6th March
It seems only right to put my thoughts in writing this evening, just to try and make some sense of the last few weeks. My son, Edward, and his wife, Sophie, moved in with me not too long ago, and now they seem to have grown rather fed up with how I run my home.
My housemy rules!
Ever since they set foot through my door, Ive been accused of lecturing them. But honestly, Ive made it clear from the beginning: its my house, so you play by my rules. If that doesnt suit them, well, Im not forcing them to stay.
Edward married two years ago, rather young at just twenty. I thought it was rather hasty to rush off to the register office at that age, but nobody listened to me, of course. Edward decided he was ready to start a family and thats just what he did. Before they got married, I signed over my late mothers flat to him. The place wasnt much, mind you, but it was somewhere to start.
They managed in that flat for a year before deciding to buy a new place from a developer. Edward sold the flat, and Sophies family chipped in a bit too. My mother-in-law tried to pressure me, saying The children need help! But hadnt I already done enough by giving that flat? I could just as easily have kept it and let it out for some extra pounds.
I dont trust all this business of shared ownershipalways feels a bit dodgy to me. And I dont get why people put money down on a place that isnt even built yet. But thats the way its done nowadays, I suppose. They handed over their money, the new place was rented out, and things seemed fine for a while.
Then Sophie lost her job, and it all started to unravel. Their finances tightened, and next thing I know, theyre asking if they can move in with me. I knew straight away it wouldnt end well. Im very aware Im not the easiest person to live with, and Edward knows that too. But if hes asking to stay, hes accepting the way I do things. For reasons unknown, Sophie didnt want to live with her own mumheaven knows what the problem is there.
Right from day one, I made it clear that there are certain ways I like things done in my house. For example, I go up to bed at ten each night, no later. I need peace and quiet then; Im a light sleeper, and once woken, Ill never nod off again. I keep the radio on quietly in the background during the daysimple pleasures, but thats what I like. They nodded along and we got on with living together.
The first month passed without any major complaints. If they did anything that niggled me, Id point it out, theyd adjust, and wed carry on. But by the second month, things started to shift. They seemed to grow bolder, Sophie got a bit sharp with her words, Edward started sighing and huffing.
Mum, please dont get cross, all right? Whats so terrible about having even just one day without the radio? You dont actually listen to it, you just leave it on. Ive got a headache after work.
Why dry the plates? Theyll air dry anyway! Seems like such a waste of time when we could be doing something else.
Mum, must you start cleaning first thing on a Saturday? Were still asleep, for goodness sake! Its barely ten in the morning and youre bustling round with the polish!
These sorts of conversations happened more and more. Eventually, Id had enough and told them to pack their things.
Youre just going to throw us out onto the street for not following your silly rules? Edward asked, barely looking at me.
Theyre not silly rules, Edward. Theyre simply the rules of my own home, which youmy guestsare expected to respect. Why should I be uncomfortable in my own house?
You could change them, you know. Its not like were imposing for free. Were just going through a rough patch.
People who are struggling should be grateful for any help and not demand rights. I said from the beginningmy house, my rules.
Youve done everything you can to push us out. Fine. I get it. Thank you, Mum, youve helped, and I wont trouble you again, Edward replied, looking wounded as he started packing up his things. Sophie followed suit.
They left, and I honestly dont regret my decision. They asked for my help and I never made any unreasonable demandsjust that they respect my routines and the way I keep my home. Maybe they felt out of place under my roof, but Id have felt just as ill at ease if Id bent over backwards to accommodate them. I simply want to be comfortable in my own space. When theyve got their own house, theyre welcome to decide how things are done.
