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Stay at Home Daughter
I’ve been simmering on this post for a while. The more I adjust to my new life in the desert with my parents, the more I love it here. My depression has lifted (completely!), and I wake up every day excited about whatever I’m going to do that day. Yes, of course, I worry about politics, the state of the world, and my money problems, but outside of that, I am happy in my quiet little life. I don’t wake up in a panic anymore. That is a huge deal! I’m sad that I let myself wake up full of fear and stress every morning for two years straight. How did I let it get that bad? I didn’t think I had a choice then, but maybe I did. If I had known what I know now, I should have moved in with my parents earlier but I had Bug to support and worry about so everything happened the way it did for a reason.
Now, my mornings are full of beauty and thankfulness. Everywhere I look, I see pretty things to take pictures of. I hear birds chirping and I see lizards darting here and there. I have all kinds of baby plants that need my attention. Sometimes, I even forget to look at my phone in the morning. Isn’t that crazy? Maybe that’s why some bloggers and Instagrammers that we love have disappeared. Maybe they just stopped looking at their phones first thing. But I’m not here to preach about phone use. That is a tired argument that I can easily debate both ways. I embrace technology. I need my bionic brain.
I wake up for nature now. How crazy is that? I wake up to see what kind of sunrise it will be. I’m addicted to sunrises as if they were a tv show I wanted to catch. I know, night people are probably rolling their eyes but this is how morning people work. If I wasn’t so busy cooking dinner in the evening, I’d probably feel the same way about sunsets. I’d love to sit with a glass of wine every evening and tune in for a sunset but the way the mountains are situated here, we are in shadow before we get to see any pretty colors. Maybe I can fine tune my routine to catch the sunsets but so far I haven’t managed that.
Something else big has shifted in my mind. It is my shame about not working full time. YES, I would love to have a full-time income. Believe me, it would solve so many problems. But now that I need to be home to take care of my mom and be available to travel when they travel (the latest HOA complication) I can’t even get a day job if I found one. I can only have odd jobs that allow me to be flexible. So in a way you could say I’m semi-retired. Doesn’t that have such a better ring than unemployed? It’s just a change of phrase but it’s a massive shift in the way I think of myself. I’m not a failure. I’m a success! It’s a dream to live the slow life at fifty-two!
I don’t have to feel guilty about gardening or sewing or organizing my parents mountains of stuff. I love this stay-at-home lifestyle. I’m not a stay-at-home mom anymore. I’m a stay-at-home daughter!
When I was a new mom I fought against the homemaker lifestyle. I wanted to stay competitive with my peers and I was terribly jealous when my friends landed prestigious jobs while I was playing with a toddler and bored out of my skull. BUT I did get to rock my daughter to sleep every night. I played with her every day and we did crafts together. I went on walks to the beach every single day. I traveled and blogged it all. I wasn’t winning awards or contributing to a hefty 401K but I was illustrating children’s books and fostering a healthy blog readership. The days were long but the years were short and I would do them all over again if I could.
So here I am again. This time I’m not fighting it so hard. I’m going to treasure every day with my parents. I am so lucky that I get to spend time with them when they are happy and healthy. I know these days are numbered.
I’m going to keep track of the days here for as long as I can afford to. I thought I’d take this blog down but the parallels to my old mom-blogging self are too similar. Maybe elder-care-blogging will become a thing. Whatever it is I’m going to keep track of it. This is all I’m really good at it seems. For now anyway.
I did get to see Matt for Valentine’s Day. My car is out of commission (it needs a new transmission) so I took the train into Orange County and we had a nice weekend together.
He took me out to all my favorite restaurants. We ate all the steaks and drank all the drinks and walked all the walks. It was really nice.
Then I spent the rest of Sunday cleaning for my old neighbor and then I caught the last train back home. It’s not the most efficient way to travel but it was an adventure.
I am really sad about my car. I’ve had her since Bug was six months old. She was the best car. So much fun to drive and so reliable! (Until now.) I always thought I’d give her to Bug when Bug learned to drive, but unfortunately, she’s not safe to drive. My dad won’t even let me drive her out of the driveway. She’s not worth much, which is sad because she’s such a pretty car. I’m trying to find a mechanic who’s looking for a project. Surely, somebody out there sees what I see in her.
Having no car secures my “retirement” status even more. I’m literally stuck here. I might as well live it up. I attended a “potato bake” last week at the HOA clubhouse and won an IHOP gift certificate for drawing the best Mrs. Potato head. This is the life, what can I say! I took Bug out to breakfast for dinner on the one day I borrow my dad’s truck so I can drive into Irvine to help my old neighbor.
