Stuff and things

Hurricane Ike
Yes, we went through it; no, we weren't hurt. It was actually pretty cool, if a little scary. Our trees were all okay and we mostly just got a bunch of debris. Olivia slept through the whole thing, Steven stayed outside and watched the whole thing from our porch, and I did a combination of the two. You can see pics on his blog. Our power came back on a mere 18 hours after it went out, making us more popular than we'd ever previously been. We contributed our privileged assets to the creation of two birthday cakes, the preservation of several pounds of cheese and chicken, the running of a generator, and the feeding, cooling, and entertainment of many people. We were more than happy to share, and very grateful to have been so safe and comfortable.

California
On Monday Olivia and I flew out here to help take care of my little sister while my parents are out picking up my younger brother from a religious mission in Indonesia. I've been struck by how interesting it is being back in my parents house after having a house of my own. It's a different situation to be here while they are not, as I am more proprietor than guest, and yet at the same time not.

I love my parents and have a lot of respect for them. Still, I honestly have nightmares about living with them again, not because they are in any way distasteful people, but simply because parts of their lifestyle drive me absolutely crazy. My born family is loud; I am not and greatly dislike being around loud and excessive talking. My parents keep clutter everywhere; I can't stand having a bunch of "stuff." They like to argue and hem and haw about trifles; I prefer to be straightforward and decisive, and hate arguments (however, I am not afraid of confrontation when it is needed). Since my parents are not here, many of these things are not issues, but there are little things all over that remind me of that, and also just little details that drive me batty - impractical cleaning supplies, an overabundance of VHS tapes, unintuitive organization (onions in the broom closet?), too much of some things and not enough of others.

What I need to keep reminding myself is that, regardless of my current responsibility, this is still my parents' house - and regardless of my relationship to them, I really have no ownership or responsibility to it. There's nothing wrong with my parents or the way they live. Like I said before, they're very good people and they're happy. They're also very intelligent and capable of taking care of themselves and their home, and all I can and should really do is note the differences, respect our respective independences, and go about my way. As an adult, I can choose the way I run my house, the way I decorate and organize my cupboards and populate my fridge. I can choose my own family, choose a husband who matches my temperament and values the same things I do, and raise our kids to value those things too.

And when my kids grow up, they can come back to visit us and shudder about how quiet we are and how Mom keeps her onions in the PANTRY. Sheesh.