Respect

For someone of my age, it is impossible not to think of Aretha Franklin when the topic comes around to "respect." While Aretha was addressing the respect a woman wants from a man, my thoughts are along the lines of the mutual consideration needed to successfully combine two households as we did two years ago.

For me, respect becomes an issue when absent. A lack of respect in the household where a "boomerang child" lives shows up in small but significant ways. The clothes left in the dryer for three days would seem to indicate a total disregard for anyone else needing to do laundry. Failure to empty clean dishes from the dishwasher except on the rarest of occasions seems thoughtless, if not disrespectful. And failure to place dirty dishes into the dishwasher, despite the sign on the door indicating that the dishes are "clean" or "dirty" for anyone caring enough to read it, is a slightly greater offense because it happens so frequently and is only discovered after the boomerang child has left the scene of the crime and, for that matter, the house for the day.

Granted, these are not earth-shattering transgressions, but like the slow dripping of water that erodes the stone beneath, they eventually wear away the feeling that I am being respected, not just as a parent, but also as a woman.

Aretha Franklin would never have put up with this.

Mother or Landlord?

The thought of charging rent didn't occur to us when our son first moved back home simply because we knew Matt had no money. We were the ones, after all, who were giving him money for gasoline and incidental expenses. We were the ones helping him clean up his apartment so that he could get his security deposit back. And when he finally found a job, it was only part-time and minimum wage, so it seemed pretty heartless at the time to start charging him rent.

One of the articles I've read about "boomerang kids" suggested charging rent when a son or daughter returns home, putting that money into a savings account, and then giving the money back to them when they move out. I like that idea and wish I had done that. But I didn't, and now it would be awkward. Lesson learned.

I've also self-justified not charging him because I don't think it really costs that much for him to stay here. A little extra electricity maybe and a little more water for showers and laundry and that's about it. And when it comes to food, he really doesn't eat that much at home. He became a fast-food junky when he lived on his own, and continued, to my dismay, to eat out more often than I think is healthy or economical.

Let's face it. I'm his mother first and foremost and the thought of becoming his landlord isn't a comfortable role. Okay, I'll say it. Asking for money from your own child just seems cold.

But, out of the blue, just when I thought there was no hope of change, Matt landed a part-time computer support job--one that pays better than the food service job and will look a lot better on a resume. Could this be the right time to start charging him rent? Something to ponder.

How It All Happened

I never asked for this. But neither did my son.

Matt attended four years of college after high school, but didn't graduate because he never really zeroed in on a major that he liked enough to finish. So he decided on his own to quit school to keep from wasting any more time or money. He moved back to this area so that he could be near friends, and landed a great job that lasted for nearly eight years.  Eight terrific years--until his job was "eliminated" by the company that he worked for. That was two years ago.

For the first few weeks after he lost his job, Matt understandably didn't want to tell his father or me.  Of course, not telling us only made things worse as he drained his savings to try to stay on top of his bills. Eventually he had to ask us for money and for help moving out of his apartment.

Sure, he applied for other jobs. But that was just about the time the economy was starting to fall off and I'll probably never know how many jobs he applied for and didn't get. I do know that having eight years of work experience made him "over qualified" for some entry-level jobs. At least he was trying to get another job, but so were a lot of other people.

So without a job or a place to live, I felt like I had to come up with a new identity for him--something other than "unemployed." I proposed that he move back home and enroll at the local university to finish his degree. Going back to school appealed to him because he had always been a very successful student. And more than anything, he needed to feel good about himself again.

Now, after two years of sharing our home with the younger of our two sons, I feel qualified to write about some of the problems that we've faced along the way and some of the unexpected rewards.

I promise you this: I'm not going to tell you that there are any easy answers when your child "boomerangs" back home. Putting two households together under one roof just isn't that simple. I have to admit that I've made mistakes, especially in the beginning when I was probably pretty angry that my well-organized, predictable life had been turned upside down. If nothing else, I am learning to be more tolerant. But that's only been in more recent months. The truth is that the three of us, my husband and I and Matt, have had our "moments." More in a few days.