on breaking the internet and setting boundaries

I took the weekend off from parent minding and went with a friend to visit my sister in Las Vegas.  On our extraordinarily long drive, thank you SoCal traffic!, we traded war wounds.  We are both adult children living with our parents.  He does not have as his purpose trying to maneuver his mom into a different lifestyle as I do.  But, apparently, that does not give one immunity to crazy shenanigans.

After I told him about being given the night off from making dinner -- though not invited out with my parents -- he said to me, "Well at least you didn't break the internet!"

We both can do much of our work from home - a concept that is foreign to our parents.  This seems to be the cause of much angst -- on his side, his mother worries that he is taxing the internet by using it too much.  Good thing she doesn't know how much I stream through my lil computer.

Recently, his mom had been dusting and inadvertently knocked the cord connecting the modem either to the cable/dsl or the power cord.  Consequently, she figured that it was my friend's use of the internet that had caused it to stop working.  She went to him and said, "You broke the internet!"

He investigated and found the cord unplugged.

She was unconvinced that she had been at fault.

In my case, I would have gotten a phone call about the internet being broken -- usually when I am over 1000 miles from home.  So, finding the unplugged cord would have taken more work than just looking at the modem.

In fact, almost every evening, I have to convince my mom that she can open her fb account to see the photos my brother has posted.  We walk through the steps; she insists that she did just these steps; and then it works! Voila! All I have to do is stand next to her and the internet works!

The therapist and I are working on the boundaries -- but, let's be honest. I am really the one that has to do the work.  I know what to do, but often, I fail. 

I put all the other needs, which appear to be piling by the millions, in front of mine.  And at the end of the night, my work is not done and I feel like a failure.

And I wonder, for the millionth time, why did I move home? 

But then, I get reminded why it is also a blessing to be nearer.

I get to spend Tuesday afternoons with my nephew. 

Any time with the mijo is good time.

I can make dates with my niece to make cupcakes and brownies -- and watch movies - and be told, "I need some alone time."

And I could go with my uncle to his doctor's appointment -- and get the necessary information that might or not might not get communicated otherwise.  I get the peace of mind of knowing that I can have a little more time with him -- even when he is infuriating, he's my uncle, my godfather, and an important part of my life. 

It tinges the Mexican Archie Bunker moments with a little gold glitter -- we won't have him forever. 

I can't fix anything.

I have to keep reminding myself.

But, if it makes my aunt and uncle feel a little safer to know I am a phone call away -- then I guess it is worth incurring my parents' wrath when I try to throw some things out. 

Thank goodness for the reminders because sometimes I really do forget why this was a good (and necessary) idea.