Atomictumor

A little while back I wrote about Grandma Waffle coming to live with us. Initially, the idea was for her to make a couple of trips from Florida, bring up all her belongings, and officially move in with us. Seems pretty straightforward, right?

It makes me think of the parts in Meet the Robinsons where various characters say “I’m just not sure how well this plan was thought through.”

Nothing dramatic, just the simple fact that our house isn’t big enough for 7 people. Waffle, who is used to living quietly by herself, was suddenly thrust into the chaotic goings-on of our 4-kid household. Quiet doesn’t exist here. Neither does privacy. So when Waffle came into enough money to keep her utilities on at her apartment in Florida, she went back. Her lease is up at the end of February…maybe she’ll come back, maybe not. I’ve learned with my mom to expect the unexpected. She craves change, doesn’t mind taking risks, and can’t stay in any one place for very long.

I tend to be much more cautious. I look for the expected, the definite, the factual. I like stability. I don’t mind staying in one place, if that place feels safe to me. Perhaps these are some of the reasons why I am struggling with buying a new house.

Bos and I started looking at houses shortly after we invited Waffle to come live with us. Right off the bat, we found one that we really liked, affectionately called the White House. It’s big enough for all 7 of us, has been recently updated, and is in our price range. It’s not perfect, of course. I’m not wild about the neighborhood, and there are some big unknowns about utility costs. We haven’t really look at any other houses (because there aren’t many decent 4+ bedroom homes that we can afford).

We hemmed and hawed and talked to our agent, friends and family and eventually decided that the time was right to put an offer on the house. So we did. And when the counter offer came back, it wasn’t what I expected. The thing is, the counter offer was reasonable, or at the least could have been made reasonable with a little more negotiating. But I got spooked. I got overwhelmed. I started thinking of all the things that would have to fall into place, and all of the risks we would have to take. Trying to sell Cemestos Gardens over the holidays. Ack. And so I retreated, and we didn’t accept the counter offer.

Which leads us to now. Waffle is gone. Don’t know if she’ll be back. White House is still on the market. We still like it. My head is still spinning from all the changes I was anticipating that didn’t happen. I’m grumpy and not feeling the Christmas cheer. Which makes me even more grumpy, because damn it, I love me some Christmas cheer.

Grumble.

Feel like I ought to reintroduce myself here, since it’s been so long since I’ve posted something. So, Hi. I’m Bos. I fuss at kids.

We went to the Oak Ridge Christmas parade this morning. These two kids came along about half way through the long, long parade and planted themselves right in front of us. I don’t know what beauty queen, tractor or politician was waving by but I got tired of them snarking up all the good candy and leaving the old busted up mints and sweet tart chalk pills for my two. It just wasn’t right. There was plenty of road for all of us since the horses hadn’t come along yet and pooped all over the road. It was fun driving along after the parade and hitting as many of the olive green piles as we could.

So I told the two grabbers to move on. They just looked at me and I told them again to get out of my kids way. They moved. Later I got the feeling that the folks fussing across the street were directing their angry mind powers at me. So I stared back at them. Merry Christmas I said to the folks throwing candy at us (some of them have good aim…)

I could have handled that better.

(While I’m making a conscious effort to avoid writing all this happy-sappy crap, because one day I’ll want to read this and I’ll be all like “you sappy jackass, hell with your budding marriage and happy life, I want you to write about topical boring things, like that Radiohead/Family Guy video”, I’m breaking my rule for this post.  And, really, whatever subsequent posts come up.  Cuz screw future me, thats why.  Cantankerous bastard.)

Despite me and the lady both being sick all week this week, this has been one of my best weeks ever.

My reasoning is, because all week its felt like a family.  A whole family.  Waking up, eating meals, watching TV, cleaning, going to bed, all that kinda stuff.

And thats really, really, really damn cool.

(there.  I’m done)

Lordy, no! We’re not pregnant again. My Mom is coming home.

Four or five years ago, my Mom (Grandma Waffle) moved to Florida to pursue a relationship with an inmate, Larry, whom she had met through a pen-pal program. He was (is) serving a life sentence for first degree murder; there was a lot of hope in the beginning that he would be released either on parole, or through a new trial that presented evidence of his innocence. Waffle bought a house in Deland, FL, close to where Larry was incarcerated. After a couple years, and a lot of fighting with the prison system, Waffle and Larry got married.

I have struggled with this. I have no opinion on Larry’s guilt or innocence, but I have never been able to really trust him. I have brought my concerns to Waffle, and she gently reminds me that she is an adult, fully knows the risks involved, that she very much loves Larry and very much feels loved by Larry. This has been a lesson in letting go for me; because in the end all I can do is love her and trust her and….let go.

Anyway, back to the story. At some point, Larry was moved to a different prison over 5 hours away from Waffle, and then again to a prison near Miami. Waffle sold her house and moved to an apartment in Miami; but after only a short time there, Larry had his visitation rights taken away for 2 years. A few months later, he was moved to yet another prison, again, 5 hours from where Waffle lived. Waffle remained in Miami until her lease was up, and then moved to Jacksonville, where she is today.

I’m not going to go into details, but the situation has deteriorated. There are allegations of prison abuse, corruption, conspiracy. Waffle fears that Larry has been abused to his breaking point, and she feels that she has done all she can possibly do to fight the system. She is heartbroken and on the verge of bankruptcy.

So Waffle, with her two dogs, are coming to stay with us.

I am happy and relieved that she is coming home, although I certainly wish it were under better circumstances. We’ve all missed her, and I think that it will help all of us to be around family.

As happy as I am to have her stay with us, there are some practical considerations that have been on my mind. Such as, how do we fit another person and two dogs into our little house that’s already bursting at the seams? It can be done, of course, but last night my mind started wandering and it struck me that maybe we should start seriously looking for a new house. And then it struck me that perhaps that initial thought is a coping mechanism - trying to deal with this period of impending change.  Hmmmm…regardless, I think I’ll be contacting our friendly neighborhood real estate agent for some advice.

***

The fact that my Mom is going through this very difficult time at this time of year is not lost on me. It makes me think about the changes that came last year, all the pain and suffering and grief. And the Beauty that underlies it all. It gives me hope. I hope that Waffle can see that, too.

So, sometimes I create my own problems…