So, Are You Guys Moving?

The question was asked when my husband I married a couple of years ago.  It resurfaced when we were expecting our first child.  And now that we're expecting Cave Baby 2.0, I find myself, once again, responding to well-meaning, curious individuals who seem doubtful that we can possibly squeeze two children into a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom, 900 square-foot home.

In case you're in a hurry and have better things to do than keep reading (which I assume is true of most of us), the short answer is no, we're not moving.  We're not even thinking about moving.  Not even dreaming about it.  Not even glancing over houses we in the newspaper we would buy if we were thinking or dreaming about moving. Call me crazy, but I'm fairly certain we can even fit three children in this home, at least for a little while.  We're not out to prove anything, except that maybe in order for one to be a full-time, stay-at-home parent, especially in 2012, there must be sacrifices made.  In our case, that means living in a sardine can for now.  But that aside, we didn't exactly start out with this great big plan of living small.  

First, my husband and I both give a lot of credit to our parents for ingraining in us the value of frugal living within one's means.  Eric and I were raised differently (continue reading for more on that), but neither of our parents led us to believe that we were the center (or even close to the center.... or even somewhere on the radar screen in the general vicinity of the center) of the universe, which I have to believe must be a priority if one is to combat the cultural, "I deserve only the best" mentality.  Don't get me wrong, I was an indulged little princess.  The older of two girls, 4.5 years apart in age, I grew up with my own room, own bike, my own baby dolls, my own bedroom in the rental condominium at the beach, my own, my own, my own....and so on and so forth until reality finally hunted me down when I started working 40-hour weeks... which, true to princess form, wasn't until I graduated from college.  But cross my heart, to the best of my knowledge and memory, I wasn't the stereotypical bratty, My Super Sweet Sixteen, hasn't ever scrubbed a frying pan or folded a pair of Dad's underwear, type of girl.  As soon as I got that college diploma, I was left to fend for myself (or so I thought, at least).  Nice things and a comfortable lifestyle were to be earned, not expected.  Life owed me nothing.  And that was a hard thing to learn as a young adult, but it's what I consider the single-most important lesson my parents taught.

Eric, on the other hand, is the second oldest (first-born son) of eleven (and counting???) children, ranging in age from 26 years to 10 months old.  Instead of memories of playing alone on his own backyard swing set while belting out the theme song to Sesame Street for all of the neighbors to hear, nearly all of Eric's childhood memories involve one, or two, or seven other kids.... often centering on strange, entirely unrelated objects such as a bag of dominos, a leftover tuna can, and about 40 stuffed animals (all of whom had carefully-chosen names).  By the time Eric was 21 (while I was still living cushy in "Subsidized Adulthood" with a car, an allowance, and a fully-furnished apartment), Eric had worked at McDonald's, a local movie store, and the downtown bank.  With the right guidance from parents and mentors, he was working his way through college, pursing a degree in business... while sharing a room with three brothers, all of whom delighted in fiddling with Eric's laptop computer and filling his bed with Sand Art while he was away :)

So, there's the background on the two of us.  Thanks, Mom and Dad Roszczyk & Cave for not entirely screwing us up.  We're glad we're not sulking over the unrealistic expectations of brand new cars and annual cruises to the Bahamas... while living in your dimly-lit basements, eating corn dogs, and playing World of Warcraft. ;)

Getting back around to the house and why we're staying put.....

Through a bizarre set of divine interventions (or happy accidents or serendipities, depending on your world view), I ended up accepting a full-time teaching position in my hometown shortly after graduation.  Only in the Midwest can one actually purchase a house for less than one could rent, an oddity I came to learn when searching for a place to live...that was not my parents' basement.  At the same time, upon her passing, my great-great aunt left me a small, small inheritance--but enough to cover a down payment on modest 2 bedroom house in an older part of town.  (Note-- this was very early 2008, before the housing crisis and stock market crash.  Had I been house-hunting in 2012, there is no way I would have qualified for the loan).  I settled in well over a year before I met Eric, and so getting married and having children weren't exactly part of my 5-year plan ;)  But we did meet, got engaged quickly, and got married several months after that (another cool, God-coincidence story for another day).

So we're newly married and living in this cozy little house just perfect for two, and surprise...BIG surprise!... baby makes three!  Both Eric and I were raised with stay-at-home-moms, so for us
there was never a gut-wrenching decision to be made on whether we'd rely on one income or two.  We'd turn the office/dressing room/spare bedroom into a nursery... and problem solved.  Finances would be tight, barely doable some months, but we agreed that with responsible, within our means living and careful planning on our part, God would bless my decision to stay at home with our child and provide just what we needed.  And you know what?  God has never once let us down.  So yet again with baby #2, we'll make do.  Even better, we'll be thankful for it and do our best to be good stewards of this home, all 900 square feet of it. :)