Today, I'm going to go a little lighter and be thankful for my home. But first, I'm going to take you on a journey of the homes that my Hubs and I have lived in together. Be warned, this is long (but did you really expect anything different from me? LOL)
When Hubs and first lived together, it was in a teeny little flat on the second floor in a group of six. Oh, how I hated those stairs! We had a communal wash room and clothesline but the washing machine the flats owner provided was a very, very small twin-tub. The type that could fit three towels (if you were lucky) and then you had to pull the sodden lump of washing out by hand, put it in the smaller attached tub to spin it. I can only thank God that we did not yet have children - it was hard enough washing our own clothes! Eventually we were gifted with a small twin-tub washer of our own, just small enough to fit in our bathroom upstairs. We still had to cart the washing downstairs to hang it (no dryer) but that was more than made up for by the appeal of being able to wash clothes in your pyjamas, LOL.
This little flat was really tiny. It had just four rooms - two bedrooms, an open kitchen/living room, and the bathroom. Hubs had moved away from home into a shared unit with friends and when he moved a few months later, this was the first place he'd ever lived on his own. The rent was a paltry $95 per week. I moved in with him and brought a few pieces of furniture. The rooms were so small we had a dresser as a TV unit :). A week after I moved in, Princess Diana died. It was ours, that first nest. We had some awesome times for the six months that we lived there. We shared expenses and we shared lives.
After a while, two people living in such cramped quarters gave us itchy feet. I longed to switch to a new rental, something that we would seek together - I'd always had this niggly feeling that I was 'rooming' with him in the flat, given that he'd lived there alone for several months and his name was on the lease. We found a small duplex (but still larger than the flat) and in the process upgraded to THREE whole (small) bedrooms (LOL). And a backyard. It was delightful, that little place. Nothing particularly special, but the front windows were criss-crossed like a noughts-and-crosses game and I remember thinking when we first drove up to the place that it reminded me of old English novels - the only thing missing was the frost in the panes, LOL. And it had hardwood floors. And a BATH. I was in hog heaven, even if we did share a common wall with a single mother and a young daughter living next door. It was here that we conceived our first child, Master J, and continued to live until he was 9 months old. Our rent was $110 per week here.
It was around this time that Hubs learned of an opening at a Blockbuster store in the city (Hubs previous life was that of a Blockbuster clerk, LOL, and we'd previously lived in a more rural setting). We'd been anxious to get out of our far-from-most-civilisation town for a long time - I was longing to get married but neither of us really wanted to until we had become more settled in an area we intended to raise our kids. On a Friday afternoon after work, we packed up Master J and drove five hours on a whim down to the city to meet with the store manager. Hubs got the job. We drove five hours home, gave notice at the old job, began arrangements for moving, and were back the following weekend to look for a new place to live. We had 2 days, maximum. Our ducks had to line up. Just when we thought we were going to have to turn down the job after all, a real, honest-to-goodness house opened up. The rent was higher again, at $135 per week (are you seeing a pattern here? LOL) but the house was just about the nicest, most modern house that I'd ever lived in. Easily twice the size of the first little flat, and with a seriously massive open plan living area, three bedrooms, modern bathroom - I must admit, I swooned. Master J would have an awesome backyard to play in, and there'd be plenty of room for future kids. And best of all, it was in an area I could actually see us settling in for the long haul. Lease signed, we moved a few weeks later. Suddenly we were close to all the mod-cons suburban life affords. I shopped alot, LOL. It was wonderful to be close enough to family to visit more regularly and we began to plan our wedding.
We were originally planning to elope to Bali. We'd already been living together for two years at this point and neither of us felt the need for a large wedding (I'm not saying I'd advocate this course of action (of living together unwed) if I had my time over again, LOL, but this is the way it was for us in the beginning). It wasn't a very popular decision, I have to admit - my mother was a teeny bit upset, LOL - but we pressed on. And then I discovered I was pregnant with Boofah. J was about 11 months old. We thought about cancelling the wedding but eventually decided to go ahead with it, with us due to fly out when I was 21 weeks pregnant. My MIL made my wedding dress, we purchased all the necessaries (rings, suit, etc) and we were off.
