Tough Love is Tough
Mom called on the 15th, the day that Nora got her shots, sobbing. She was leaving the doctor's office and they had just told her that she'd need lots and lots of money up front for the surgery. It seems that negotiating for a payment plan didn't go well, sending Mom in to a spiral. I listened sympathtically, murmmered in the right spots, but stayed neutral. When i didn't jump to solve anything she got off the phone.
This is the part of the story where I'm human and I fretted to Adam that I was concerned bout Mom and worried about her future. I make a point of telling you this because the resolution to this story paints me as a bit of a monster.
About thirty munutes later I get a text from Mom telling me to check my mail. How passive-aggressive is that? Mom had written asking if she could move back in so that she could have the surgery and get back on her feet.
I give Mom credit for being as straight-forward as she's capable in the letter. She had only the minimal guilt trip and the letter only went on for a page, instead of the usual three page ramble.
That being said, I had to tell her "no."
Hear me out:
When Mom left Adam and I were very clear that it was her last free ride, her last chance to live in our house. It was her third attempt to "get back on her feet" and, if you remember, we had given her a year to get herself ready to move out and she didn't. She's the one that rushed the move and, subsequently, put herself in the position that she's in. Not only did she rush the move, she immediately started living outside of her means, stretching herself thin on a daily basis.
Now, Adam and I have taken in pretty much every member of our extensive family. Mom, like I said, has been here three times. We've spent a total of ten months alone in our seven years of marriage. That's it. Eight of those months, by the way, were spent with babies in the house, so I don't know how "alone" we were. In the grand scheme of things we've paid our dues and I shouldn't feel guilty about telling Mom "no," but I do.
That's right, I told Mom she couldn't move back in. We had promised ourselves that we'd stop putting everyone else's needs before our own and we're determined to stick with it this time.
I haven't heard from Mom since then and I'm a little worried about the fallout, but I'm going to give it another week before I try and talk to her. I want to give her time to calm down. Or think of a new plan. Or whatever she's going to do.
This is the part of the story where I'm human and I fretted to Adam that I was concerned bout Mom and worried about her future. I make a point of telling you this because the resolution to this story paints me as a bit of a monster.
About thirty munutes later I get a text from Mom telling me to check my mail. How passive-aggressive is that? Mom had written asking if she could move back in so that she could have the surgery and get back on her feet.
I give Mom credit for being as straight-forward as she's capable in the letter. She had only the minimal guilt trip and the letter only went on for a page, instead of the usual three page ramble.
That being said, I had to tell her "no."
Hear me out:
When Mom left Adam and I were very clear that it was her last free ride, her last chance to live in our house. It was her third attempt to "get back on her feet" and, if you remember, we had given her a year to get herself ready to move out and she didn't. She's the one that rushed the move and, subsequently, put herself in the position that she's in. Not only did she rush the move, she immediately started living outside of her means, stretching herself thin on a daily basis.
Now, Adam and I have taken in pretty much every member of our extensive family. Mom, like I said, has been here three times. We've spent a total of ten months alone in our seven years of marriage. That's it. Eight of those months, by the way, were spent with babies in the house, so I don't know how "alone" we were. In the grand scheme of things we've paid our dues and I shouldn't feel guilty about telling Mom "no," but I do.
That's right, I told Mom she couldn't move back in. We had promised ourselves that we'd stop putting everyone else's needs before our own and we're determined to stick with it this time.
I haven't heard from Mom since then and I'm a little worried about the fallout, but I'm going to give it another week before I try and talk to her. I want to give her time to calm down. Or think of a new plan. Or whatever she's going to do.
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