When my husband and I first met, we were only together for a few months before I moved in with him. I’d only been living away from my mams house for 2 years when I met him, and hadn’t really accumulated much of my own stuff by this point.
He was still living in the same flat he’d been in when he was a student, and all of the furniture and fittings belonged to the house. We didn’t add much to it, because there didn’t seem to be much point. Once Neil was born, we knew it was time to move out of the student flat and in to something that we would make feel a little bit more homely. We started buying nice furniture, accessories, and general bits to make the place look nice, and I loved it.
The following year we visited my husbands home town in Northern Ireland. We had always planned on staying in Newcastle until the kids were ready for school and then we would think about moving across the water. The holiday over was a big turning point, and he realised how much he wanted to be back in N.Ireland, closer to his family. We set the wheels in motion, and we were moved inside 2 months.
The fast move meant we had not as much time or money to plan things as much as we should have. We couldn’t get a large removal van to do the move on our budget, so most of our stuff ended up in a charity shop or skip. His dad came over in a people carrier with the seats down and moved everything we could fit in to the car, which wasn’t much. It was quite strange trying to condense your whole home in to the back of a car, but it had to be done.
When we first moved, I wondered if I could ever feel at home again. I was gutted to be leaving Newcastle, and while I knew I would be happy wherever my family were, it was still very difficult.
It took us a few months to find a house. In the August of the year we moved, just after my birthday, a house came up a few doors away from my hubby’s dad. It was perfect for us, and we moved in straight away.
For the first few weeks, the place felt a bit bare. Most of our ornaments and artefacts had been left in England, so the only stuff we had in the house was the furniture that was already there. It took a little while, but we soon started to make the place feel likeour own, and it didn’t take long before I realised home wasn’t about being in Newcastle, or having lots of stuff.
|A welcome sight after a long day|
They say home is where the heart is, and that is absolutely true. After a long day at work, the sight of my house as I approach the front gate fills me with joy. Just knowing that in seconds I will be stepping through that front door to the sound of the kids laughing, or squabbling, or just shouting ‘Mummy’s home!’. It’s a feeling that is hard to beat.
I often look through catalogues and magazines at the picture perfect, show-home kind of rooms, with not a thing out of place, and some fabulous décor, but to me, that is what makes a house, not a home. Our house is a bit messy, there are toys everywhere, Caitlin has scribbled on the walls in almost every room, my willow tree ornaments have been glued together more times than I can count, but you know what, I love it!
This house feels more like home to me than anywhere else I have lived, we’ve been here almost 4 years now and we’ve made so many memories here. I’d be sad if we had to move anytime soon, but it wouldn’t be too much of a big deal because where ever my husband and children are will feel like home to me.