Long story short, we didn't get married in Bali. If you've ever been to Kuta, you'll understand why - it's just not what my wedding dreams entailed. However we had a wonderful time on our 'pre-wedding-honeymoon' and my baby bump was a constant source of amusement to the locals and other tourists alike. It's very interesting to realise that the world over, childbearing connects women in a way that men will never understand. I had hands laid on, blessings given - it was awesome. Later, it made us so sad to hear of the bombings in Oct 2002 (2 ½ years after we'd been there) and to think of the pain and suffering of the people. We'd spent many nights in Paddy's Pub with newfound friends (me not drinking of course). We'd stood on the very same spot that would later be a shrine for evil. Tourism after the bombings shrank to non-existent. We'd travelled in 2000 on a ridiculously cheap price after the issues in East Timor - $820 ea for flights, 11 nights accomodation and daily breakfasts. The prices had risen since we'd been, but the Bali bombings a couple of years later completely desecrated the tourist trade for a long time. When we'd been talking of marrying over there, we'd arranged through a company to have a driver take us to the embassy to chase up the necessary legal stuff once we'd arrived. When we eventually decided not to go ahead with it, we ended up hiring this same driver to take us on a tour of the country's inland areas. It is a very, very beautiful country - and inland is so different to Kuta! We paid him, from memory, 120,000 rupiah which was worth about $40. This was his average income for TWO MONTHS. So you can see why the bombings were so devastating for the people - their means of survival, ie, tourists, just stopped coming for a long time.
Anyway, back to the story, LOL...
Back at home, in due time we gave birth to Boofah. Four weeks after he was born, another window of opportunity arose in the form of a promotion (yeah, at Blockbuster...it does happen you know! LOL) at another city store. So we moved again, into a beachside suburb. The house was slightly less nice than the last house and the rent was higher ($160 per week). But that house was special to me because we raised our boys there. It was from this house that I was finally married (this pleased my mother no end!), from this house that we conceived our longed for daughter, from this house that I considered a homebirth (my overly cautious husband put the kybosh on that one, LOL), from this house that we bore tears after Master J's diagnosis and from this house that we eventually saw my Hubs' awesome career change. We were there for five years. Master J started school nearby. I watched Hubs really soak into this new direction in his life. He'd had this new job as a goal for a long time and I was so proud to see it come to fruition for him. He really was an inspiration :)
Almost 2 ½ years ago, the kids were then 6 ½, 5 and 3 ½, and we realised a dream by buying our first home. We had saved so diligently beforehand it was scary, LOL. We've never been able to replicate it since! Of course that might have a small amount to do with the fact we're now paying twice on a mortgage (by choice) than we paid in rent at the last house! I've watched Hubs' job increase to the point where he's well respected, well liked and well earning. We live comfortably, and as I pointed out last week, I'm so grateful for that. This house that we're in now, is just perfect for us. It took us many houses before we found our 'home'.
I've been reading a really interesting series over at Millionaire Mommy Next Door about the pitfalls of home ownership. In the series, Millionaire Mommy subscribes to the philosophy, through her research and her own life, that home ownership can actually be detrimental to your financial freedom. There are some interesting thoughts going on there, none of which I've been able to disprove (anyone with a mortgage and the whole home maintenance circus will know that she's spot on the money, LOL) but for me, this issue of owning a home goes so much deeper than a financial bottom line. I grew up in rented homes. I had parents who moved alot. While I don't consider the life I lead to have been particularly horrendous (it was actually quite lovely), I do know I got to adulthood knowing that if it was humanly possible on my part, I'd do whatever I could to stabilize my kids' school years so that they didn't have to change schools. I also really wanted the opportunity to put down lasting roots in an area, to be a part of a larger community, to know my neighbour's name and the names of their grandkids, and to present a generally solid foundation for my kids. I grew up knowing from my past experiences that there was nothing that was strong enough to hold a family in one spot, that if renting, a couple of weeks notice is all you need and then you could be gone from a life, friends and extended family. This happened more than once. I didn't necessarily think I was walking to my doom, but I sure understood that I'd be in for that whole nasty 'starting a new school/making new friends/getting used to a new place' rigmarole all over again. And I had it GOOD - my siblings, 7, 8 and 10 years older than me, had it far worse, sometimes moving three times a year. I was lucky that by the time I got to high school my parents just had me at home and were far less inclined to rush off to find the next job.
Some might say that you can absolutely build this connection with a community just by renting and yes, you sure can. But my own opinion was that home ownership was a goal for me, and it was going to be a way to show my kids that this little sphere we were creating here at home was rock solid. The friends you have this week will probably (hopefully barring any schoolyard scrapes!) still be your friends next year. Or the year after. You might even go to university with friends you made in kindergarten. This was very important to me. So this house that we're in now, this home, is our family's rock and refuge. Even if (and it is somewhat likely, given the nature of Hubs' job) we end up moving at some point, it won't be the 'here, there and everywhere' arrangement that I had growing up. We have a personal goal to have paid our home off (moderately expensive suburban family home standard) by the time our middle son goes to university, or roughly around the age of 40 (I'm 28 and my Hubs is nearly 30, so that's about 11 or so years from now). If I can do that without working, then I'll be supremely thankful, LOL, but I suspect in order to meet this goal I'll have to work part time, perhaps from home, at some point. I'm okay with that :)
Good grief, this is probably the longest post I've ever done :P I've only been blogging every couple of days lately and so when the 'bug' hits, it hits BIG, LOL.
My point is this. To me, a home is so much more than bricks and mortar. In my case, a purchased home meant I was giving my children the stability I never had growing up :)
For more Thankful Thursday participants, see Crystal's blog this week. Crystal will be hosting Thankful Thursday for the next few weeks for Iris at Sting My Heart :)
Cheers,
Lizzie
When Hubs and first lived together, it was in a teeny little flat on the second floor in a group of six. Oh, how I hated those stairs! We had a communal wash room and clothesline but the washing machine the flats owner provided was a very, very small twin-tub. The type that could fit three towels (if you were lucky) and then you had to pull the sodden lump of washing out by hand, put it in the smaller attached tub to spin it. I can only thank God that we did not yet have children - it was hard enough washing our own clothes! Eventually we were gifted with a small twin-tub washer of our own, just small enough to fit in our bathroom upstairs. We still had to cart the washing downstairs to hang it (no dryer) but that was more than made up for by the appeal of being able to wash clothes in your pyjamas, LOL.
This little flat was really tiny. It had just four rooms - two bedrooms, an open kitchen/living room, and the bathroom. Hubs had moved away from home into a shared unit with friends and when he moved a few months later, this was the first place he'd ever lived on his own. The rent was a paltry $95 per week. I moved in with him and brought a few pieces of furniture. The rooms were so small we had a dresser as a TV unit :). A week after I moved in, Princess Diana died. It was ours, that first nest. We had some awesome times for the six months that we lived there. We shared expenses and we shared lives.
After a while, two people living in such cramped quarters gave us itchy feet. I longed to switch to a new rental, something that we would seek together - I'd always had this niggly feeling that I was 'rooming' with him in the flat, given that he'd lived there alone for several months and his name was on the lease. We found a small duplex (but still larger than the flat) and in the process upgraded to THREE whole (small) bedrooms (LOL). And a backyard. It was delightful, that little place. Nothing particularly special, but the front windows were criss-crossed like a noughts-and-crosses game and I remember thinking when we first drove up to the place that it reminded me of old English novels - the only thing missing was the frost in the panes, LOL. And it had hardwood floors. And a BATH. I was in hog heaven, even if we did share a common wall with a single mother and a young daughter living next door. It was here that we conceived our first child, Master J, and continued to live until he was 9 months old. Our rent was $110 per week here.
It was around this time that Hubs learned of an opening at a Blockbuster store in the city (Hubs previous life was that of a Blockbuster clerk, LOL, and we'd previously lived in a more rural setting). We'd been anxious to get out of our far-from-most-civilisation town for a long time - I was longing to get married but neither of us really wanted to until we had become more settled in an area we intended to raise our kids. On a Friday afternoon after work, we packed up Master J and drove five hours on a whim down to the city to meet with the store manager. Hubs got the job. We drove five hours home, gave notice at the old job, began arrangements for moving, and were back the following weekend to look for a new place to live. We had 2 days, maximum. Our ducks had to line up. Just when we thought we were going to have to turn down the job after all, a real, honest-to-goodness house opened up. The rent was higher again, at $135 per week (are you seeing a pattern here? LOL) but the house was just about the nicest, most modern house that I'd ever lived in. Easily twice the size of the first little flat, and with a seriously massive open plan living area, three bedrooms, modern bathroom - I must admit, I swooned. Master J would have an awesome backyard to play in, and there'd be plenty of room for future kids. And best of all, it was in an area I could actually see us settling in for the long haul. Lease signed, we moved a few weeks later. Suddenly we were close to all the mod-cons suburban life affords. I shopped alot, LOL. It was wonderful to be close enough to family to visit more regularly and we began to plan our wedding.
We were originally planning to elope to Bali. We'd already been living together for two years at this point and neither of us felt the need for a large wedding (I'm not saying I'd advocate this course of action (of living together unwed) if I had my time over again, LOL, but this is the way it was for us in the beginning). It wasn't a very popular decision, I have to admit - my mother was a teeny bit upset, LOL - but we pressed on. And then I discovered I was pregnant with Boofah. J was about 11 months old. We thought about cancelling the wedding but eventually decided to go ahead with it, with us due to fly out when I was 21 weeks pregnant. My MIL made my wedding dress, we purchased all the necessaries (rings, suit, etc) and we were off.
Long story short, we didn't get married in Bali. If you've ever been to Kuta, you'll understand why - it's just not what my wedding dreams entailed. However we had a wonderful time on our 'pre-wedding-honeymoon' and my baby bump was a constant source of amusement to the locals and other tourists alike. It's very interesting to realise that the world over, childbearing connects women in a way that men will never understand. I had hands laid on, blessings given - it was awesome. Later, it made us so sad to hear of the bombings in Oct 2002 (2 ½ years after we'd been there) and to think of the pain and suffering of the people. We'd spent many nights in Paddy's Pub with newfound friends (me not drinking of course). We'd stood on the very same spot that would later be a shrine for evil. Tourism after the bombings shrank to non-existent. We'd travelled in 2000 on a ridiculously cheap price after the issues in East Timor - $820 ea for flights, 11 nights accomodation and daily breakfasts. The prices had risen since we'd been, but the Bali bombings a couple of years later completely desecrated the tourist trade for a long time. When we'd been talking of marrying over there, we'd arranged through a company to have a driver take us to the embassy to chase up the necessary legal stuff once we'd arrived. When we eventually decided not to go ahead with it, we ended up hiring this same driver to take us on a tour of the country's inland areas. It is a very, very beautiful country - and inland is so different to Kuta! We paid him, from memory, 120,000 rupiah which was worth about $40. This was his average income for TWO MONTHS. So you can see why the bombings were so devastating for the people - their means of survival, ie, tourists, just stopped coming for a long time.
Anyway, back to the story, LOL...
Back at home, in due time we gave birth to Boofah. Four weeks after he was born, another window of opportunity arose in the form of a promotion (yeah, at Blockbuster...it does happen you know! LOL) at another city store. So we moved again, into a beachside suburb. The house was slightly less nice than the last house and the rent was higher ($160 per week). But that house was special to me because we raised our boys there. It was from this house that I was finally married (this pleased my mother no end!), from this house that we conceived our longed for daughter, from this house that I considered a homebirth (my overly cautious husband put the kybosh on that one, LOL), from this house that we bore tears after Master J's diagnosis and from this house that we eventually saw my Hubs' awesome career change. We were there for five years. Master J started school nearby. I watched Hubs really soak into this new direction in his life. He'd had this new job as a goal for a long time and I was so proud to see it come to fruition for him. He really was an inspiration :)
Almost 2 ½ years ago, the kids were then 6 ½, 5 and 3 ½, and we realised a dream by buying our first home. We had saved so diligently beforehand it was scary, LOL. We've never been able to replicate it since! Of course that might have a small amount to do with the fact we're now paying twice on a mortgage (by choice) than we paid in rent at the last house! I've watched Hubs' job increase to the point where he's well respected, well liked and well earning. We live comfortably, and as I pointed out last week, I'm so grateful for that. This house that we're in now, is just perfect for us. It took us many houses before we found our 'home'.
I've been reading a really interesting series over at Millionaire Mommy Next Door about the pitfalls of home ownership. In the series, Millionaire Mommy subscribes to the philosophy, through her research and her own life, that home ownership can actually be detrimental to your financial freedom. There are some interesting thoughts going on there, none of which I've been able to disprove (anyone with a mortgage and the whole home maintenance circus will know that she's spot on the money, LOL) but for me, this issue of owning a home goes so much deeper than a financial bottom line. I grew up in rented homes. I had parents who moved alot. While I don't consider the life I lead to have been particularly horrendous (it was actually quite lovely), I do know I got to adulthood knowing that if it was humanly possible on my part, I'd do whatever I could to stabilize my kids' school years so that they didn't have to change schools. I also really wanted the opportunity to put down lasting roots in an area, to be a part of a larger community, to know my neighbour's name and the names of their grandkids, and to present a generally solid foundation for my kids. I grew up knowing from my past experiences that there was nothing that was strong enough to hold a family in one spot, that if renting, a couple of weeks notice is all you need and then you could be gone from a life, friends and extended family. This happened more than once. I didn't necessarily think I was walking to my doom, but I sure understood that I'd be in for that whole nasty 'starting a new school/making new friends/getting used to a new place' rigmarole all over again. And I had it GOOD - my siblings, 7, 8 and 10 years older than me, had it far worse, sometimes moving three times a year. I was lucky that by the time I got to high school my parents just had me at home and were far less inclined to rush off to find the next job.
Some might say that you can absolutely build this connection with a community just by renting and yes, you sure can. But my own opinion was that home ownership was a goal for me, and it was going to be a way to show my kids that this little sphere we were creating here at home was rock solid. The friends you have this week will probably (hopefully barring any schoolyard scrapes!) still be your friends next year. Or the year after. You might even go to university with friends you made in kindergarten. This was very important to me. So this house that we're in now, this home, is our family's rock and refuge. Even if (and it is somewhat likely, given the nature of Hubs' job) we end up moving at some point, it won't be the 'here, there and everywhere' arrangement that I had growing up. We have a personal goal to have paid our home off (moderately expensive suburban family home standard) by the time our middle son goes to university, or roughly around the age of 40 (I'm 28 and my Hubs is nearly 30, so that's about 11 or so years from now). If I can do that without working, then I'll be supremely thankful, LOL, but I suspect in order to meet this goal I'll have to work part time, perhaps from home, at some point. I'm okay with that :)
Good grief, this is probably the longest post I've ever done :P I've only been blogging every couple of days lately and so when the 'bug' hits, it hits BIG, LOL.
My point is this. To me, a home is so much more than bricks and mortar. In my case, a purchased home meant I was giving my children the stability I never had growing up :)
For more Thankful Thursday participants, see Crystal's blog this week. Crystal will be hosting Thankful Thursday for the next few weeks for Iris at Sting My Heart :)
Cheers,
Lizzie
13 comments:
Wow, what a journey you have been on!
Thank you for sharing it!
Thanks for joining in this week!
Blessings
I really enjoyed reading about your journey.
wow ... what an incredible journey! hubby and I only moved four times since we were married ... quite a tiring experience (all the boxes ... packing and unpacking. lol).
thanks for sharing!
Blessings ...
I too am thankful for my "house"..13 moves in 17 years will have that effect!
You reminded me today to be even more thankful!!
~peace
lori
What a fun post to read!
I agree, being pregnant does connect women in a way men will never understand!
God bless!
I so enjoy owning my own home. I can decorate it however I want and don't have to worry about the owner selling and me having to move... God is so good to bless us with a place to call home.
What a great idea...to review the blessings of each home lived in along the way.
You have been blessed! Your gratitude attitude is contagious.
Diane
Thank you for sharing your 'house' journey. So many blessings to count, so little time...
Thanks for sharing your list!
Yes, A home should be a refuge, a place of security and it is much more than four walls - it is the rock for our children to rest upon.
What a great account of the faithfulness and blessings of God in your life. Thanks for sharing. Blessings on your day.
Lizzie,
You are a blogging queen. Your willingness and openess is a treat.
Now, forgive me if I should already know this but are you the same Lizzie who is at 1peter3?
Lynn -
Yes, that would be me :)
Cheers,
Lizzie
This was a very interesting look at your history.
Post a Comment