Moving Home or Leaving Home?
Almost two years ago my family moved into my parent’s house with the anticipation that we would be buying our own home shortly after. We stayed 18 months. Finally, we're days away from moving into our own home. But, it feels like I'm leaving home...
The purpose of our family moving in with mom and dad 18 months ago was to be free of all commitments and go into a 30-day closing with as little stress as possible.
I think I have simply gone into denial this week that we are actually moving. We still have to go through the closing process, but it's here. The boxes are packed, the trucks scheduled, the utilities are transferring and, of course, the kids are being handled. I’m insanely excited, but it’s now become this bitter sweet pill.
I’m wondering why we have so much stuff in mom and dad’s garage to move. I thought all of our stuff was in storage.
This past week, I have been constantly thinking about how much I have enjoyed living with my parents. Y’all are probably like, “you have been living with your parents, really?” Yes, really. I have enjoyed it. My husband has enjoyed it. Our kids have enjoyed it. My family is incredibly close. We are friends. We have a routine, lots of laughs and lots of love and fabulous memories. Our children have become little people in this house.
I'll miss the routine. The morning routine is pure chaos. The driveway is more of a Rubic's Cube of cars; moving them around so everyone come and go. I’m not a morning person, but it does help to grab my coffee and know that mom is grumpy, too. My dad and husband are both cheerful in the morning. As I walk my oldest son Ethan to school whoever is left in the house goes on Quinn watch. Within 20 minutes of me getting home from taking Ethan, the house empties as everyone leaves for work. I can start my day as most of you who don’t live with your parents.
Around 5 p.m. the family members return home. Mom is usually the first. My husband and dad are later in the evening. I’m busy feeding and bathing my little monkey children and attempting to get them in bed.
Every night my sons race down the stairs to “the cave” where grandma and grandpa are watching "The Mentalist" (they are addicts, I tell ya). The heartwarming moment of the hugs, kisses and “I love you” between the boys and my parents melts me every time.
In light of mom’s cancer diagnosis, these moments are even more important to me.
The kids go to bed. My husband, who is addicted to “Ancient Aliens,” turns on the bedroom television. Depending on the prime time line-up, I head downstairs to watch my shows with mom since we have the same line-up. Since the men folk are in bed, we indulge in the evening ice-cream or dessert of the week while sharing opinions about "The Bachelor," "American Idol," "Revenge," "Grey’s Anatomy" and "Private Practice." Those are just a few of our favorites.
In our final week, these trivial events in the days of our lives become huge monumental events that will never be again. I’m taking in the beauty of my walks to school with Ethan like I will never walk that walk again. I want to grab my camera and get pictures of Ethan hugging mom and dad bye as he leaves for school, and of dad munching on Quinn’s curls every night before bed.
Weekend mornings when I stroll downstairs and find the boys curled up with my mom on the couch watching "Scooby Doo," are some of my favorite memories for multiple reasons.
Once moved, we'll see my parents at least once a week. We are only moving a few miles away. I think about how both of my parents left their hometown to move states away from their parents. I’m in shock at how they survived it.
My husband says, “it's time to cut the cord, Katie”. It’s not that I need them as my security blanket or depend on them for living, I just love them. They are my family. The cultures that have multi generations living together are my kind of people. I love it. I think we're shocked by how easy it is to live together.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m super excited to move into my new home, start new routines and set roots for my kids. I can’t wait to see my stuff again and organize them my way. But, if my parents came knocking on my door wanting to move in I would pack them up myself in a heartbeat.
In today’s economic crisis, many families are shacking up together because they need to. Our “shack up” was for different reasons, thankfully, but we still ended up helping each.
If you are in a situation and need to move in with family, look at it as an adventure. I think the scenario gets a bad rap, but it becomes what you make of it. Life is what you make of it. There are worse things than living with family. I’m grateful that I have parents who would let me and my crazy family live with them.
Since I will never have the words to thank my parents for all they have done for us and the unconditional love, I want to thank them publicly. “Thanks mom and dad, I love you tons and tons as does my family. The past 22 months have been more fun and memory-filled than I ever thought possible. I’m thrilled that my boys will have such amazing memories and stories of living at grandma and grandpa’s. You will always have a home with us! Mom, I will see you Thursday night for "Revenge" and "Dad," and save me a seat for "Idol" on Wednesday!”