My Parents Moved In #1
One of the new blog series I want to write this year is “My Parents Moved In. Where Can I Put My Yarn?” It doesn’t really have much, if anything, to do with knitting except that I knit and work on knitting-related projects all the time, and that usually spreads out to take over most of the rooms in my house. I pile my papers and tools on the coffee table in the living room but when my mom’s here, that’s her private space and the home-base for her dog. I dye yarn in the kitchen, but with my parents here, that can be inconvenient (and possibly dangerous) for trying to cook meals. My knitting bags are spread all over the house, but with four people here, I need to keep the floors and furniture empty so no one trips and we have places to sit. You get the picture, I think. I wanted to start this series right after the holidays and tell funny stories about having my parents living here. Last summer, for example, when both of my parents were here at the same time for a month, my dad started complaining that my mom’s dog barks too much and my mom started complaining that my dad plays the TV too loud. I told Dom, “Now I know what it feels like to live in a house with teenagers.” I drew a comic page of that scene, but mom doesn’t want me to put pictures of her dog on the internet. So that’s going to be a big problem! How do I decide what’s too private to put on my blog? Can I complain about what my parents do that gets on my nerves without hurting their feelings? Will they (or their friends) even read my blog? Can I write about our medical issues and bathroom habits? What about what we eat and drink? I do have some funny stories to tell, and I’m sure I’ll have more as the year progresses. But to be honest, I’ve been pretty stressed out and feeling crabby. I don’t want my blog to be full of whining. It’s going to be a bigger adjustment than I first thought it would be. Dom and I had no kids, so we’re used to doing whatever we want, whenever we want. My mom has been living with us for part of the year for 6 or 7 years. Dad came for two month-long visits last summer. Sure, they’ve been divorced for 45 years, but they never hated each other. What could go wrong? So, should I start looking for a therapist now?