House hunting

Not all it’s cracked up to be…

Posted on

Honestly,  I never truly felt like I belonged in the suburbs.

I wore my “mum uniform” with pride, you know boyfriend jeans and white sneakers. I wore a Mum bun, undercut and all, with pride. Heck, I even drove my SUV with a big fat smile on my face.*

It was honestly the dream. We did everything right, we even had a white picket fence for flips sake.

It was perfect. Yet I still didn’t feel at ease. I wanted more, and I knew what that more was.


I wanted to be closer to the city, I have since I first tasted city life when I was 14. The hum of the trams in the distance, 7/11’s on every corner, thick with culture…

So when James got a job in the CBD, it was an easy decision. I mean, he grew up in the thick of it, it’s what I wanted, and it meant we both had an easier commute to work.

Within a month, we packed up our perfect little lives in our beachside suburb and moved to a not so perfect house in the inner north/west.

We traded two neat bathrooms for one cracked bathroom and a tiny toilet. Climate control for a small gas heater and an air conditioner from the late 80s. An ‘easy to maintain’ garden for a concrete slab and an overgrown yard. Heck, we don’t even have a proper wall in our bedroom.

We knew that moving closer to the city would mean we would have to make sacrifices.  I am commuting O over an hour there and back three times a week for kindy, and missing my tribe like crazy. I don’t have a doctor or found my local cafe… One might say it is less than perfect.

But you know what, it’s so much better.

After 9 long years, we are finally and truly home ❤

*Don’t worry, I’ll still proudly be rocking my mum attire whilst driving my SUV- and absolutely loving it!