We moved in with them when we moved back to Brooklyn from Chicago the summer of 2015. We planned to save up, which we did, and buy a house. During that time, we were also expecting our first baby and knew we’d have to make a move.

While we eventually did move out and did buy a house, I want to talk about our reasoning and experience living with my parents.

Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, living with my parents and brother was okay. It was better than okay, actually–it was a pretty neat experience. I hadn’t seen them regularly over the previous couple years because we’d been living in Chicago so it was nice to spend quality time together. However, not having our own kitchen space was a downside and I had a constant nagging feeling of regression. After all, we’d gone from our apartment in a doorman building to my parents’ basement. Of course, I knew it was temporary and we were treated really well so we didn’t have any major qualms.

Ultimately, it was what worked best for our situation and I am grateful my parents were supportive enough to house us. That’s the best thing about the situation — knowing they’re there for us whenever, wherever, and however. I hope I can be as good to my kids as they have been to me, my brother, and my husband.

Would or have you ever moved back with your folks?