Every real estate agent will tell you that the most important thing to consider is Location, Location, Location.. With us, that was a close second to Communication. When we first started out as a multi-generational family, we lived in a very small three bedroom house with no grass for Abbi to play on. After deciding that by combining our incomes, we could afford a larger house, we sat down and talked about how the costs (which obviously would be higher) would be split and what our wish list for a new home looked like. Our house had to be close to my Mom and close to major streets so those who worked or went to school wouldn't have to drive forever just to get there. I knew there was a chance that I might end up having to foot the entire bill at some point, (such as if my sons could afford to move out on their own before the lease was up) so we set a realistic price point that would ensure that we wouldn't have to vacate because we could no longer afford to stay in that house. At that family meeting, we agreed that it would be on a one year trial basis and we would discuss our options when our lease came up for renewal. After a few weeks of searching online and on "foot", we thought we had found the perfect house. We put in an application and thought we had it sewn up. The day we were to sign the papers for the lease and pick up the key, I arrived at the realty management office to hear the words, "Oh, the owner changed his mind." WHAT??!! I had already given notice to our current landlord. We were ready to move out and most of our possessions were in boxes. I had a moving company scheduled to move the things that wouldn't fit in my van. The consequences of those six little words had such an impact! It would have been really nice if the management personnel had communicated that to us earlier. The result of this miscommunication was a somewhat frantic search for another house that was as suitable.
My younger son, on his college Spring Break, my 2 1/2 year granddaughter and I spent hours driving around neighborhoods we were interested in, looking for a house that we could call home. I carried a notebook and wrote down addresses and phone numbers of realtors on every house that looked like it had four bedrooms...and grass! It had to have grass at least in the backyard, so Abbi would have a nice place to play. When we'd find a house we liked, I'd get out of the van and look over the fence at the back yard. If I turned around with a smile on my face, Abbi would say, "Yay, grass!" I'm not sure she really knew what that was since she had spent the majority of her lifetime living with rock in the front and back yards. But she knew it must be a good thing. At the end of the week, we were so tired from driving around and never finding anything that really spoke to us. I said, "let's just do this neighborhood and then go home. I'll call some of these numbers and see what shakes out." Adrian sighed and agreed; even Abbi was tired of spending day after day in her carseat. As we turned the corner, our faces lit up at the one house that was for lease. It was almost as if the sun was brighter over this house and birds were chirping a welcome. This house was the one; we just knew it! Instead of waiting to get home and call, I called the leasing agent right away to see if we could see the inside. The second we stepped in, we knew we were home.
Our one year experiment has now stretched to four. It hasn't always been a bed of roses. Sometimes those roses come complete with thorns. Along with love and forgiveness, we have put communication at the top of the list of "things we do to keep us sane". At first we had monthly family meetings. We're down now to occasional discussions. Any of the adults have the opportunity to call for one and we use them to clarify, sometimes vent frustrations, communicate expectations and handle the various bumps in the road of life. Some of those bumps have included several job layoffs, a new baby and a third high-risk pregnancy; Mom's stroke also caused some communication issues, since I wasn't living at home and wasn't aware of everything that was going on. Phone calls, text messages and emails sometimes have to serve in a pinch. Nevertheless, communication is paramount in our situation.
Even when my sons were little, we had family meetings. Sometimes it was difficult to get their full attention due to distractions of phones ringing, friends playing, television, and music through headphones. I would tell the boys we needed to talk, so we'd jump in the car and drive to Wickenburg. It only took about 45 minutes from our house and we were out of the city and away from all distractions. Often we'd sit at a table at a rest stop just outside of town and have our discussion. Our rules were (and still are): everyone gets a turn to speak, there is no butting in with your own version until it's your turn to speak, there are no put-downs allowed and we always end with a group hug. It's pretty much the same now, although we don't drive to Wickenburg. Sometimes the meeting is short and sweet; other times it takes longer, but the communication is the same...and vital.
