Decision, Decision..Indecision

Catherine Kennedy-Hawkey - 5 May 16

Since our little boy was born, nearly two and a half years ago, I’ve been incessantly bugged by the same question, should we move out of London? This is obviously in addition to the other incessant questions of, is he eating enough? Is he sleeping enough? Drinking enough? Should he be crawling/walking/talking by now? Is he getting enough stimulation? Is he getting too much stimulation? And on and on… it’s a real riot being inside my head.

I’m a born and bred West Londoner, and a total and utter lover of it. I’ve always been ridiculously, heart thumpingly, proud to say where I’m from. From the rather grimy pubs and clubs of my youth, to the ridiculous shopping once I was earning, and now the endless museums, galleries and wonderful places to take our boy to, it has never ever let me down.

Yes, the countryside is great, the seaside can be beautiful, and I do love escaping to those places every now and then. I breathe the clean air, gaze in wonder and always admire how calm the sea makes you feel, it’s valium for free. But there is a very tragic part of me that literally heaves a sigh of relief as we head back home and see the first towers along the A40. Home.

Aside from it being a pretty undisputed amazing City, it’s super handy when meeting new people:

‘Where are you from?

‘London’

‘Oh, great.’

You never have to have that awkward conversation of trying to explain where you’re from, which is usually always done in terms of how far it is from London.

After thirty-six years here I love it more then ever. My husband isn’t from here and showing him the endlessly impressive sights and beautiful streets makes me fall in awe all over again.

I’d like to consider myself an expert on all the non important/important things in London life; where to find the best cup of coffee, the best English breakfast, the best place for a picnic, oldest pub in London, best view. Or, as is more the case these days, where can you take a toddler on the 400^th rainy day in a row. That’s a lifetime of useless knowledge right there.

But

We live in a lovely area, an area that’s becoming so lovely that its clear we won’t be able to afford to move from a flat to a house for probably at least a decade. Our flat is tiny, which we love, and whilst there is three of us, it is perfect. But should there be more of us, I suspect it may start to resemble a squat. Which based on what the Estate Agents are sending seems to the only thing we can afford, so maybe I should embrace squat life.

The state schools in the area are ok-ish, so we’re considering sending him Private, not something I ever wanted to do, particularly for primary school. Amazing how your own, staunchly held, principles soon waiver once you become a parent.

I chose not to return to my brilliant but time-intensive job after maternity leave. Staying home was the right decision for us, but with mounting living costs it increasingly seems the choice is between returning to full time work and barely seeing our little boy during the week or saying goodbye to London.

So

After months/years of talking about it and going round and round in circles as to whether we should stay or go, we’ve found somewhere. It’s not far from London at all (because everyone that leaves London justifies how quickly they can get back to it). There are lovely houses we can afford (with stairs, actual real stairs), amazing nurseries and schools. Lovely shops, parks, toddler groups, classes, cafés, the lot, everything you need.

Our little boy will have a lovely life, he’ll have no memory of London and no sadness at leaving it. As a parent, I’m almost certain we’re doing the right thing. Almost. As a London girl, it breaks my heart to have to say goodbye. As does the fact he won’t grow up with the pride of being a Londoner. I know once we leave, we’ll never be able to afford to come back, so this will be goodbye forever.

So if someone could just make this grown up decision for me and tell me we’re doing the right thing, then that would be pretty damn smashing. I’ll be sat mainlining the finest sausage, egg and chips London has to offer in the lovely corner cafe down the road until then.

Catherine Kennedy-Hawkey

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