Family LIfe


It’s the end of an era. My son, X, has just turned 2 and a half. And the poor sod has already lived in two houses and as I write we’re looking for his third.

This wasn’t the plan. When Hubby and I found out we were having a baby – which happened rather a lot quicker than we were expecting – we were living in our first rented house together that wasn’t a house share. We’d been there for around a year, and while it was a nice little house, it wasn’t a long term thing. We were fortunate to manage to put together a deposit while renting (with a big help from the bank of mum and dad) and found a great property just after we got married… so I must have been about 7 months pregnant. We don’t do things by half, us!


Sadly, it took 6 MONTHS to get the keys, so with a bit of maths you can hopefully figure out that X had come into the world by that point. I am not an elephant…


We finally had the house in some semblance of homeliness (is that a word?) when Hubby went and got his dream job – a tad over 60 miles away. So we had to start the house hunt all over again because no one needs a 120 mile round commute everyday.

If you’ve ever sold and bought a house, you’ll know it’s an absolute shit-storm of stress and having your hopes dashed. But now we appear to have a buyer who’ll stick, and while the new home is still ever so slightly out of reach it is now firmly on the horizon. The house move is inevitable.


Thus far, I’ve been putting it to the back of my mind. It always seemed somewhat intangible. In the distance. Something to worry about another day. But now that this day is creeping ever nearer, I’m having to come to terms with a lot of emotions.

End of an Era

Our house – our house that was meant to be our family home, where our kids would grow up and our house that we spent weeks repainting as there is only so many green walls a person can stand. In a few months time this wont be our house any more. It will belong to a new family, for them to make new memories in.

They wont know that X took his first ever steps in the kitchen, just in front of the sink. They wont know that X first said “I love you” to his Daddy in the little bedroom at the front of the house. They wont know about all the sleepless nights spent pacing the hallway, or the long days stuck in the lounge with a sleepy baby on my chest.


Not to mention the drama of ripping out the airing cupboard and the rotten floorboards, or the hours spent labouring the garden (Hubby, not me… I don’t “do” outside) to move the path and get rid of some dodgy textured slabs.


We’ve only been here just over 2 years, but a lot has happened in this lovely house. I know there are new memories to make, new adventures to have with our new home, but leaving this one behind is going to be much harder than I thought. I dread the moment we hand over the keys to this collection of bricks, and say goodbye to our first real home as a family.

Now, if the solicitors could get their acts together I could concentrate on enjoying our remaining time here, and looking forward to our new start…


This post was originally featured here on on 30th August 2016

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