My mother left her partner overseas and has returned home penniless, having not had a job in 25 years and burned through the moderate divorce settlement from when she and my father went their separate ways.
She has been living with us for two months now, and only in the past fortnight confirmed that this isn't just a visit but a permanent relocation. She has fully occupied our spare room and spends her time walking the dog, washing up, doing laundry, visiting friends around the country and watching tv.
The first three items are helpful, but not enough to make up for the extra mouth to feed and the loss of a spare room. She refuses to provide any childcare - I'm self-employed and work mostly from home, so that'd be a great help - but that is absolutely her prerogative. It's clear that she will need to get a job, if not to contribute to the household then to cover things like clothes, hair, nails and lunches out that are being picked up by sympathetic friends and my single younger sister, not to mention the repairs needed to her twelve-year-old performance car.
My husband doesn't like her (or anyone else really) going in our room, but this is something she just cannot seem to compute. She says "oh get over it". He found her in our bathroom today; her response was that she didn't know he was home, still failing to understand that it's an "at all" situation. He was pissy with her about it, so she launched a tirade at me about how he's an arrogant snob.
She hates that our house is messy, but I just don't care enough to dedicate time to clearing up beyond the basic. I'd rather do most other things - play with the kids, work, read. Apparently we think we're better than other people and that's why we don't tidy up. She's always thought this of people who work - that they think they're better because they're busy. She tries to block people from coming into the house because apparently I should be ashamed of how messy it is. But I'm not ashamed. It's not like it's gross or smelly - it's untidy.
Anyway, apparently there's no compromise to be had. She won't get a job or apply for benefits until she's decided whether she's going to live at her friend's house (in her 25-year-old daughter's bedroom, with all her teen decor still present) or here.
If she's here, she won't stop going in our room, and apparently that's only because she wants to keep the place tidy.
I guess she's just freaking out. It must be terrifying starting afresh with nothing, and I honestly don't feel that she'd feel welcome anywhere. She had a rough childhood and a horrendous marriage, and none of us children have turned out how she wanted. But you can't travel on that feeling, or some suppressed version of it, forever.