Our household changed overnight, with our eldest son, Gabe, moving back home with his dog, Yoko, after living independently for seven years. So, I’ve adopted the mantle of Grand Poohbah, managing and finessing the transition and flexing my culinary muscles.
I must admit, I’m in my element. It’s profoundly rewarding to have all our children under one roof again, even if it’s temporary. David and I no longer need to perform day-to-day parenting, so our roles have relaxed, and our children’s understanding of us as people has altered from what they perceived when they were young.
I’m thankful that we have managed to create a family environment where our children feel comfortable coming back home to stay when they need to and accept that ‘boomerang kids’ are a part of life; as far as I see it, they always have been. It’s not a reflection of failure or a situation to be judged but more an exercise in acceptance and unconditional love. That, in itself, is a life lesson to be taught to our children by example.
It’s undoubtedly a busy household with the two of us, our three children, two cats and our son’s dog. We must be in tune with each other’s schedules, rosters, gym visits, and social events. Throughout this exhaustive calendar, I weave a rambunctious ‘cooked from scratch’ menu of nightly meals to eat together whilst sharing our daily news. I’m certainly keeping at least myself entertained by attempting to wow them with each new creation.
In my heart, there is a dull melancholy as I know deep down that this will probably be the final time we all share a space. We have a second chance to rewrite the last pages of living together as a family, creating memories they will hopefully savour and cherish long after we’re gone.
