Over the past 7 years I have lived in 10 different homes on 2 different continents. To some this will sound like the ultimate adventure, to others it will seem like a nightmare. Even I can’t decide how I feel about it.
At the moment, having lived in temporary accommodation for over six months with a baby under one, it’s feeling more nightmarish than adventurous. My heart aches for a more permanent home, a place to unpack all our boxes and finally set up a room for my baby boy. I’m sick of sitting on someone else’s couch, using the oddly sized cutlery someone else picked out.
It feels like my life is on hold, that I can’t make any real plans until I’m sitting at my own dining room table.
Another part of me knows this is ridiculous. My happiness does not depend on a piece of furniture from IKEA. My baby makes me acutely aware that time is passing every moment and if I don’t enjoy the here and now I’ll suddenly wake up to an 18 year old son and wonder what happened.
And sometimes I can appreciate the adventurous side of it all. When my husband and I look back over the past few years there are so many stories to tell and so many experiences to remember. “Look at where we were last year and where we are now”, we often say. In retrospect our life seems so full. And that can’t be a bad thing.
I do wonder how our nomadic lifestyle is affecting our baby boy. He has moved house 3 times in his short life and it is clear that this does not go unnoticed. For the first few weeks post move he is clingy, unsure of himself. Who could blame him? Every reference point bar his parents has been changed.
Since I cannot provide him with a constant physical space to call home, I focus on making this family, this life his home. If our little family is together that should be enough. Or rather, my dream house in the perfect location wouldn’t feel like home without my two boys in it.
And then again I feel guilty about getting stressed about something as futile as the lack of shelf space or not liking the colour of the walls. I might feel displaced in our rented house but that is nothing compared to the thousands of migrant and refugee families who literally have nowhere to call a home. I often wonder how they do cope, how hard it must be to create a space that feels even just a little bit like a home in a refugee camp or when you’re being shipped from country to country hoping someone will take you in.
So I take a big breath. Everything is okay. This unsettled period in our life will soon pass and be turned into stories. And my baby is still so small that just being close to his mummy and daddy is home enough for him.
What does home mean to you? If you’re living abroad how do you make your house feel like home?
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Julie from Portugal.
It’s a cliche’ because it’s true – “Home is where the heart is”! 🙂
I was born in Rome, Italy but have lived in Cape Town, South Africa, for most of my life. As a child my parents moved us roughly once a year (for financial reasons). My parents fought a lot and eventually got divorced. The move from Italy to South Africa meant I no longer had my grandparents and other extended family to turn to. Moving for us was always very stressful and unpleasant. My childhood was very unhappy.
All I dreamt of growing up was my own family and a place to call my own. When my son was around 2 years old, we finally moved into our own home (well, the Bank actually owned it as it had a 100% mortgage on it) and it wasn’t a “dream home” by any stretch of the imagination, but it was the only one we could afford at the time. It was meant to be temporary, but we ended up “trapped” there for roughly 15 years because of the mortgage!
Two years ago we finally moved to a house we are proud to call home! 🙂 I guess the moral of this story is not to be in too much of a hurry, all your dreams will eventually come true. Meanwhile just enjoy spending time with your husband and son, it really DOES go past much faster than you can imagine! MY “baby boy” is now 22 years old and lives in Germany!
Hi Julie!
Your baby’s home is where you are! When my daughter was 6 mos., we moved states and left our home and went into temporary housing. I remember that feeling of in between. Now, 7 and 1/2 years later, that time was just a blip.
One thing we did was take a large giraffe wall sticker with us from place to place with us I and put it up wherever her room was. Even when we visited Grandma (she bought the same wall sticker), the giraffe was in her room and that’s how we helped her identify that the room was indeed hers.
Don’t forget to live in the moment — you have big plans, and you will get there!
Jen 🙂
Thanks for the lovely comments. I love the idea with the giraffe. Luckily we recently bought a futon bed which is going to move with us wherever we go, so at least baby boy has the same bed to sleep in. I realise that I will look back on this time as just a brief moment but at the moment it seems neverending!
Hi Julie! Unfortunately I am not always able to read the WMB posts and only now did I realize we wrote about the same issue a few days a part. For some reason I got an e-mail just now (months later! LOL!) saying you had mentioned my post in your blog. Just visited your blog and loved it! I also found out we have more in common than having written about our homes and moving – your having lived in Brazil and my also having worked as a sworn translator! So cool! 🙂