It is January 22nd 2016. I really don’t know where the time goes sometimes. I work 9 days a fortnight so that does take up some time. I also spend time with my mum and dad. I enjoy their company and I like to make sure they are both okay. They are in their 70’s and still living in their own home and looking after each other. So I just keep an eye on them.
I just read an article and as I was replying to the article, leaving a comment, this article grew. I recently had to ask my daughter to leave my home. It was the hardest thing to do and it led me into a really bad tail spin of depression.
I won’t divulge most of the course of events that led me to evict my own daughter. I am not proud of evicting her and it was very hard to do. I am a very soft person, and I don’t like confrontation, and I think I probably spoil my children too much and give them too much.
It was just after Christmas, it was almost her birthday and she is a single parent with a 2 year old daughter, my granddaughter. So it didn’t come easy, kicking her out of my home. It happened not long after Christmas. My daughter, we’ll call her Melissa, was staying with her sister. Her sister’s partner asked her to leave, and gave her six weeks notice to move out. After six weeks Melissa hadn’t found a place to move to, so I had said if she couldn’t find anywhere else to go then she could come back home.
I had set up a bed for her in my lounge room so that her daughter had a room to herself. When Melissa moved home, she took over the lounge room and the dining room and had lots of her belongings and the baby’s belongings spread throughout the house. It was a mess. I allowed the mess to continue, as it was easier to put up with the mess rather than argue with the lazy girl, who spent most of her time sleeping.
I work hard in Aged Care. I am a personal care worker. We work very hard and my work is very physical. I would work hard and then drive home. I was often quite stressed about going home because I knew I was going home to a mess, and possible an argument if I asked Melissa to do any housework.
I would go home and the place would be a mess. Dirty dishes all over the benches, dirty washing thrown behind my couch, toys everywhere, books everywhere (the books that my granddaughter would just push out of the shelf where they were stored and throw them all over the floor), wet washing in the washing machine or in a basket in the laundry.
I really didn’t want to go home. I would walk in the door, put the kettle on, run a sink of water and do the dishes. Then I would clean off the couch because it was usually covered in stuff, toys, clothes, unfolded washing, books, paper. Then I would clear my dining room table off, it was usually covered with mess too. Then I would just sit on the couch and veg. out for a while because I was exhausted.
If I spoke to Melissa about the dishes there was an argument. “I’ll do the dishes at the end of the day”, she would say. Or “Their not all my dishes. Why should I do everybody’s dishes.” My son also lives at home. My son and I would probably make 2 or 3 dirty dishes each in the morning, a cup and a spoon each for our morning coffee. So Melissa had all these excuses why she wouldn’t do the dishes. They were mostly hers and her daughters. I asked her to wash her dishes after every meal. It rarely happened. The washing! Well she was tired and needed to sleep because she has a baby and she was up with her all night.
I have four children. I didn’t sleep during the day because I was up with the children. I also did the dishes and washing regularly as they needed to be done. I don’t think I was unreasonable expecting her to do her dishes and washing and keep my house clean.
What I should have come home to, being as Melissa is 24 years old, and not a child, I should have come home to a clean house and a cooked meal every night. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes Melissa would cook spaghetti bolognaise. She does cook a nice spag bog. This was a rare occasion though, and if she cooked she wouldn’t do the dishes, because “I cooked the meal so I am not doing the dishes.”
So the catalyst for evicting Melissa was when I decided to move the double bed from the lounge room back in to the back bedroom where Melissa’s daughter was sleeping. When Melissa was living here before she moved out, both the bed and the cot were in the back room. I moved the bed to my lounge room to allow my granddaughter to stay in a good sleep routine. They each had their own room at my other daughter’s house.
I moved the bed into the back bedroom the day after Christmas. Melissa wasn’t at home. When the bed was moved, there was wall to wall rubbish under the bed. It was quite disgusting. There was dirty clothes, used tissues, used muesli bar wrappers, half eaten muesli bars, paper, junk, mail, and more stuff. I had help to move the bed. After my helpers left, I started to clean the space where the bed had stood. It took me an hour and half to clean up all the rubbish. I sorted as I went so that I didn’t throw out important paperwork. It was unbelievable that this woman, my daughter, would leave such a mess under her bed. I’m pretty sure I taught her how to use a rubbish bin.
The mess behind the couch was almost as bad. My other daughter, we’ll call her Tamara, and I spent a few days taking all the clothing to the laundry (my laundry) and washing it and hanging it out on the line. Then the washing would come in and be folded and placed in Melissa’s bedroom. Once the mess behind the couch was sorted and removed, Melissa decided to bring out ALL her daughter’s toys and spread them around the lounge room, behind the couch, where we had just cleaned up all the mess.
Melissa and Tamara were both angry with me for moving the bed. Let me emphasize, this is my house and I moved the bed because I was sick of the mess, and I was too embarrassed to let my friends come and visit me, and I had asked Melissa to clean up her mess many times. It usually ended in an argument. She was tired. She needed sleep. Her daughter had kept her up all night. When my son and I came into the kitchen to get ready for work, we were noisy (according to Melissa) and woke her up. We were in the kitchen getting breakfast or coffee and getting ready to go to work. That was another reason I moved the bed, because Melissa told me I am too noisy in the morning, getting ready for work and I woke her up because I was so noisy.
I decided that if I move the bed into the back room, then we will not wake her up while we are getting ready for work. There would be two doors between us and her and she would not be able to growl about us waking her up, getting ready to go to work. Let me emphasize that too – GETTING READY FOR WORK! While Melissa would be laying in bed, sleeping and she would have 2 sleeps during the day because she was so tired.
