So two years later, the husband and myself are still living under my parents roof. It's something we can't be so proud of. So much for Independence huh? Well, we have a pretty good explanation for that but I have to tell you our failed attempt at moving out first.
So two weeks after the wedding, the husband has finally found a house for us to rent. It's farther north from where I work but it's closer to our church and to husband's business. So even though the road leading to the house was an extreme challenge (during that time) because it is still under construction and is almost always muddy, we braved ourselves and rent the said house.
Our first two nights (Saturday and Sunday) are okay. Until the bebe has to go to school which we find out to be extremely frustrating. On Sunday night, it rained really hard so you already know that the road is as expected muddier than it already is. Another problem we see that day is we underestimated the saying "time flies". We wake up at 5:30 but our breakfast is still not ready until 6:30 am and bebe's school starts at 7:30 am. Add the fact that getting a jeepney ride to her school is almost close to impossible if you don't leave early plus traffic is horrible. So our fantasy "bahay bahayan" turned into a nightmare.
Therefore, our living setup return to it's complicated and unconventional state. Since we are living about 30-45 minutes away from bebe's school (that's without traffic), my mom took it upon herself to decide that my bebe would stay with her during the school week and would go home to our own home on weekends. The bebe has no protests with that arrangement since she practically grew up under my mom's care (because I work night shift ever since she is just 4 months old). The setup is indeed weird but I have no choice since transportation and logistics isn't very favorable for the bebe's school schedule.
Anyhow, fast forward three days later (or make that three nights later), a heavy downpour of rain ruined the chances of me loving our new living setup. As I mentioned, the house is farther north from where I work but I was pretty okay with it since there is a direct jeepney ride going to work. It means no more jeepney transfers and I will get off right in front of the office. Plus the husband has one whole week off from work so he is free to give me a lift to work.
On that said night however, it rained really hard and there is no sign of it stopping. So we cannot take the motorcycle out because we'd get drenched in rain plus the husband has it customize to be "lowered" so it will not survive the mud and all the puddle of rain water on the road. That's why we decided to commute. There are no taxis available and the "tricycles" that pass by are always full so we have no choice but to ride a single motorcycle aka "habal habal". We just had our umbrella up so we don't get soaked. Then we transferred on a taxi when we arrived at the main highway. Then for the remainder of the week we are there it kept raining and we just manage to adjust to the unforeseen circumstances.
I tried to take these things in a positive light so I tell the husband that we give the place one more chance because I want it to really work out. We are able to complete one month in the house and we are beginning to get our routines in sync with our living condition.
However, the bebe got sick as we are halfway towards our second month there. I also got sick that time and have always been getting very little (disturbed) sleep. On the day the bebe is having a high fever, I decided not to rush her to the doctor just yet as I am not feeling well myself and I feel too weak to travel from our house to my mom's house to get the bebe and travel again to the doctor. So I tell my mom to just keep giving her meds and we will visit the doctor the next day.
Unluckily for me, the neighbors are having a birthday party and are singing karaoke which wake me up. Feeling sleep has completely escaped me and my cough is not letting me get some rest too, I decided to send the bebe to the doctor. So I call my mom to meet me at the doctor's clinic.
Lo and behold, traffic is at it's worst and when I arrived at the clinic, the doctor has already seen the bebe and the clinic is already closed. This become the (sour) turning point of the whole experience. I decide right then and there that we are going to move back to my parents' house.
Long story short, we get all our things packed and we move back in with my parents. A month after moving back in with my parents, the husband bought his new motorcycle and we have settled in quite easily.
We may have not gotten the independence we want but at least we live with the bebe now and public commute is not anymore something we will be having a problem with. So everything still ends up pretty much in our favor.
P.S. It is still our goal to have a place of our own but recent events have kept our plans in a limbo. My father got sick and I can't just up and leave home because three of my siblings has already moved out of the house and it's just me and the other two younger siblings left to look after our senior citizen parents.
The Failed Attempt at Moving Out
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