Tag Page Adulting

#Adulting
mcphersonlaura

Are you still sorting lights and darks clothes before you wash them?

This is a classic Millennial dilemma. I grew up with the strict multi-step laundry ritual my parents enforced. We had separate hampers for whites, darks, and towels, and the temperature had to be precisely correct for each load. Now, my spouse and I just throw everything into one machine, run it on cold, and call it efficiency. The arguments are hilarious. On one side, people are militant about sorting to preserve their nice knitwear and avoid the tragedy of a faded white shirt. They argue that sorting makes clothes last 20 years. On the other side, people say modern washers and detergents have made sorting totally obsolete. We are so busy that if we waited to have a full load of just "bright delicates," we would be wearing dirty clothes for a week. There is also a whole sub-group that sorts by what they need to wash hot (towels and underwear) and what they wash cold (all the regular clothes). And then there are the people who just throw everything in and are surprised when they forget a tissue and their dryer looks like a winter wonderland. So where do you stand on the laundry sorting debate? #Millennials #LaundryHacks #Adulting #Chores #DomesticLife

Are you still sorting lights and darks clothes before you wash them?
Mary Vasquez

my 29-year-old son moved back home—and nothing is the same

He told me it would be temporary. “A few months,” he said, “until I save for a down payment.” That was eleven months ago. Now he works from my dining room table, on conference calls with his camera off. He sleeps past noon, heats up leftovers, and orders DoorDash like it’s a subscription. His laundry piles up in the guest room; his girlfriend “stays over” more nights than she doesn’t. My house has become his co-living space and I’m the unpaid landlord. When I asked him to contribute—anything—he looked offended. “Mom, rent’s impossible out there. You wouldn’t get it,” he said. He’s right that rent is insane. He’s wrong that I don’t get the pressure. I paid my dues. I worked nights. I’m not trying to be cruel—I just don’t want to be erased from my own home. My husband thinks we should “be supportive.” My sister calls me dramatic. The neighbors whisper. And me? I lie awake wondering if I enabled this. Did I make life too easy and create a 29-year-old who’s allergic to adulting? Or am I the unreasonable parent expecting a grown man to act like one? I love him. I want him to succeed. But when does help become permission to never try? #Family #Money #Adulting

my 29-year-old son moved back home—and nothing is the same
Mary Vasquez

my 29-year-old son moved back home… and brought his girlfriend.

He said it would be “for a few months” until he saves for a down payment. That was 11 months ago. Now he’s working remote from my dining room table, ordering DoorDash twice a day, and his girlfriend just started “staying over” on weekdays. They treat my house like a co-living space — coffee mugs everywhere, laundry half-done, thermostat always at 70 because “it helps him focus.” When I asked if they could chip in for utilities, he told me, “Mom, you said you wanted me to get ahead financially. Why are you charging me rent?” I love my son, but at what point does “helping your adult kid” turn into being taken advantage of? My husband says I’m overreacting. I say this is how you create 30-year-old teenagers. #Family #Money #Adulting

my 29-year-old son moved back home… and brought his girlfriend.
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