A week at my parent’s house

I’m extremely lucky to have a very close knit family. My parents live just around the corner from me and they help me out a lot!
Having a long term health issue does sometimes make me dependent on others, as much as I hate to admit that. My parents are thankfully around to assist as needed.
After a busy weekend away with my family recently, I had a recurrence of my disc problems in my lower back and ended up being signed off work for a while so it could settle. Although I was able to hobble about slowly, I was in a huge amount of pain and managing with my two children was just too difficult.
Once they went their dad’s house for a few days, I upped sticks and moved into my parents house with them.
I know that is a situation that a lot of my friends would cringe at, but it was absolutely fine, as I knew it would be.
How do we manage this?
Well, obviously, yes I am their daughter, but we tend to now have a relationship based on mutual respect of one another as adults rather than just a parent-child relationship.
This is crucial.
It would be impossible for me to be living in their house for a week at my age and yet be treated as a child. I’m still their child, but I’m also a grown woman, with her own home, car, job and children.
I’ve had a lovely week. I’ve been well looked after, I’ve endeavoured to be a good house guest (also crucial! Yes, they’re my Mum and Dad but I can’t expect them to pander to me and still retain their respect).
My children and nephew were here too for the last three days which brought noise and chaos to the house!
All in all, is been lovely. However I’m happy to be well enough now to be returning home later today

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