I can't believe we're even thinking of it. To say it out loud, to type it, seems ridiculous. Can it be true?
We are thinking of moving in... with my parents.
That's right, folks, if you didn't realize I was a glutton for punishment before, this should do it. You see, it all started one night my father called me and left a voicemail saying, "I think I just bought a house."
I was devastated. My parents had been talking about selling our childhood home and moving somewhere more affordable for years now, but I didn't take them seriously. My parents both are still working full time. Their grandkids are here. Plus myriad other financial reasons why I never thought it would happen. But they did it anyways. Before putting up their current house for sale, they bought a house five hours away, in a different state.
Long story short, my parents' plan was to move their belongings and the pets to Indiana, then fix up the first house, put it up for sale, then rent an apartment somewhere in the area so that they can continue to work for the next two years. That is, unless Bruce and I want my old home.
If Bruce and I choose to do this, we would pay rent to my parents, while they continued to live in the house during the week for work. After two years, we would have the option to buy the house. Right now, it's worth more than we could afford. However, for the two years we would live there, the rent and bills would be fairly comparable to what we pay for our mortgage and everything here. Also, our neighbor in the unit attached to ours just sold her place for a significant amount more than we paid, so we stand to make a nice profit. There are so many angles to consider, financially. We want to be smart about this, so tomorrow our former real estate agent whom we trust completely is coming over to talk with us. We plan to pick his brain about renting-to-own, and his thoughts on what we'd need to do to sell our townhouse.
I love it here. In the four (!) years we've been here, since living with my in-laws, I've come into my own again as a person, and also as a mother. I have two girls now, and feel more confident than ever in my role as their parent (though I still feel like every day I'm winging it). I'm writing again, pursuing passions that were long hibernating. I run the writing group at the local library and still work part-time for the house museum in the next town over. I feel part of the community here. Plus, I love our little house, the size of our bedrooms, the backyard where we have vegetables growing and flowers blooming that started off as Mother's Day gifts. I love that we are so near to everything, just a street away from the doctor, dentist, Aldi, movie theater, gas station, restaurants. There are so many things about this house that I cherish.
I don't like that we have pretty much no front yard. Our driveway is shared with another unit and runs alongside a gravel drive to the apartment building next door. I don't love that my neighbors are right next to us, and all day long people everywhere are coming and going, often loudly with their spinning tires, souped-up pickup trucks, and revving motorcycles. When any of the neighbors smoke cigarettes, we can smell it. On hot days, the KFC nearby permeates the neighborhood with fried chicken smell. I tell myself that if we still lived in Chicago, we would deal with those kinds of things, and more, but truthfully, when Emmie's preschool friends' parents ask about a playdate, I usually suggest going to their house. I never considered this our forever home.
My childhood home is the complete opposite. It has a huge yard, bigger than we would ever need or want under other circumstances. There are weeping willows lining a creek that runs through the back. Past the creek, a farmhouse sits on a hill, and cows roam free on the property. The sunsets are incredible. We wouldn't even need curtains because the neighbors are so far away. It has room for me to have my own study/office, which is the one thing I would have wanted in a new house. There's a wraparound porch with a swing, on which I've had many happy times. Outside my old bedroom, a huge oak tree rises into the sky. I brought it as a sapling from my family's very first house and planted it there. Nearly 30 years later, it is tremendous. We always had a horse, and though I can't ride, I relished the sight of a steed in the pasture, swishing its tail. My childhood there was spent playing outside in nature from dawn to dusk, without a care. When I got older, and discovered Jane Austen, I pretended I was an English girl like Elizabeth Bennet, taking a stroll in the countryside.
I would love to give all that to our girls.
Now, I know that a kid doesn't need any of that to have a good childhood. I'm reading Born a Crime by Trevor Noah, and he describes growing up in South Africa, the complete destitution, violence, and injustice that he endured, but he tells it with such love, because he had a strong, loving parent to raise him up. If we have love, we can make it through with little else. His story reminds me to not take anything for granted. We have so much privilege.
The main factor that is driving Bruce and I towards making this choice is the school district. The schools here are just okay. We were fine with that when Emmie was a toddler, and we couldn't afford anything else. But this fall she starts kindergarten. It's all getting real now. The schools where Bruce and I grew up are a 10/10. As a college instructor, after many years of experience, I can honestly say that I see the difference in general writing skills from kids in the different areas. If we move Emmie now, she has the chance to build a foundation there. I think to myself, what would an immigrant do? If you've come to this country to give your kids a better life, you get them in the best school district and area you can manage. On this front, the choice is clear.
Then there's this: Bruce's 60-mile commute would be reduced to 36 miles. That's a 48-mile per day savings, which means fewer tolls paid, less gas consumed, less wear-and-tear on the car, less time driving, more time with us.
So many other reasons. Many of our friends live there, not to mention our families. We'd have a built-in support system. I have a steady job there (more on that later). More restaurants and culture. A more liberal mentality. The politics thing, it shouldn't be an issue, but it is. I won't deny it. I want our kids to be open-minded, accepting, and critical thinkers. Sure, they can be that anywhere, but I prefer for them to be surrounded by good examples in their community if they can be.
I woke up early to write, and sure enough, Emmie woke up not long after. It's the Curse of Mother's Free Time. Its's like Murphy's Law. If the kids can come in the way of you getting something done or doing something for yourself, they will! Want to hang out with friends? Suddenly your kid has a fever. Wake up and sneak downstairs? There's your kid, rubbing her eyes and asking for breakfast!
So this will be a To Be Continued post. I haven't yet discussed the negatives of living with my parents, though I'm sure you can imagine some of them. What do you think, reader? Do we move in with our in-laws... again?
