moving back home: 18 months on

Last week marked 1 and a half years since we moved in with my parents. In a lot of ways it's gone pretty quickly, but then I think about all the things that have happened in that time - getting married, changing jobs, all the holidays we've been on, and suddenly it feels like we've been here forever. 18 months is a particularly significant milestone as that was how long we gave ourselves to save up and buy somewhere. No, it hasn't happened just yet but I think we're on the right track.

It's been tough, for everyone, especially the last 5 months since the new kitchen was fitted. The kitchen, as predicted, has been the root of 90% of conflicts - the fridge especially (out of date things, "who ate my...", lack of space), which is kind of funny when I think about it, everything comes down to food in my family :) Also, I know I should be thankful that the majority of conflicts are only about the kitchen and nothing more serious! Of course there have been a couple of big arguments about things other than food but I'd like to think I have a healthy, frank-talking relationship with my parents, mitch and I wouldn't have been able to move in otherwise.

There's been a number of benefits to moving home, money saving being the most obvious one, but also a decent shower, the occasional and much appreciated dinner cooked by mum, access and use of a beautiful garden (we all have my dad to thank for that), two gardens in fact if you count my nan's (aka our allotment) too. I also really appreciate the time I get to spend with my parents and sister - small time I call it. A 20 minute chat here, the four of us congregating in the kitchen and having a silly conversation, hanging out in my sister's bedroom for an hour talking about books, watching the bake off with mum, having 'life advice' and 'future plan' chats with dad, making pancakes for breakfast for everyone one random Saturday. It's quite nice being in a full house again.

However, the busyness is also a downside because some days it'd be nice if it was quiet and I didn't have to queue to use the washing machine, or be accused of eating all the hummus or chided for leaving my knitting lying around or nagged for not opening my post. I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to having my own space again. To be able to leave something somewhere and find it there again when I need it. To be able to live out of more than one room! To not revert to my teenage-self and have a strop more often than I'd care to admit! Le sigh.

I am, and will forever be, massively grateful to my parents for taking us in but I'm so so ready to go, sette into somewhere that's mine (or 45% mine) and start to make my 'nesting' pinterest board a reality. Yeah, I'll miss aspects of the madhouse and I suppose in some small ways they'll miss us too but I know it'll be better for everyone once we're gone (my mum can have her drawing studio back for a start!). And hopefully, with any luck (fingers, toes and eyes crossed) we won't have too long to wait...