Almost exactly two years ago Ian and I moved. By dumb blind luck we sold our townhouse at the market's inflated peak and walked away with almost the entire amount that we bought it for 3 years earlier. We moved to a little spot with young families like ours. Like everyone else we planned to live here for a year or two and then move on to our 'real' home. The one where we'd raise our kids and plant our apricot trees and I'd have a crafts room and be on the PTA. The one where we'd really unpack everything and make our lifelong friends.
After we'd been here for a year the little guys came along, and we knew our two bedroom wouldn't be easy to keep living in. At the beginning of the year we also needed to stay close to Ian's work so he can keep helping me as much as he does. Houses around here aren't really in our range so buying a place was out, but so was renting another bedroom. Renting a 3 bedroom is too expensive for our budget and with paying for full-time help would really eat at our savings. We had to make the space work for awhile, and at the beginning it really wasn't super hard.
The babies slept anywhere!
We hit a major obstacle in January when Jack and Christian shed all remnants of that newborn-portable-sleepy stage. They needed to be soothed to sleep, and they needed a quiet, dark little space that would keep them asleep for an hour or two (and give me a much-needed break). This led to endless experimenting. Caleb and Julian's room was out. The bathrooms are super teeny, and the closets in mine and Ian's room are too small for even the smallest port-a-crib (believed me, I looked high and low!). It took several weeks to figure out a solution- the place and manner to soothe the babies, a mattress that fit on the closet floor, and a white noise player that helped block out the sound. After 8 weeks (8 weeks!) of having my patience tested so thoroughly there were moments I thought I would strangle anyone that crossed my path, we started to have more good days then bad days. Jack and Christian now go down regularly at 9am for 1-2 hours and the whole gang takes a grand nap at 1pm for 1-3hours. Everyone is down by 7pm at night.
I was really impressed with myself. I must admit some flaws existed in the system. During the grand nap I couldn't talk on the phone, (too loud), use my computer (in my room), work in the kitchen (shared a wall with Christian's closet), work on my crafts (too noisy in my room) or nap (I guess I'm a noisy sleeper) or do anything except be trapped in our super bright living room thumb-twiddling. It sucked, but was doable, although looking back I can see how I was getting very strained (um, yeah, that's putting it nicely). I felt exhausted but triumphant and was even deluded enough to start writing a post about how 2 bedroom living with a 2+2+2 family was 'totally manageable.'
Well, one night Christian woke himself up about 6 times. Despite my padding, he rolled into the closet and was banging his head against the door. He was growing so fast, already the closet was too small for him! We thought about moving him to the living room, but were worried he'd keep Caleb and Julian awake, who were now crib jumping. Or worse, they'd mess with him in the middle of the night. As I talked about the issue with my friend Natalie, I realized how anxious I had really become. Obviously, we had to make a change. We needed to move.
Christian when he first started sleeping in the closet
Which brings us to 'the plan'. It's time to buy a house, our house, the quaint bungalow that's drastically reduced in a little neighborhood somewhere just waiting for a young family to take possession. This was our plan from the beginning, so let's get on with it already. Except, Ian and I have a big fat something standing in the way.
Ian is planning on becoming a producer. There are so many questions about this process that the future is pretty unclear but one thing is for certain: taking on a big mortgage would shut the door to that option. I'd like to think it wouldn't, that we could work around it, but I know in my heart that it will. So, what's it going to be? Our stable life with the PTA and the lifelong friends like most normal people our age are doing, or... do we continue to chase the dream.
Honestly though, aren't we're too old for risky plans/dreams? Isn't this the point where most people just give it up and get on with their lives? Or at least have their dreams morph into something more sensible or take up a hobby? While I do like living in the city, everybody feels a pull towards the next phase of life when we hit certain crossroads, and that's what I feel now. It seems the smart thing to do.
As Ian and I talked about where we'd move I began to feel in my heart that our small fortune (at least for us!) from selling our house a couple years ago wasn't meant to be used to buy another one at this time. Or maybe ever. It was given to us to invest in Ian. He can't support a family and build a business without some start-up capital, and this little bone was thrown to us so we can keep going. Even if we put every penny into Ian and nothing happens, I will think it would have been well worth it. Although I have a very good feeling something IS going to happen, we're taking a risk so it could go either way because that's the way risks work.
So we decided to put off our forever after a little longer. We may never move to a home that we own, at least for a long time, but that's OK. It's an expectation that I am starting to let go of. Miraculously, a 3 bedroom apartment in our complex dropped in price and we realized it wouldn't be too painful to rent. The big items were carted by movers and we moved the rest in strollers and shopping carts so we didn't have to deal with unpacking. (I actually stayed in my pajamas the entire day, it was that insane.) As we're settling into our new space, I'm realizing maybe the universe threw us another little bone. Not just the too-perfect moving situation, but with all the help we got and continue to receive. Our RS President and my friends Natalie and Lindsay watching my kids, my friend Ashlee bringing us lunch and Deborah bringing us dinner reminded me that our caring friends make this experience manageable. I may still have a craft corner instead of a crafts room but I'm happy. Maybe these are our lifelong friends, and this is our real home.
what a bunch of vagabonds!!
Christian and Jack getting moved
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