in the house is not a morning person, will not wake up for/from anything. (gladly we are morning people)
But going from every-so-often to a whole year seems a big transition