About 10 months ago, we made the hard decision to sell our first home. With a new baby and two crazy dogs, we were ready for more space. After our plans of building a new home didn’t work out, we ended up buying a little ranch home on 20 acres to renovate. What was supposed to be five months of living with my parents while our new house was built, slowly turned into 10 months. It has been a challenge to say the least.
The idea that living with your parents at 30 years old makes you lazy or a freeloader is what has me so hesitant to share my experience, but I do know that “lazy” and “freeloader” are far from the truth. The “must be nice” comments or the “I wish I could live with my parents” that we get from others come from a very misled place. Living in someone else’s home has its obvious pros, but the cons put a huge strain on your relationship with your parents, spouse, and in my case, my mental health.
Why has living with my parents been challenging at times? Is it a tight space? No, their basement is bigger than our old house and current house we are renovating. Is it just constant chaos with too many people under one roof? Nope, their house is out in the country on 86 acres with a beautiful view — it doesn’t get more relaxing than that. Is it hard to keep up with daily chores? No, my mom cooks dinner every night, helps keep the rhythm of loading and unloading laundry, and is a cleaning machine. OK, so is your relationship with your parents a little rocky? Absolutely not, my mom is my best friend. My stepdad is without a doubt the most loving, supportive, and reliable person I know. To add to the confusion, my son has all the love and attention in the world.
So, what is the problem?
I miss parenting. I miss being the one who comforts my baby when he cries, the one he wants when he feels crummy, and the lap he climbs on to watch TV. I know I sound a little needy and slightly dramatic, but isn’t that OK? I need to feel like his mommy while he is this young because I won’t get these moments back.
Jackson was born a month before the world shut down. My husband and I got to quarantine as first-time parents. We were happy and safe in our small bubble. We had every excuse to just stay home and snuggle our baby. We learned so much in our baby’s first 6 months, and every decision we made was a team effort. We chose what was best for our baby together, no input, no judgement.
The biggest challenge not having our own home now is that it is hard to parent when my parents are parenting me and the way I parent. Don’t get me wrong, I welcome their input and often ask them for it, but because we’re living with my parents, it doesn’t always feel like it is just input.
Oh, and did I mention my husband and I sleep in a room directly under my parents’ room? Not only are my parents our roomies, so is my little 11-year-old brother who has no concept of knocking or privacy. It’s time to get out of their basement.
Let me be very clear. This post is not coming from an ungrateful place. I am beyond grateful for my parents. I love that they still parent me. What many people don’t think about is that parenting is a lifelong journey and something that you learn as you go. I often reflect on how lucky I am to have them by my side and that my son gets to build memories with them. I know that is not a luxury many have, and I know they trust I will always try to do what is best.
At the end of the day, we don’t agree on everything and that is OK. It gives us perspective on life. I can’t thank them enough for sacrificing their space and routine to welcome us into their home. My son has reached many milestones while we’ve been living with my parents.
But, selfishly, I am ready to make those memories in our own home.
