A New Place

My family used to live in Denver. I went to school there and all my kids were born there. All of a sudden my husband at the time because discontent and was always complaining and wanting to move to Florida. We had a very close community in Denver as my kids had grown up there. I held out for years. One year my husband purchased a house in a small town in southwest Florida. All 7 of us drove down and moved in and lived on air mattresses with our clothes in milk crates for 6 months while he renovated the house. That was a nightmare that is a story for another time, or post. Upon returning to Denver, where our house there had been rented out, after putting things to right and giving it a deep clean, our Denver life resumed. We were so happy to be with our community again and they were happy to see us again. However, that community grew a little too much. First, my sister came to live with us, which was fine because she had lived with us before and we had a 7 bedroom house. She passed away last summer and I’m glad my kids had that close time with her. I had also signed on to host an exchange student so she arrived as well, filing up another of the basement bedrooms. My family was stationed in 3 upstairs bedrooms, the boys sharing one room and the girls another. Then finally a couple came to stay with us! What was too much was that I was still the only one doing any of the cooking, cleaning and child care. So basically I was caring for not just my 5 children but an additional group of 5 adults! I was beyond exhausted. I think it lowered my will power and was a factor in me finally breaking down and agreeing to leave my beloved home and move to Florida. In Florida we were all squished into a 3 bedroom apartment so at least there was no room for anyone else to move in. However, that too became old, and that too is a story for another time.