When I go to make an important life decision, I go with my gut instinct…with what feels right.
When it comes to the move, I crunched numbers before even entertaining the thought of moving there, before I’d even seen it. I didn’t want to get invested in something that wouldn’t get us ahead — again. I kind of did that with this house. As beautiful as it is, I didn’t consider important factors, like the fact our car insurance would go up a hundred dollars for moving back to the GTA. Up north, it’s cheaper in that regard. It’s a bigger house, so we naturally used more hydro to heat it (and I’m terrible at leaving lights on). Plus we have air conditioning here, who wouldn’t take advantage of that? Be sticky with heat or comfortable? Shamefully, that’s no contest.
I also based the move on ifs. If Matt gets a full time job making 18 an hour, if we don’t have cable or Internet or anything at all (which was torture and I gave in after a week…if that).
Because our car insurance went up up up, and the monthly bills were more money, and we decided we couldn’t live like pioneers, our budget was stressed to the max.
The last year, as a reality, has been stressful and icky.
When it came to this house, I based it on two possibilities. The first one, on Matt’s working dime (since he got the job), and the second one on just straight disability income.
Either way, we’d be less stressed and less spent. We’d only have to pay rent each month, instead of worrying about the hydro and gas and water bills.
So, I had this knowledge prior to seeing the house. I knew, financially speaking, that it’d be the best bet for us.
When I saw the house and liked it, and wanted it, and when my gut instinct was to look at my husband’s nod of agreement and pull out my chequebook, I felt confident this decision was the best one for our family unit.
Now? I still feel that. But the negativity and worry is seeping in through the cracks of my positivity.
What about Nolan? He’s starting school this September. While we aren’t any further away from the school (possibly even closer), what if the move, sharing a room, and school is too much change to dump on him?
But we can’t miss an opportunity like this. We can’t continue on struggling to pay all the bills here, bills that you can’t “cut back on”. Well, save for me remembering to turn out lights…but that’s just too little too late.
What if they hate sharing a room? I shared a bedroom with two of my sisters until we moved into the house our dad built. I didn’t mind it, actually. We had a lot of fun together playing monsters in the dark and using Kate’s guardrail as a bridge between her bed and mine. That probably wasn’t safe at all, but I digress. Good times were good times.
And why is that even a factor me? Would I rather them share a room, or struggle to buy them new shoes when they need them (as I do now)? Learn to love it kids, this is life.
I want them to have a strong bond. I want them to get along. And they do, most of the time…
But, while I am nervous about this major change for them, I’m also excited. I’m picturing cutesy matching bedspreads and sheets, pirate style! I’m picturing somehow, eventually tucking them into bed at the same time, after reading stories and cuddling.
Obviously, moving is a pain in the ass. Obviously, we are going to have to get rid of a lot of things. Obviously, we are going to all have to adjust and obviously my children won’t magically jump into sharing a room and go to bed without a fight or multiple wake ups right away…but I can dream, right?
I’m looking forward to the purge. I’m hoping to take on a more minimalist lifestyle. We have a massive garden, and my soon-to-be-neighbour is going to teach me how to garden and how to can vegetables. We have a massive yard, with endless possibilities for exploring and playing. Although I’ll likely need to get them a sandbox. They are used to digging in my “garden” (aka garden of dirt).