I spend the rest of the time admiring the sunrises and sunsets and walking with my dad.
It’s not so bad. It’s the cure for depression!
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Texas Bound
The beauty of my new lifestyle is that I have so much more time! When Bug moved out, I found myself with hours of free time. I didn’t have to pick her up from work, take her to school, or drive all over the OC for all her various errands. I thought that was great. I missed her, but I loved my newfound freedom. Then, I moved to the Sticks and had to quit my part-time job. My freelance jobs trickled down to odd jobs here and there, and then I had even more time. I clean houses and help my parents, but I can make my schedule. It’s almost like being retired. Retired without an income. You know how it goes: you either have time or money but never both simultaneously.
This wealth of time has become especially relevant with my latest predicament with my parents’ HOA and my dog, Cody. A little backstory for anyone who isn’t tuned into my Instagram feed: My parents and I have been balls of anxiety about what to do with Cody since I moved in with them in January. My Dad had written a letter to the board in November asking if I could be allowed to live in their (55+) retirement community as a caregiver for my mother. We’d heard lots of individual opinions about Cody being accepted as an emotional support animal from various board members but hadn’t gotten an official ruling.
Since I had no money to pay my rent, I was forced to couch surf or move in with my parents. I put half of my stuff in a friend’s storage unit and stayed as a guest with my parents until we heard whether I’d be allowed to move in. It was weeks of not knowing. Finally, we heard there was a ruling, but my thirty days as a guest were running out. I had one more day and no letter of a decision. It was nerve-wracking.
So I decided to take matters into my own hands and walked across the street to the secretary of the board’s house to ask her myself. At this point, I felt that any news would be better than no news. I couldn’t handle the suspense anymore.
The secretary was very nice and told me that the good news was that I was approved to stay as a caregiver. The bad news was that caregivers didn’t have the same rights as residents, and the emotional support animal rule did not apply. I was defeated. I had a lot of evil thoughts about what to do about this seemingly ridiculous rule, but my parents have been in violation of their HOA rules for having too many pets since the day they moved in. I didn’t feel like I was in a position to fight a fight that would put my parents at risk. So sad, too bad.
I took all my pent-up emotion and decided to channel it into an epic road trip with just Cody and me to Texas to visit my brother and take him up on his offer to rehome Cody until I could reclaim him. I do love a good road trip, and there is no better way to work through your dark feelings than lots of alone time on the road. I booked a super cute hotel in Tuscon and set out immediately.
I am a sucker for cute hotels. I would be a happy camper if I could travel full-time, take pictures, and have adventures. Cody and I had the best time. He is an ideal travel companion. He keeps me safe. He doesn’t say much, and he’s perfectly content to ride quietly in the back for hours and hours. He loves rest areas and taking walks to stretch his legs. He loves to go wherever I go and follows me quickly without a leash. I adore him.
The long drive with Cody only cemented how much I love him and what a great dog he is. It didn’t make it easier to accept that I would be leaving him soon. It breaks my heart to think about him missing me. We are each other’s emotional support companions. He’s seen me through so many dark times. And because I’ve spent so much one-on-one time with him, he distresses easily when he’s not near me. This is a tricky thing. I know he will be loved and well cared for by my brother and his wife. My brother’s wife has already bought him special high-protein dog food and a big fluffy bed and promised to take him to the vet (which I can’t afford right now). But Cody will have to learn how to be a dog again. He’s going to be part of a pack of dogs now. He still gets to be an inside dog and get lots of attention, but my brother and his wife are not me. I’ve spoiled him rotten.
I’m staying for the week to help with the transition process. This is mainly for me so that I can be okay. I need to know that he’s going to be OK. I will worry myself sick thinking up scenarios where he’s neglected or left alone, left in the weather, or picked on by the other dogs.
So far, he’s doing great. He loves the other dogs, and I see a playful side of him that is usually reserved for me and his rope toy. I think he will bond with his new family (which includes Momo!). He’ll mope, I’m sure, and miss all the treats I give him that I’m not supposed to, but he will be cared for. He’s going to the vet to get his tumors looked at, which I’ve been worrying about but haven’t been able to afford to get looked at yet.
It’s going to be okay. I plan to visit him in April, and I’m daydreaming about taking him on an even longer road trip this summer if I can pull it off.
Just you and me, Codes. Just you and me.
