Tomorrow we move into the third home we’ve occupied in the short 4.5 years of our marriage. This is also the third time we’ve moved while I’m newly pregnant. That just happens to an unbelievable coincidence, because each and every time we’ve moved, I didn’t know I was pregnant when we made the plans to move, only finding out after the new mortgage/lease was signed.
– In November 2005, we started the processes of buying a condo early in the month. The same week we got approved for the loan, we found out we were expecting Jonas.
– In September 2007, we moved out of that condo and into the current house, and found out just 11 days after we moved in that we were expecting Julesy.
– And in July of 2010, we signed a lease to move out of this home and into a new apartment, only to discover just 10 days later that we’re expecting yet another baby.
If you ever find out that I’m moving again, I think it’s safe to assume that I must be pregnant, even if I don’t know it yet.
But leaving this house is especially sad. When we moved in here three years ago, we thought this would be the place that our children would bring their children. We never expected to leave. Even though we were renting this house, the landlord intended to sell it to us when we were ready. We knew it was going to be a few years before we recovered from the disaster of the condo we had just sold, but we thought that when the time was right, we’d take ownership and that would be that.
Bye Bye House - We'll miss you.
However, as time went on here, and we added Julesy to the family, we began to realize this place wasn’t quite right for us. First of all, the layout is ridiculous. Yes, it has three bedrooms, but not really. When the first owners added an addition on to this simple walk-up ranch, they didn’t add UP, the way everyone else in the neighborhood seemed to do. Instead, they added OUT, meaning they put an extra bedroom and bathroom (our master suite) on to the back of the house, using another bedroom as the “doorway” to the new part of the house.
So what does that mean? I means that you have to walk through one of the bedrooms to get to the other, which essentially makes that middle bedroom nothing more than a hallway. For a very long time, we used it as my office. But this summer we caved and turned it into Julesy’s room because we found that the boys couldn’t handle sleeping in the same room.
The other thing I hated was that, even though we had a back yard, there was no good way to get to it. Because the first owners added this brick addition on to the back of the house, you could no longer really see the backyard from any part of the house. We had a TINY window in our bedroom that was 5 feet off the ground, but that’s all. The only way to get to the backyard was to go all the way to the front of the house, then to the side, and down the sidewalk. I could never leave the kids outside playing while I went in to use the bathroom or something – I may as well have just left them alone at the park down the street for as much as I could see them from the house. Going to the back yard was like going somewhere else. I had to pack like I was going on a trip because there was really no running in and out once we were out there.
Oh, and the kitchen. Ugh. The tiny, TINY kitchen. When friends came over they’d oooh and aaah over our kitchen because the landlord had installed beautiful cabinets, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. However, all that was packed into a 5’ x 5’ space. I’m not joking when I say that my husband could stand in the middle of our kitchen and touch all four walls at once. It was a shoebox. A miserable place to try to cook or store food. I hated it every minute of every day.
But despite all this, we still had no intention of moving out of here. We figured we’d stay here either until we could afford to buy it and immediately remodel the place, or until we could afford to buy the perfect house just down the street. We adore this neighborhood. It’s our home. It’s where my bestest friends are now. It’s where we feel the absolute perfect mix of city culture and suburban air.
But all of that changed the day of the flood.
When we woke up to find everything in our finished basement was destroyed, we immediately decided this was our chance to get out and move on. We lost all of our furniture, toys, electronics on that floor, and we knew by the damage that had been done to the walls and carpet that the place would never look the same again – or if it ever did – it was going to take a long time.
So, we rented a 3 bedroom, 2 bath apartment just five minutes from my new business. We’re happy about moving into a real 3 bedroom, and about not having to do yard work anymore, but we’re very sad leaving a place that we made a home.
Moving into this apartment means that there’s no hope of this being our last address. We will have to move again – hopefully to a home that we own, but this means that none of my children will ever be born in the place they will grow up. We definitely won’t be able to buy anything until after I’m done with law school and have worked for a few years, so we’re looking at anywhere from 6-8 years before we can own a permanent home.
You’d have to know my back story to understand why this is so upsetting to me, but suffice to say that after growing up like a homeless nomad, I never wanted that for my kids. I never wanted them to move even once - let alone this many times in their short life. I wanted my kids to have a life like my husband had – being born and raised at the same address, with the same friends, until he started out on his own.
This all has me extra sad and nostalgic, but it’s happening, and I can’t stop it.
I just keep trying to remind myself, “There’s a pool at the new place.”
I hear you. Moving sucks. Plain and simple. I hope you guys find a permanent home someday. In the mean time, I hope the new apartment rocks!
I haven't moved nearly as many times as you have, but I remember when I was 18 and my parents sold the childhood apartment I grew up in in Manhattan. It was really sad. I still have dreams about it.
- spam
- offensive
- disagree
- off topic
Like