I've had my mom and dad here for the past five days. I'm not going to lie, before they got here, I made Husband clean up all of his clothes and I cleaned the entire house. It's was like I wanted them to see that I am now a bona fide married adult who can actually act like one (and yes, it is a farce, but they don't have to know that).
They left this morning and I am currently sitting on the couch bawling like a baby. I have no idea why I cry EVERYTIME my parents leave me or I leave them. I'm almost 30 years old and I still want to cling onto them and ask them to stay with me as if I'm still only two years old. After watching Oprah, I'm more than sure there is something abnormal about that (I'm going to have to stop watching Oprah altogether because the things she says often makes me think that I am more than strange).
It was great to have them here, though. Dad does have a SMALL problem with not being able to relax EVER. There is no way he could ever live in the city. Saturday morning he was roaming around our apartment looking for something - ANYTHING- to do. It just so happens that our next door neighbors were moving so dad lent a hand as he is an expert in the packing of trucks. It's a good thing we were there, too, because it seems that the family members of the next door neighbor's were there purely in a supervisory role. Just what any physical labor job needs - seven supervisors and three people actually working.
Mom and I spent hours talking. I love that my mom will sit and listen to whatever I have to say and never tell me that I should do this or do that to fix it - she just listens and inputs when necessary. It makes such a differnce when you are able to speak in person rather than on the phone.
It was nice being able to unload an entire year of frustration, anxiety, and uncertainty which included talking about my job, church, my book, my mother-in-law, money, exercise, etc. There is no subject that was not covered. Husband also stayed home most of the time so it could be a "girls day" three days in a row, which included a pedicure that I had to talk my mom into getting and a little shopping.
When we weren't talking or helping other people move, I think that we successfully promoted an addiction to the Wii. Mom and dad bowled several games (which mom loved because she actually won) but then had to abstain the next day because my mom's hip was so sore she could barely walk. Yes. I understand Wii soreness injuries.
Now that they're gone, it's back to the daily grind and that doesn't thrill me in the slightest.
5 comments:
Erin, don't worry. I, too, am addicted to my parents. Every time we visit them, on the way home, I talk Kyle's ear off about how great they are. "Kyle, did you hear when my Dad said he was proud of me? He's so great." "Did you hear that funny joke my mom told? She' so hilarious..." On and On and On.
Maybe that's why both of us had maiden-name separation anxiety...
Is it youngest child syndrome? I mean, I'm not the youngest but I sure act like it.
I might be the youngest child in age but definitely I'm the oldest (or next to the oldest) in spirit.
Do they have a medical code for Wii injuries? I hated the ICD-9 book so much so that whenever we had to put a diagnosis code on paperwork for one of our patients, I always talked the medical billing person into doing it for me. I love medical people!
I didn't see a Wii code yesterday, but I'm sure that there will be a whole category of them coming down the tubes sooner or later. Although, I have just now found a code for someone who has been struck by an aircraft IN THE AIR where there was no injury to the aircraft or the people in the aircraft (there is a different code if there is damage to the aircraft). Can I just ask what the hell they were doing that far up in the air?
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