I grew up in a great home, but my parents thought they would shield us from some of the onerous financial concerns they dealt with. After my divorce, I always felt that I had to be strong and do everything myself, never asking for help with anything, especially money. As a result, talking about finances is difficult for me. I have tried to do it differently so my sons can deal with that issue better than I have. Our number one topic at our occasional meetings is money, mostly who can pay what bill. Because of the job layoffs, I have had to pay for all the bills at times. I'm glad we found a home that my income could afford for that very reason. With everything that life has thrown our way, I couldn't imagine having to pack and move, too.
I have to admit that I have a secret. Besides communicating with my family, I also talk daily with God. I pray about each member of my family and anything that they might be dealing with at the time. I pray that my words will be tender and sweet, since I might have to eat them later. Prayer for our communication with each other, our finances, even mundane subjects like chores are all mentioned in my talks with God. The subject of communication with God is all through the Bible. My favorite verse on that subject is found in 2Chronicles 7:14: "If my people, which are called by My name, will humble themselves and pray...I will hear from heaven..." It is humbling, indeed, to realize that the God of all creation, loves me enough to actually listen to me, even when I'm whining about little niggly things. He hears me. And He speaks to me. I've always believed in following my "gut" and that feeling that I get there is God telling me which way to go in any given situation. When I was in college, I had a choice to make between two opportunities that were equally good. I prayed and admitted to God that I had no idea which way He wanted me to go. And that I was so confused that I didn't need just a "sign", but a billboard. Two days after communicating my desire to follow His lead in this situation, I was traveling down a street I wasn't on much. As the road curved around I saw a literal billboard that some church had put up with a scripture verse on it. That verse was the answer to my plea. God had given me the billboard I had communicated to Him that I needed! I couldn't tell you now what the two options were, nor the scripture quoted on the sign, but I know even today that God heard my prayer and answered my cry for help.
My communication with my family is necessary to keeping our household on the same track. Communication with God is essential to keeping myself on the right track. Communication may not get rid of all the bumps on this road, but it helps us get over them more easily. We just link arms and go with the flow. And that group hug at the end...well, that's what makes it all worthwhile.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Huh?!?!
Whenever my 2-year-old grandson is trying to figure something out, he says, "huh? wha? huh? wha?" with a quizzical look on his face that is just adorable! I imagine that's how you're feeling this very moment. How do Sandwiches, Boomerangs and Babies go together?
Sandwiches are that generation that is helping parents that might need a bit more than just a phone call every so often to check in. Sometimes Sandwiches actually live with their parents, or, more often, the parent(s) move in with their adult children. At times a caregiver is hired to help; and once in awhile, the parent(s) need to be placed in a care facility with caregiving offered at the level that is needed. What makes Sandwiches, well, sandwiches, is that they are also still raising their own children or have older children/young adults living at home. They are then "sandwiched" between two other generations.
Boomerangs are the generation that has left home at one time or another, sometimes for college, or because they are able to be on their own. Then something happens to shake up the once-secure foundation and they move back home. A job lay-off (or four), a nasty divorce complete with custody battle, a downturn in the economy, an unplanned pregnancy...You get the drift. Some Boomerangs leave the nest and bounce back in numerous times like a, well, boomerang and the parental front door takes on the atmosphere of a revolving door.
Babies are pretty self-explanatory. They come, usually after approximately 9 months and usually belonging to the Boomerangs. Sometimes, however, given the state of the economy and/or low-rung-on-the-totem-pole pay, day care is out of the question, so retired grandparents (Sandwiches) pitch in to help.
I am a Sandwich and was a Boomerang with Boomerangs of my own and grand"Babies" that I'm helping to take care of. I lived at home while I went to college. Thanks in part to two major surgeries and a change of degree program along with three school changes, I managed to cram a four year degree into seven years. My parents were great, never making me feel any less welcome during that long-drawn out time. I'm pretty sure I actually pulled far less than my weight in chores around the house because I was always so busy. Honestly, I don't know how I found the time to go to classes, I was so busy doing theatre, music, volunteering with Camp Fire, hanging out with my friends, supporting the sports teams of my school, and all those other things that are so essential (in a student's eyes, anyway) to a well-rounded education.
