Eastbayri.com

It was a dark and stormy night.

No, really, it was. For the third time in a year and a half I was on an 800 mile road trip. My daughter and her fiance moved to South Carolina so that he could attend America’s School of Golf. Mission accomplished, (he made honors; he had no choice because I threatened him that he better do well for taking my daughter so far away from me). I flew in for the graduation then after a quick celebratory lunch, we began loading the rented moving truck. They had enough of Myrtle Beach – nice place to visit but you don’t want to live there. We were determined to drive straight through. My daughter and I drove their car while he and his mom drove in the truck.

I was glad to have time with my daughter after such a long separation. Nineteen hours, however, in a car with no heat (they didn’t need to fix that problem while down South) , was an adventure. After the first cold and rainy five hours all social etiquette ceased to exist. I’m sure many of you have at least once driven South and understand roadtrips. Before we left we stocked up on survival staples. Red Bull, candy, chips.

We have social skills and would never eat Queso Cheese dip out of a jar at home, but these were drastic times. We would also never throw empty drink cans and wrappers on the floor of our car but, again … Burping normally requires an “excuse me” as do other bodily functions, but like I said roadtrips carry no rules.

We gossiped in the safety of our car about everyone we knew and made life plans and bucket lists. Overall it wasn’t so bad.

Until they get on their feet they will live with me. I am often accused of being crazy that I like having all my kids at home. My middle son will be leaving for the Army in May, but for now he and his wife and toddler also live with me. My youngest son, he’s 19, is my other bunk mate.

Add the two dogs and my wish of having a full house is complete.

I am not alone with adult children coming home or not leaving. Our economy and unemployment rate causes many families to live in boarding house capacity. I have many friends who have also had to open the doors to grown children, some begrudgingly. It can be stressful, especially with one bathroom. I feel I may have to enforce rules that were established when they were young. We must share, we must pick up our toys when we are done; the balls and Legos are now replaced with video games, iPods and wine glasses, but they need to be tended to. We must use our “indoor” voices and “use words” when angry. Just like the good old days.

It may be more difficult to put an adult in time out but I will find a way. I only hope that the old cliché “be careful what you wish for” does not turn into a negative thing for me. I bet there is a support group for households like mine. If not, I may start one … right after I put the No Vacancy sign on my lawn.