April, 2019...
Me: "Eventually you limit your inner circle of people to only those who fill your bucket. Remember "fill your bucket" from Elementary School?"
Youngest: "Yup"
Me: "Basically the only people I have now that don't fill my bucket are you guys."
Y: "Wait. You're saying *I* don't fill your bucket?"
Me: " DUDE...You don't even clean your own mess up in the kitchen."
Y: "That's fair. I can't even argue that."
Two years later, here we are. Oldest has, since living and sharing a kitchen with 8 other guys, started to see what he had at home. I get occasional appreciative texts, or impromptu rants about roommates who don't know how to wash a dish. Do you know how frustrating that is? Yes, buddy, yes I do.... Oh yeah....
But Youngest, has still a long way to go. To say he's not filling the bucket is an understatement. He's run it dry, and poked a hole in it. Exhausted, Saturday night I told him the door would be locked from now on from 11:30 to 5:30 am. If he wanted to sleep here, he'd need to make it home before 11:30, otherwise he'd have to find a place to sleep for the night. It's two fold really, as we have a small house and he's LOUD when he comes in. I need to sleep, as my auto immunes are in high gear post COVID shot, and I need sleep to recoup. He also needs to regroup and appreciate what he has here, weather he knows it or not. We don't run a hotel. I am not a maid, or short order cook who leaves food in the fridge for consumption later. You want dinner? Be home for it.
The first night, he was home at 8:30, spent a lot of time upstairs semi engaged. He headed out around 10pm. There were texts back and forth, assuming there would be a gold star of some sort for being home earlier, until he finally just said ok. I have no idea where he slept, but he rolled in around 6:30 am and crashed hard in his bed.
The second night he begged and begged for 12:30. Not acceptable, but since I didn't have to work in the morning, I acquiesced to midnight. He was silent coming in.
Third night he left the downstairs door unlocked for himself. Of course I caught it, and as he walked in at 11:25, we had words.
Tonight he's thinking he'll be home. The verdict is still out, but the door will be locked at 11:30. And I've already checked the downstairs door, so that's not an option. He did however, change his plans and came home for dinner. There was a clear look of relief on his face when he found there was still some left.
And because parenting is freaking hard, setting ground rules comes additional stress, stomach issues and a lack of sleep. I know that this needs to be done. Intellectually I know I need to do this for all of us, for my health, and ultimately for Youngest. I also know that this will likely shift and change when his brother returns home from the city in 3 weeks. But emotionally I feel terrible. After everything I've done, there are nights he'd rather be homeless, sleeping in his car, than in his warm bed. That, if given a feasible option, he'd be out of here in a heartbeat, never looking back. And worse, that he's making choices that he knows stress me out and cause me to get sick, and he does them anyways.
And then, there's the guilt. The guilt of letting him fail. The guilt of not doing this sooner. The guilt of not doing more, and the guilt of not doing less. What if something happens to him? What if nothing happens to him, and he's fine with living in his car eating cheap take out that has no mom love cooked in? What if I really am insignificant to him? What if all the effort over the last 19 years of my life was completely unnecessary?
And what do I have to show for all of this gut wrenching Momma turmoil?
An empty bucket, with duct tape where the hole used to be.
I have to start somewhere, no?
Oh it's just so much. I have no advice for you, but I have to say that in all the years I have been your friend, I have marveled at how amazingly you handle things. You have done the most amazing job with your kids. You are a wonderful mom. You can only do so much, though. He has to do some of it himself. Sending you a big hug and a wish that this time he will finally GET it.
ReplyDeleteHe won't. He's 19. He might get it when I land in the hospital, or not. But he did come home last night, 45 minutes early, and sat in the living room with me while I finished my TV show and he ate a bowl of ice cream.
DeleteOne more thing. If I still had this, I would send it to you. But it's forever immortalized on the internet, and I'd like you to use as much of it as you need.
ReplyDeletehttps://amimental.blogspot.com/2008/02/bet-you-wish-you-had-this.html
That is awesome. In the coffee table I'm revamping there's a little space perfect for hiding stuff. Perhaps it will be where I keep my paper happiness. You know, so no one can find it and throw it away.
DeleteJuli, you are doing what needs to be done, laying down the ground rules. And I know, believe me I KNOW, it is hard to do. He is making his choices and must face any consequence from those choices. And I KNOW that you feel guilty that you are laying down the ground rules and worry about those consequences. You shouldn't - but I know. Being a parent is freakin' hard and never seems to get any easier but you, my friend, are doing an amazing job.
ReplyDeleteSending you love and hugs. You know I'm always just an email away if you need to vent.
Tough love is just as hard on the parents as on the kids...but it is good for both in the long run. *hugs*
ReplyDeleteBeing a parent is hard being the child of a dying parent is hard
ReplyDeleteI think that was a GREAT idea! My son knew where we would draw the line, and when he was ready to cross it, He took responsibility for himself and got his own place. Was it smooth? Not really... but in the long run it did us both good. It may take that for you guys.
ReplyDeleteYoungest likes to use the line like a jump rope. He knows where it is, and when he over jumps, I need tp over correct. He has looked into getting his own place, but it is just not feasible here, cost of living is crippling. In addition, I have heard it rumored that he told someone he knows he's not ready, that he can't depend on roommates to help him with some of the basic life stuff that I help him with. While he'll never tell me that directly, it's nice that he recognizes it.
DeleteDo you not trust him with a key or is 11:30 the "curfew" which seems reasonable; but just wondering? They never appreciate what they have until its too late and when is it too late? Often when we have passed from this world to the next. Then they wish they had spent more time, etc. I did appreciate my mom and I wasn't a "wild" child but I didn't truly appreciate her until it was too late. He will grow up but it may take til his late 20s/early 30s. Oldest is catching on because he's in a situation where he has to "fend" for himself with the other guys and sees how nice it was at home. Perhaps Youngest living a bit on his own would be a good thing though that is always fraught with worry. Its hard being a parent, no matter what age the kids are.
ReplyDeleteemail me if you want the link to my new blog; I'm finally ready to rejoin the blogging world.
betty
We have a combo lock on the door. At 1130, I lock the traditional locks. The issue is, the main floor of the house is just over 800 sq feet, so he wakes us up when he comes in. And he's LOUD, often deciding to cook at whatever time it is, and the kitchen is directly opposite when I sleep (about 20 feet away) and I have an old antique door on the bedroom that is glass. So while you can't see through the door, the light is still blinding at 2am. Hubs gets up at 530, and myself at 630 for work. If he comes home and wakes me up at 1130, I can still fall back asleep and get a solid 6.5 more hours. If he comes home at 2, there's no chance of me getting any sleep.
DeleteMy daughter (years ago) moved out at 19, completely unready to handle "the basic life stuff." It was the best thing she ever did. She learned. There are plenty of communal living situations for young adults (shared townhouse, shared apartment) available in our area, not sure about yours. Affordable for a low-wage earner, perfect training wheels for learning to live on your own. We still paid for medical and such, but she paid for everything else, and she learned to take responsibility for her own life, thanks be to God. Once they reach a certain age, they just cannot grow up any further staying in their childhood bedroom, you know? (Dealing with this with another daughter now, ugh) The flip side of that is, once they mature, they are perfectly awesome to have live with you! My daughter was here for 9 months this past year, and it was so awesome, it seemed like a miracle. It WAS a miracle.
ReplyDeleteAll this to say, I know every situation is different and yours is tricky, but often they have to leave before they are "ready." Staying longer doesn't make them more ready, it just makes your life miserable.
They just can't let us rest. Always pushing.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie