I am now a roommate. This something I have never been. Ever. I didn’t go away to college and share a dorm room, I’ve never had to share an apartment or a house. From the day I moved out of my parents house, I have been able to live alone. Well, until I got married and had kids. But a husband and children are very different from having roommates.
This new household consists of my best friend (who else would me in, especially with an already full house!), her 12-year-old daughter, a 17-year-old young man, a newly minted adult attending a local college and myself. This is a loud and busy household. Everyone has a different schedule. People are up and out the door at different times. In short, a typical family household.
I thought after years of being alone with loads of quiet when I wanted it, this would be a tough to deal with. But I find it’s not. It is as if I have slipped my ‘mom’ hat back on with no effort what-so-ever. I help out by cooking and cleaning, helping the kids out as they may need it, and picking up the kids when they get stuck and need a ride. My roommate doesn’t push things off on me, I do these things gladly. I know how tough it is to be a single parent. And she is no slacker. She works hard at her job, and hard at home.
All the kids are good kids. They pretty much do typical kid things. Like hitting up Mom when she is too tired to fight and say ‘no’, or not picking up after themselves when they should. Unfortunately for them there is a now a second Mom in the house to make sure they get their chores done and silence the lame excuses.
There are things I have time to do that Mom doesn’t have time for. The Young Man and I sat down together and I taught him how to sew on a button and how to fold his t-shirts. Together, we cleaned and organized his room. I have extracted a promise from him that he will keep it up with no nagging. Yes, he has a prize in the works. And yes, I think he gets I mean it what I say and there will be no prize if he doesn’t follow through. He is good kid, almost an adult. A Young Man with lots of promise and a good head on his shoulders.
The 12-year-old also wants a sewing lesson. At some point we will also sit down and talk a bit, as I teach her how to sew on a button and make a thread shank. This one has a few issues, all in all a good kid. She tries, for the most part, to understand and follow through. Well, as much as a 12-year-old does those things.
I am looking for work and when I find something that will pay my bills, I will move out. Not because I dislike this arrangement. I actually enjoy being a part of this household. But because we are a bit over crowded here. My dog can’t live with me here, because there are cats. And my girl doesn’t do well with cats. My room isn’t really my room. It a loaner. No, I will move simply because this house isn’t large enough for this big of a family.
That will be a sad day for me.