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Due to my husband being suddenly made redundant last April, in the summer we found ourselves making a very rapid move up north from the Midlands for his new job in Leeds. This is my (very) delayed blog of our family’s big northern move in August 2015.
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In the space of 3 weeks we have gone from frantic job hunt, to frantic school hunt, (I called well over 50 schools to check availability and only found 3 that had space), to frantic house hunt – After looking at 10 massively
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impractical houses in 24 hours (58 minute walk to school with a toddler 4 times a day anyone???) – and with only a 48 hour window in which to choose and/or find both a school and a house, when we finally came across a rental house a mere 15 minute walk away from our favourite school, the fact that it was a very similar size to a shoe box seemed of very little importance.
On the day of the big move to the rented shoe box… seeing the contents of our 4 bedroom house in the Midlands fit tetris-like into a rented luton van driven by my brother-in-law was
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a feat that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank him for enough! It has however meant that our northern rented shoebox is currently stacked floor to ceiling with boxes. Being the non-wage earner of our parenting team, I have had to waver my right to a wardrobe, and, it would appear, access to any of my clothes – which are currently still packed away in bags and boxes under other bags and boxes – some of which appear to be currently in the basement.
Other highlights of the move involved inadvertently setting the burglar alarm off (that we
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didn’t know we had), and giving the entire street a 20 minute earsplitting bedtime lulaby before it finally turned itself off… (hi neighbours, you’re going to love us, honest!) As if that wasn’t enough, while the memory of the deafening alarm was virtually still ringing in our ears, our youngest daughter was then massively sick. All hands were on deck – to frantically clean both her, and the rented carpet and kitchen floor – whilst simultaneously repeating the silent mantra ”this is not a bug…. this is not a bug…pleeeeeease…. this is not a
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bug”. Normal (unpacking) service was about to resume when, by some means that I am yet to fathom, my mum (who was helping us with the move) managed to slip in some previously unseen sick remnants and had a bad fall. Unpacking was promptly abandoned, cups of tea all round and Cbeebies on the TV… deep breaths…
Everyone is now fine by the way, my mum has a bruise on her arm, and it appears that my daughter had probably just eaten a bit too much. Ugh… things can only get better… surely??
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Vicki - 21 Aug 15
Due to my husband being suddenly made redundant last April, in the summer we found ourselves making a very rapid move up north from the Midlands for his new job in Leeds. This is my (very) delayed blog of our family’s big northern move in August 2015.
——————————————————————-
In the space of 3 weeks we have gone from frantic job hunt, to frantic school hunt, (I called well over 50 schools to check availability and only found 3 that had space), to frantic house hunt – After looking at 10 massively impractical houses in 24 hours (58 minute walk to school with a toddler 4 times a day anyone???) – and with only a 48 hour window in which to choose and/or find both a school and a house, when we finally came across a rental house a mere 15 minute walk away from our favourite school, the fact that it was a very similar size to a shoe box seemed of very little importance.
On the day of the big move to the rented shoe box… seeing the contents of our 4 bedroom house in the Midlands fit tetris-like into a rented luton van driven by my brother-in-law was a feat that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank him for enough! It has however meant that our northern rented shoebox is currently stacked floor to ceiling with boxes. Being the non-wage earner of our parenting team, I have had to waver my right to a wardrobe, and, it would appear, access to any of my clothes – which are currently still packed away in bags and boxes under other bags and boxes – some of which appear to be currently in the basement.
Other highlights of the move involved inadvertently setting the burglar alarm off (that we didn’t know we had), and giving the entire street a 20 minute earsplitting bedtime lulaby before it finally turned itself off… (hi neighbours, you’re going to love us, honest!) As if that wasn’t enough, while the memory of the deafening alarm was virtually still ringing in our ears, our youngest daughter was then massively sick. All hands were on deck – to frantically clean both her, and the rented carpet and kitchen floor – whilst simultaneously repeating the silent mantra “this is not a bug…. this is not a bug…pleeeeeease…. this is not a bug”. Normal (unpacking) service was about to resume when, by some means that I am yet to fathom, my mum (who was helping us with the move) managed to slip in some previously unseen sick remnants and had a bad fall. Unpacking was promptly abandoned, cups of tea all round and Cbeebies on the TV… deep breaths…
Everyone is now fine by the way, my mum has a bruise on her arm, and it appears that my daughter had probably just eaten a bit too much. Ugh… things can only get better… surely??
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A mum of 2 lovely girls - 4 and 2. Not sure why we thought 18 months was a good age gap, but hey, we're coping and the benefits of the close age gap are finally starting to show... through the madness....! We have just moved up to Leeds from the midlands.... life is chaotic!
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