So the big move is fast upon us. My parents are moving home. Finally. It's been a long time in coming. But I think everyone is ready. I know me and the girls are.
That's not to say that things aren't going to be different. Because they are. We've been living alone for many years now, as have Mom and Dad. We both have our own schedules and the way we do things. It's gonna be quite the upheaval at first, getting to know each other. Not to mention putting a house together. I predict moments of frustration, and other times of laughter, as we figure it all out. As long as everyone hangs in there, I think the outcome will be more rewarding than anything we could even imagine.
There's some speculation that once they move in, Mom and Dad will be raising my children. That they will be stuck being the parent, while I run around willy-nilly. So let me put THAT tall tale to rest. I am, and will be, raising my children. Just like I have been for the past eight years. I'm sort of insulted that anyone would think differently. That's not to say I don't have some expectations.
I expect Mom to challenge Trinity in checkers, and Dad to teach her how to properly set up a fish tank.
I expect Mom to help Madison with her reading, and Dad to teach her how to grow a sunflower.
I expect them both to be there for Lexi's first step.
I predict tantrums and door slamming on everyones part (including my own), but I also predict Friday Night Game Nights and family dinners. My mom is going to help me cook my first Thanksgiving feast and Dad is going to help me string the Christmas lights outside.
With all that being said, I'd rather travel a curvy, bumpy road with those I love than ride the straight and narrow all by myself.