Do you remember your very first apartment? Do you remember how you felt when you first moved out of your parents’ home and into your own place? I do. I was so happy! I was excited to be able to start living my life. I was thrilled to have a place to call my own. It was so awesome to be able to clean my house when I wanted to clean it, wash dishes when I felt like it, do laundry on my schedule, etc. I could eat when I wanted, cook when I wanted and shop for the groceries I wanted to buy. I could arrange my furniture in my living room just the way I wanted to. I could decorate according to my tastes. I could do what I wanted, without consulting my mother or have her interfere. She still tried but it was my life now and I was happy to start living it!

That’s the feeling I want my daughter to experience. That’s how I want my son and his girlfriend to feel. I want that for them. The excitement, the thrill, the freedom.

For months now, I’ve had both children back home. My daughter and her son, now age 15 months, and my son, his girlfriend and their baby girl, who is now 10 months old…add to that my dad, 4 cats, 2 ferrets and an iguana, all under one roof. This house is very small and I’m not sure I’m going to make it! Don’t get me wrong. I love them all dearly. I will always worry about them no matter what.

They really do need a place of their own so they can live their own lives without me always being there to help them, clean up after them, guiding them. I need them to be independent. I need them to be free.

I need my life back! I need to feel excited about cleaning my house again. I need to feel free to do “my own thing” again. Is that selfish? It feels that way sometimes but then other times I feel like “Hey, I deserve to live my life now. I’ve been busy taking care of them for a long time. I feel like now it’s my turn.” Is that so wrong?