A Place For Mom

Recently my husband and I had started making preparations for my mother in law to have a place of her own. She has been living with us seen we moved into our house nearly ten years ago. The arrangement originally was one meant to be mutually beneficial. We helped her take of her mother and she helped us take care of our three children while I went back to school and back to work.

The years went by, as they often do, and the situation has changed. Her mother has since passed away and my children are now at an age where they don't need quite as much adult supervision as they once did. Not to mention that I now work out my home office. (Work being a loose term for unemployed writer.) So I am here to deal with any life threatening emergencies such as running out of milk, missing homework, unruly hair, unwashed band uniforms and forgotten lunches.

I went from feeling like I had to accept this intrusion in my life to feeling that the best thing for her was to be more independent. I felt like I was some sort of advocate. I thought the best thing for mom was to parent her from afar. We would be able to monitor her via phone calls and my husband has access to her bank account so we would know what she was spending her money on. The insurance company arranges transportation to all her doctor appointments and I already do all her shopping for her. See? I kept telling myself. Nothing would change. She would happy. I would be happy. All would be well.

And then it hit me.

One Sunday morning my husband and I were making a big family breakfast, as we often do. I knocked on my mother-in-law's bedroom door to give her a plate of eggs, bacon and toast, cooked just the way she liked them. I entered her room and she was still drowsy with sleep.

She looked as though she hadn't slept very well. Her white hair stood out at odd angles away from her face. She had bags under her eyes. She was groping around blindly for her glasses. I realized then how small and shrunken her body had become. My mother-in-law is a tall, broad shouldered woman but at that moment she looked so frail and tiny. Her skin hung off her arms and legs, wobbling as she moved. Her hand shook as she reached out for her plate of eggs. The only strong thing about her was her voice.

I can't leave her.

I went back to the kitchen and told my husband that I could do this. I could take care of her. Never mind all my fuss. I don't think he has ever been so shocked. He literally starting looking in the kitchen cabinets for the real me, like a was a pod person sent here to bend him to my will.

Well, now our plans have changed. We have outgrown our home. Instead of trying to find a new one this year for a family of five, we are re-budgeting for two more years for a family of six. With a little more tightening of the belts, a little more elbow grease and a lot of dedication, I think we just might make it.

The things we do for family.

Parenting Your Parents

It seems you spend half of your life learning how to become a parent from your own mom and dad. Then you spend the rest of your life being a parent to your own children. There is a relatively new term for what many people (myself included) are going through right now, though: "The Sandwich Generation". It's a phrase that basically means families that are taking care of their own kids as well as their aging parents.

Not that this is a new phenomenon. In fact, in many cultures around the world it is extremely common to take  in one's own parents and return the favor, as it were. I guess it is us stingy Americans that so greatly desire our freedom and space that we have taken to ignoring our elders or feeling secure enough in their safety to hide them away in the most expensive of retirement homes. Now I'm not saying that's what everyone does. There are situations where a child is incapable of caring for their parent and has no choice but to find a nursing home or assisted living facility for their loved one to be cared for properly. I'm talking strictly about us as a culture. We're not used to taking on this responsibility anymore. Somewhere along the way we lost touch with our past. We moved too far away from each other. Our economy got too bad. Whatever the reason, it is now unusual to care for our aging parents.

Sometimes caring for your parent becomes a lot like parenting your parent. Especially when there are health or financial concerns involved. As mothers, it is ingrained in us to try our best to be patient and kind and understanding. But are we capable of that when it comes to our own parents? Can we be patient when dealing with adults who should know better but may not anymore? The same adults who used to boss us around and ground us for the most inane things now need to be supervised and placed under our careful watch while at the same time juggling the responsibilities of our own children. How do we handle this?

With humor. And adult beverages.

I have recently made the decision to stay at home to pursue my writing career (no this isn't it) and be a better mom to our three kids. I realized recently I am also going to be playing house with my mother-in-law. She has lived with us for nearly eight long years but recently we have had to make some decisions that not every child has to make for their parent.

It's very strange to see a grown person make bad decisions. Things like what to eat, when to take your medicine and when to wake up apparently just aren't that important anymore. What's even more strange is having to tell a full grown adult that ice cream is not a good dinner choice. Especially when you're diabetic. And eating even lean red meat more than three times a week when you have high cholesterol may not be the best decision. I had a friend recently joke and tell me it sounds as if I turned into a dog. My hearing has become so acute that as soon as I hear someone in the kitchen I pop my head up over the couch to see what mom is getting into. Then I tattle on her to my husband hoping he'll take care of it because I hate the confrontation.

I did have to tell her recently that I will drive her wherever she wants but that I can't let her drive my car anymore. Last time she drove I think she forgot she was at a red light and took her foot off the brake and ever so slowly started gliding into an intersection until I told her to stop. She blames it cataracts, but last time I checked your eyes don't control your feet. Additionally I had to put my foot down about what kind of food I would let her buy at the grocery store. No junk food. She joked and said she would start stashing her goodies in her room, but I fear it's no joke. I haven't gotten to the point of secretly going through my kids belongings, but my MIL's stuff may no longer be sacred.

Another problem I think a lot of people have but don't discuss as often is the grandparent parenting your children. It's a sore spot of mine for many reasons. My kids are my MIL's whole world. And they adore her. As a mom, I have found it difficult not to parent other people's kids when they are unruly so I can understand the inclination to 'parent' but my kids are far from unruly. I have a different parenting style than my MIL. I tend to let my kids make mistakes and see what happens. She likes to prevent bad things from happening. I am pretty relaxed and she is a worry wart. I follow through with my threats and she doesn't. I like to leave spontaneously and she hates that.

I made the conscious decision years ago to let the kids have this time with their grandmother, even if it is at my expense at times. Yes, we get frustrated with each other. She prefers her own cooking to mine, doesn't always like our house guests or loud music, but she is family. I suppose that makes her part of the club (sandwich - get it?). So what if she likes to eat junk food and feed it to my kids behind my back. They're building a bond that the kids will always remember. And what's a few doctor appointments and grocery store trips? She loves me like a daughter and would do the same for me if she could.

Parenting your parents. I suppose it could be sweet revenge. Or it could just be a really great way for your children to learn compassion first hand from the best example they'll ever have. You.