The Coming of Truth

It's chilly in my bedroom. I can hear the fan oscillating back and forth even though the ear buds are filling my head with song. The air is racing across my bare skin and it's chilling me to the bone. It would be easy to curl underneath the quilt and cover myself up from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. In a strange way, the cold air teasing my skin feels good. It's making me feel alive.

Today we're supposed to receive word regarding the mortgage. They wanted us to fax over our tax return and, since I've never held a mortgage in my name, they were going to try to see if they could get us a First Time Homebuyer mortgage. It would be so sweet if they could do that.

It's been more than a bit stressful over the past month or so. We're all anxious to start a new life in a new home. But we're not 100% positive that we'll be acquire the necessary funds to finance it. Today, we'll find out.

My husband already has a cornfield planted on the back property. He has rows of tomatoes and various other vegetables planted in his mind. I have already erected a greenhouse and have started hundreds of plants inside of it. My 10 year old has already staked claim on a few chickens, and has visions of feeding them and "watching them all day". We already thought of new chores for the kids, including the oldest.

I had it out with our oldest son the other day. He came over to the house, but didn't stay as long as he usually does. He usually stays for a couple of hours, but this time, he was here for about 15 to 20 minutes.

I asked him point blank why he's not going to move in with the family. (He was here the other day and told his father he didn't think he was going to take the apartment in the house.) I don't pull punches when I'm upset about something. I caught him off guard, because I asked him this when he was discussing his photography (his new hobby).

He started sputtering excuses - one after another. None of them truly believable, as I already know the reason. I just wanted him to say it to me. The closest to the honest reason was "well, I was thinking about what would happen if I wanted to have people over and I don't know if moving in is a good thing."

Bullshit. He doesn't want to move in because he's holding onto hope that his ex-girlfriend will want to get back together with him. He knows that she would not be allowed in our home -- not ever.

We had looked at other homes, too. Although our heart was set on our neighbor's house, we were aware that maybe we'd be better off getting a house that, to be honest, cost less. Every house we considered, we ended up saying "no" to because there would not be enough bedrooms to have our oldest son live with us.

He was all fired up about it at first. He couldn't wait for his sister to buy our house and for us to live across the street. He said that it would be the way it should be -- the entire family close. He had, in his mind, planted the yard over here and was already mowing the lawn for his sister. He was all about it until his ex-girlfriend came back into the picture.

I told him, "You know you really hurt our feelings when you decided to not move in. Your father and I looked at other houses, too. We didn't need to put all that we have into getting Roger's house. We could have saved 100,000 dollars and gotten a smaller house, but we kept saying that there wouldn't be enough room for Eddie."

He looked at me, and he had this expression on his face that made him look like he was in shock. It was almost as if I pulled him out of a fantasy world or something. I suppose that is what he's been living in lately.

My husband and I discussed things. We aren't going to ask him to move in again. He's upset us quite a bit lately -- not all house related.

He was supposed to show up last Saturday to help his father clean up the basement so we can get someone in here to run pipe from the new well we just had dug to the basement. He failed to show up. He never even called or sent a text telling us he wouldn't be here.

We loaned him money before Christmas. He told us that he was having a very difficult time meeting his expenses (rent, bills and food), and that he needed help. So we loaned him a thousand dollars to get on his feet. He swore up and down that he would pay us back. He even made a point in saying that he isn't one that would go against something like that.

He also swore that he would start making payments a few weeks after the loan. He hasn't made any effort whatsoever in trying to pay it back. His father asked him a couple of days ago about repaying the loan. He's making good money of late at the tattoo parlor he works at, but he kind of blew it off.

The whole loan thing is what kicked started us in trying to find a larger home. It was the thing that take a chance to buy a larger home. We figured that if he was hurting bad enough to ask for money maybe it would be best if we helped him by drastically cutting his expenses and helping him save money.

But he seems to like kicking us in the balls of late. His father is unhappy with him. I am unhappy with him. His sister is unhappy with him.

I feel like we have a two year old again.

Sigh...

It doesn't get easier when they get older. I've found this out.