After graduation I taught for three years on the Apache Reservation. I loved the kids and the job, but felt really isolated and alone so far from home and my friends. When I moved back home, I moved back HOME. I was welcomed with open arms, even though in leaving my job, I left a paycheck, too. I was unable to find another full-time position at that time, so I substituted for three different school districts. It brought in enough to make my car and student loan payments, but not enough to be able to move out. Which turned out to be okay, because I got married at the end of that semester and finally gave my parents the empty nest they'd been kind enough not to point out they wanted.
Eight and a half years later, I boomeranged again, this time with my two little boys in tow. By this time I did have a full-time job with a decent paycheck, but my mother was worried that we wouldn't be safe in a place by ourselves. Two months later, Mom felt okay, but less than thrilled when we moved out into a little condo of our own. Two months after that, Mom took us home to stay with her after a long, scary bout with blood clots in my lungs. We stayed that time for five weeks before I felt strong enough to go to our own place. See what I mean by Boomerang?
I am a Sandwich, too. Last year my mother had a stroke that put her in the hospital and rehab. When she went home, I moved in with her. It was hard to see her that debilitated and was time for me to pick up the reins and be the parent for awhile. She is a walking, talking miracle and has no physical defect from the event, but I needed to be there for her during that time. Mom is once again living alone and I check in with her often. Her short term memory is fuzzy sometimes and I like to make sure she's taking the medicine that's keeping her blood pressure in control. We also have a caregiver who goes in once a week to refill her meds boxes and clean. She and I are in contact often as well. On the plus side, Mom and I are even closer than we've ever been and I've been able to see and talk to my brother more often, too.
My oldest son is married and has been in and out of the house a couple of times. When I became a grandmother the first time, we decided that it would be cheaper to rent a larger house for the five of us than two smaller places. Meanwhile, my younger son was finishing his college degree and couldn't afford to go out on his own just yet.
Today, we are a family of six with another one on the way. My younger son has had a hard time finding a job period, much less one with a Bachelor's degree in Psychology. He finally landed one with The Cheesecake Factory...washing dishes. His back lasted about a month in that job. He succumbed to the constant query by his fellow workers: "You have a bachelor's degree? Why are you here?!" and decided to go back on the quest for work.
And that brings us to the point of this blog. What you will read here will attempt to fill you in on what works for us, and what definitely doesn't. I know we are not the only family group living the way we are. We aren't the first and we surely won't be the last. Both of my sons are eager to be out on their own and I'm glad they feel that way. I didn't raise them to be Mama's Boys. But I will gladly keep them with me as long as they need me. There may well come a day when I need to be the one living with them because of whatever circumstances life throws at us.
My first piece of advice is straight out of the Bible: "And be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake has forgiven you." (Ephesians 4:32)
We may not always get it right, but at the end of the day, we still love each other and forgive as we have been forgiven. Each day is a clean slate, a new start. May your 2012 be filled with love, happiness, and forgiveness. Happy New Year world!
Sandwiches are that generation that is helping parents that might need a bit more than just a phone call every so often to check in. Sometimes Sandwiches actually live with their parents, or, more often, the parent(s) move in with their adult children. At times a caregiver is hired to help; and once in awhile, the parent(s) need to be placed in a care facility with caregiving offered at the level that is needed. What makes Sandwiches, well, sandwiches, is that they are also still raising their own children or have older children/young adults living at home. They are then "sandwiched" between two other generations.
Boomerangs are the generation that has left home at one time or another, sometimes for college, or because they are able to be on their own. Then something happens to shake up the once-secure foundation and they move back home. A job lay-off (or four), a nasty divorce complete with custody battle, a downturn in the economy, an unplanned pregnancy...You get the drift. Some Boomerangs leave the nest and bounce back in numerous times like a, well, boomerang and the parental front door takes on the atmosphere of a revolving door.