So once the bed was moved I also moved furniture to the back bedroom. I moved a chest of drawers in there and Melissa gave me a serve for that. Then I told her I wanted her to clean up some of Jacinta’s (the granddaughter) toys and put them away as Jacinta cannot possible play with all the toys that Melissa had put out – every single toy that Jacinta owned was now in my lounge room behind the couch. Jacinta couldn’t even play there because the toys were jam packed in there. I asked Melissa to pack up “some of her toys” and I went to buy some garbage bags to store some of the soft toys in.
When I got home from the shopping centre Melissa was in a foul mood and Jacinta was crying. “What’s wrong with Jacinta?” I asked Melissa. Melissa replied “she’s upset because I am packing up all her toys.” I said “you don’t have to pack up all her toys, just some, she can’t play with them all, and I am moving them from behind the couch, and I never said you have to pack up all her toys.”
As I was trying to say this to Melissa she started on me. She told me I said to pack up all the toys. She said a whole lot of other stuff that I really cannot remember. When I was trying to speak she kept speaking over me. She was so angry. When I tried to defend myself and speak to her and tell her “not all the toys, just some of them” she kept speaking over me. Then I raised my voice because she wouldn’t let me speak. Then she started saying “don’t argue in front of my daughter, she’s really sensitive, she picks up on these things, etc, etc.” I told Melissa that I was just trying to tell her what I had said. So the argument got heated because I was trying to have my say, but Melissa wouldn’t let me speak, then she didn’t want to argue in front of her daughter, then I was being inconsiderate because I wouldn’t stop speaking or arguing in front of Jacinta.
Then Melissa served up her final words that got her evicted. She has a nasty temper and she was on her last warning that if she ever spoke to me the way she had in the past then she would have to leave. Three times since she had moved back from Tamara’s she had told me what she thought of me, in no uncertain terms. I am not going to repeat the words here, because they are so disgusting. When she said these words to me I just said “that’s it, you’re out of here, just go.” And that was it. She had to leave. I am extremely patient and kind and considerate. In short I am a bit of a door mat for my children. But this time I stuck to my guns. I am not going to be abused any more. Not only did she call me a very unpleasant name, she got in my face and said to me (well screamed at me) “what are you going to do about it” and I told her nothing. I believe that Melissa wanted me to hit her or smack her or retaliate in some way so that she had an excuse to lay into me. And I believe that she would have laid into me if I raised a hand to her.
So I finally did it and it wasn’t easy. I told her she had to leave. She went up to her bedroom and closed the door and stayed in there for about an hour. Then she took some clothes in bags for her and Jacinta and headed off in a taxi. As she was leaving, I told her that if she apologises then she is welcome to stay. I don’t remember what she said. I got an sms later from her that said “If you deserved an apology btw, you’d have gotten it by now”. So I am not expecting an apology any time soon. Melissa is living with her father now and she is safe and has a roof over her head for her and Jacinta.
So how can something so bad lead to good? At first, after it all happened and I evicted Melissa and Jacinta, I did spiral into depression. I feel bad that I kicked her out, but she was warned and she knew that if she continued to be disrespectful, she would have to leave my house. At the end of the day, Melissa was in control of her own destiny and when she opened her mouth and called me the most unpleasant of names, she had to leave. It had happened three times prior to this occasion. I feel bad and I will continue to feel bad for sending her on her way, however I deserve respect from my own children and she did not have any respect for me at all. Even now she thinks she is right and I am wrong. She told me she was defending her daughter and she would do it again, if it was warranted.
She has not learned or grown from this incident. I hope that she will grow and learn and be more respectful to other people. I love her and want her to be happy, but not at my expense. I had many sleepless nights after this incident as I feel bad and I judge myself and I think it could have been handled better. I am my own worst critic. I don’t know how I could have handled it better in the heat of the moment. I do know that I deserve the best and I deserve to be respected. I couldn’t sleep for nights, night after night, tossing and turning, feeling bad, feeling guilty. I was at work looking and feeling like a zombie, asleep on my feet. I finally came home and had a long, relaxing salt bath and that night I was able to sleep and I was able to kick start my sleeping pattern.
After Melissa moved out I started to get my life back, and get my house under control. I have cleaned my dining room and lounge room. My floors are clean. There is space to move around my house. I am now able to come home and relax.
I look forward to coming home now. My house is clean and it is so easy to keep it clean. I come home and change out of my work uniform and put my feel up and chill out on the couch in front of the television. I am now cooking meals for my son and I as my kitchen is clean and the dishes are all done. I used to lose all motivation to cook as the kitchen was so messy.
So the good that came out of this awful situation is that my house is clean and is staying clean. I enjoy coming home to my clean house. I am not so stressed now as I was always getting stressed and upset heading home because I would face a mess and usually an argument. I look forward to walking in the front door to total calm and cleanliness. I have escaped the tyranny of one of my adult children, I stood up to her verbal abuse and she was asked to leave my home. I dug myself out of the depression that I spiralled into and I am feeling better and stronger. I have gone from loss to strength, from mess to cleanliness, from a storm every day at home to calm and order. And now I enjoy coming home after work.
Sometimes things have a way of working out, and for me this has worked out to be the best thing I did, even though at the time it was hard to live through. And as Mr Potato Head says in “Toy Story” I have guilt. I am also very happy and content to come home to my little patch of paradise.