But because my daughter has a strong sense of her uniqueness, I think the Momwich actually helps her to hold on to herself in a house with two other strong women. I don’t think Elyse and my mom have the same sort of relationship they might have if they had the normal amount of space that grandmothers and granddaughters have between them. I don’t know if that is something they might miss with each other. But there is something to be said for being a part of the every day. And I wonder how it will turn out over time. We’ve been in our current Momwich configuration for almost a decade and we are all growing and morphing and changing and trying to remain loving through it all. Mom is moving some of her time and interests out of the house, and Elyse is perched on the edge of the nest. It’s not that hard to imagine that I could be the top bun in another kind of Momwich someday.

I also wonder how many women find themselves, at different times in their lives, in a Momwich. It certainly isn’t something you dream about as a child. I don’t think anyone, when she is seven years old and dreaming about her adult life says, "Man, I can’t wait to grow up so I can keep living with my mother!" But life brings to us situations that change our idea of "normal" and give us a chance to see whether the faith and grace we profess to possess is all talky, talky and no walky, walky. And it gives a daily proving ground for love to triumph through dysfunction.

I’ve found that Momwiches are a lot like Manwiches: meaty, messy, alternately sloppy and satisfying. Like the Manwich, a Momwich is a slightly heavier emotional portion than many would even attempt to bite off, but we are all three the stronger women for it.