Boomerang generation...who me?

"Humor is... despair refusing to take itself seriously." ~Arland Ussher

Oh yes, 2011 was quite a kick in the pants. I think Life tends to throw you a few curve balls whenever it sees you getting too cocky. And apparently I was getting a little cocky because I've had more curve balls the last couple years than a major league baseball game. But this blog is not a woe-is-me entry....because I have my health and my kids' health and ultimately that makes me wealthier than a lot of people.
But after the divorce last year I found myself in a really bad financial spot. My parents were wonderful enough to step forward and offer a solution:
"Why don't you move back in with us for awhile?  You know, until you get back on your feet again."
At first, I vehemently opposed it. "What?! I'm 41 years old. I have a full time job. I should be able to figure this out myself."
My dad told me to just think about it. Then a few days later he casually mentioned, "You know, I'm sure if you chipped in for groceries your mother would make a lot of the meals."
My ears perked up. Now that sounded like a possibility.
So right around Thanksgiving I packed up my belongings, my four kids and my dog....and moved back into my childhood home.
My dad had spent weeks getting their house ready. He made the downstairs a regular little girls dormitory, with bunk beds and storage and reading lights. At first I told him not to bother. "Dad, they can have my old room. I'll just sleep on the couch."
"Oh no," he said, shaking his head. "You need your own place that's just yours."
I smiled and couldn't resist asking, "Well....what if I meet someone and want to have a sleepover date?"
He replied calmly, "Your mother and I are hoping that you would have a sleepover at his house."
"But Dad....what if I meet someone and he lives with HIS parents?"
I swear I saw my father's shoulders slump. He just gave me a look that I interpreted as, "Aim higher. Please."
At first I was embarrassed to tell people I moved back in with my parents. I felt like I had failed somehow at one of life's basic tasks. Amazingly though... my friends and co-workers have been incredibly supportive. "There's something to be said about multi-generational living," more than one person told me.
And it's true. In addition to being able to breathe a financial sigh of relief for the first time since I can remember, I'm getting to know my parents again on a whole different, adult level.
My parents do not even have basic cable, so my nightly television viewing choices no longer include "Real Housewives of New Jersey," "Intervention," or anything else on A&E.
Let's just say I've been watching a lot of "Antiques Roadshow" and "Cash Cab."
Last week my dad changed my oil, and unbeknownst to me, filled up my gas tank too.
"Hey Dad, thanks for filling up my tank. You know," I teased. "You keep this up and I'm never going to leave."
"See," he told me. "That's why I fill it up. So you will leave. But you just keep coming back."
My dad is such a kidder.
I think.
So I'm going to make the most of this time given to me. Financially I'm going to get back on my feet and build up a little nest egg so I feel more secure when I eventually do move back out. Hopefully this is sooner rather than later.
I've been enjoying it more than I thought. My mom and I have been having a great time. We both love good movies, chips and Tylenol PM.
And yes, I have discovered ways to find a lot of humor in this unexpected situation. I was dating a guy, just briefly for a few weeks, when I decided to end it. I sent him a text basically saying we wanted different things, but I thought he was wonderful and wished him the best, etc.
He responded back with a curt: "Fine, whatever....BYE."
Then he sent another angry response within a few seconds: "Well, you still live with your PARENTS!"
I couldn't help but throw back my head and laugh.
Why yes, yes I do.