I love my home….

Yes, I’ve been away for a week and am therefore delighting in the comfort of being in my own environment. But it’s that very feeling that has inspired me to think about the place that I call “home”.

My boys and I moved into this flat 4.5 years ago after a very abrupt breakup with my ex-fiance. We had a week to move out of his house, and, as I had sold my house to move in with him and was not working for income at the time, we had extremely limited options.

My parents had bought their neighbouring flat a few years earlier. The idea was that it would allow them to house overseas rellies and visitors comfortably as well as providing their grandchildren with bedrooms for overnight visits. In fact, they had ended up knocking down connecting walls and expanding into the new flat themselves…. and were enjoying the extra space.

They generously took us in, under the strictest understanding that this was to be temporary.

And yet here we still are.

Part of it is because the boys settled in to their new school so well. Part of it is because I could never afford to rent or buy within travelling distance of that new school. Part of it is because, gradually, we put the connecting walls back in. And part of it is because we’ve fallen into a comfortable pattern of helping each other out.

And now I don’t ever want to leave.

I love the idea of living with extended family, but the reality, initially, was difficult for all of us. It took us a long time to manage how much involvement was “helping” and how much was “interfering”. My parents aren’t young (they read this, so I won’t divulge exactly how not young they are) and are suffering from some increasingly debilitating health issues. I believe that their involvement with my boys helps to keep them motivated and optimistic. And I definitely know that their involvement with my boys helps my boys to develop empathy and respect.

It’s not always a picnic. As their youngest child, I find myself occasionally falling into patterns of behaviour that didn’t become me when I was 16, letalone now that I’m 42. And they would, understandably, prefer to live in an environment without the noise that my boys sometimes make.

But the upside far outweighs all of that.

My boys and I adore them. And my Dad provides a role model to them that DH and my brothers have failed to provide.

And the views rock!