Son is moving out. Got a house of his own. Missing my little grandbaby
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notsoemptynesters
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notsoemptynesters
Find out what it means to me. And that is the real problem. Respect means different things to different family members. But if you don’t want your house to turn into a ” Get ready to rumble” wrestling match then you better figure this one out.
Respect itself is a little hard to define. But it’s much easier to describe what not having respect looks like. I suggest you have each family member write down at least three examples that they considered disrespectful. Not specific details like exact objects, or names of the offender. Type all of them out in random order and call a family meeting. Read one at a time and discuss. This can be a very enlightening project, and though it may not solve all of your problems it should make everyone think a little bit more about their actions.
Here’s what my list would look like: (I added specific details for effect)
- TAKING MY HOOKS (see post titled “Resistance is futile)
- Using my space for your stuff (like just about every inch of the house since it all belongs to me anyway)
- Talking during my favorite TV show (Legend of the Seeker, or Bones, or Glee)
- Giving your purse, or laptop its own personal seat on the couch
- Leaving your shoes in the hallway causing me to trip after being told a million times to put them away
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notsoemptynesters
One day my daughter was finishing up some work in her closet. The task required hooks. She decided that I really didn’t need the set of hooks in my hallway, and tried to convince me of the same. But that was not as easy as she thought.
Don’t get me wrong, persuasion is definitely one of her strong points and she had a good argument. My husband had made the hooks home to his collection of hardly ever worn sweaters and jackets. It was definitely an eyesore, and somewhat of an obstacle for passerbyers. (Is that a word?) But what she didn’t realize was that one of those hooks belonged to me. And I wasn’t going down without a fight.
I don’t ask for much, really I don’t, just one little hook to hang my coat and purse. To her not a big deal, but to me it was so much more. It was an important part of my routine-a little touch of sanity in a world of progressive amnesia. I always, well almost always, knew where I could find at least two important items in my life. Who did she think she was messing with my peace of mind?
I felt a little like Jean Luke Picard in the Enterprise when faced with the Borg, an enemy that had invaded and assimilated much of his ship. He drew an imaginary line and stated “Here, and no further.” But alas, she was a formidable enemy. And unlike Picard I did not have the strength or determination to win this battle on my own. But like so many times before, my husband came to the rescue.
In the end, she got her hooks. My husband got rid of some of his collection, and found another place for the rest. He bought me new hooks for the hallway. But my youngest is now using the extra hooks and it seems crowded as ever. Oh well, at least I have my hook. Another lost battle, but I still have hope for the war….