Babies are pretty self-explanatory. They come, usually after approximately 9 months and usually belonging to the Boomerangs. Sometimes, however, given the state of the economy and/or low-rung-on-the-totem-pole pay, day care is out of the question, so retired grandparents (Sandwiches) pitch in to help.
I am a Sandwich and was a Boomerang with Boomerangs of my own and grand"Babies" that I'm helping to take care of. I lived at home while I went to college. Thanks in part to two major surgeries and a change of degree program along with three school changes, I managed to cram a four year degree into seven years. My parents were great, never making me feel any less welcome during that long-drawn out time. I'm pretty sure I actually pulled far less than my weight in chores around the house because I was always so busy. Honestly, I don't know how I found the time to go to classes, I was so busy doing theatre, music, volunteering with Camp Fire, hanging out with my friends, supporting the sports teams of my school, and all those other things that are so essential (in a student's eyes, anyway) to a well-rounded education.
After graduation I taught for three years on the Apache Reservation. I loved the kids and the job, but felt really isolated and alone so far from home and my friends. When I moved back home, I moved back HOME. I was welcomed with open arms, even though in leaving my job, I left a paycheck, too. I was unable to find another full-time position at that time, so I substituted for three different school districts. It brought in enough to make my car and student loan payments, but not enough to be able to move out. Which turned out to be okay, because I got married at the end of that semester and finally gave my parents the empty nest they'd been kind enough not to point out they wanted.
Eight and a half years later, I boomeranged again, this time with my two little boys in tow. By this time I did have a full-time job with a decent paycheck, but my mother was worried that we wouldn't be safe in a place by ourselves. Two months later, Mom felt okay, but less than thrilled when we moved out into a little condo of our own. Two months after that, Mom took us home to stay with her after a long, scary bout with blood clots in my lungs. We stayed that time for five weeks before I felt strong enough to go to our own place. See what I mean by Boomerang?
I am a Sandwich, too. Last year my mother had a stroke that put her in the hospital and rehab. When she went home, I moved in with her. It was hard to see her that debilitated and was time for me to pick up the reins and be the parent for awhile. She is a walking, talking miracle and has no physical defect from the event, but I needed to be there for her during that time. Mom is once again living alone and I check in with her often. Her short term memory is fuzzy sometimes and I like to make sure she's taking the medicine that's keeping her blood pressure in control. We also have a caregiver who goes in once a week to refill her meds boxes and clean. She and I are in contact often as well. On the plus side, Mom and I are even closer than we've ever been and I've been able to see and talk to my brother more often, too.
My oldest son is married and has been in and out of the house a couple of times. When I became a grandmother the first time, we decided that it would be cheaper to rent a larger house for the five of us than two smaller places. Meanwhile, my younger son was finishing his college degree and couldn't afford to go out on his own just yet.
Today, we are a family of six with another one on the way. My younger son has had a hard time finding a job period, much less one with a Bachelor's degree in Psychology. He finally landed one with The Cheesecake Factory...washing dishes. His back lasted about a month in that job. He succumbed to the constant query by his fellow workers: "You have a bachelor's degree? Why are you here?!" and decided to go back on the quest for work.
And that brings us to the point of this blog. What you will read here will attempt to fill you in on what works for us, and what definitely doesn't. I know we are not the only family group living the way we are. We aren't the first and we surely won't be the last. Both of my sons are eager to be out on their own and I'm glad they feel that way. I didn't raise them to be Mama's Boys. But I will gladly keep them with me as long as they need me. There may well come a day when I need to be the one living with them because of whatever circumstances life throws at us.
My first piece of advice is straight out of the Bible: "And be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake has forgiven you." (Ephesians 4:32)
We may not always get it right, but at the end of the day, we still love each other and forgive as we have been forgiven. Each day is a clean slate, a new start. May your 2012 be filled with love, happiness, and forgiveness. Happy New Year world!
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