My oldest son, Brandon, moved into the apartment over our garage when he was nineteen. He stayed there until he moved in with his girlfriend, Emily, and her two children at the age of twenty-five. We went through the pandemic, and a crazy thing happened to the housing market: you could sell your house for much more than you paid. With this possibility enticingly bright, we made the decision to combine our two households. The “kids” would sell her house, and all four of them would move in with us. They could save some money for their wedding, and we could help watch the kids through their crazy work schedules. Eight people ranging in age from four to forty-seven were going to make a go at living together.

“Eight people were going to make a go at living together.”

There were many challenges, as one might assume. Where to put all of the stuff was the first. Who was responsible for doing what in the house? Who was responsible for whom? The material objects were not nearly as difficult as one might imagine. Make no mistake, our basement and attic became packed. But we did have a basement and attic in which to store things. The others proved to be a bit more difficult.

Brandon’s now fiance was very used to taking care of her little family. But it became a bit more complicated when cooking dinner was not just for four people but for eight when she attempted to feed everyone. They ate around five o’clock, where we ate whenever we got home, sometimes as late as eight o’clock. Try cleaning up dishes that spread apart as well. It is just a never-ending battle. A battle that Emily, in no fault of her own, soon stopped fighting. 

“The biggest regret I had….”

The biggest regret I had was that my role with the children changed. I was no longer a special treat to them and could spoil them when they came over. They lived here, so we had to have much stricter rules and boundaries. I did not regret seeing Hadley’s big blue eyes peering at me at 5:30 in the morning, asking if I was awake and crawling into bed next to me for a bit until hunger pains won, and we headed downstairs to breakfast. I did not regret the nights I got to read to them, with Nolan shouting out his guesses of what was going to happen next in the story. 

Brandon and Emily got married and found out they were expecting a baby. This made it seem logical to move on to the next phase in their lives and buy a new house together. Eight months after moving in, our house was once again turned upside down as they moved out. Looking back, I am happy that we had that time together. We shared many late nights talking and laughing. We binged many shows together and painted fingernails. We go through much less garbage, and I can keep up with the laundry again, but the house is forever quieter. I wonder if the children will even remember this time of their lives. I will. And I feel very blessed for this experience.

Our experience was overall successful because we managed to:

• Respect each other’s privacy. Mail and packages were set aside, conversations were respected, and we never felt the need to be in each other’s business.
• Allow space to be alone. With that many people, it was important to be able just to find some quiet. 
• Practice patience. Laundry, dishes, and cleaning would all get done when they got done.
• Demonstrate flexibility. With that many people, things came up. The best-laid plan was really a working draft.

Coming home again is definitely not for everyone. But for us, it worked. At least this time!