I’ve wanted to write this blog post for about six weeks. At times, it’s felt like I would never get the chance to write it. But now, after weeks of worry, excitement, nerves, happiness, sadness, anger, disappointment and just about every other emotion someone could possibly feel, I can actually write it down. It’s a long one, I warn you!

This Birmingham born and bred family are moving house…to North Wales.

If you had asked me two or three months ago would we ever uproot ourselves and move 130 miles away from our family and our friends, I would have laughed. I couldn’t visualise living so far away from everyone. Then our situation changed.

It’s a really long story, but basically, the landlady of the house we are in now, after promising that she wanted long term tenants has decided to sell the house after just six months of us living here. We found this out at the beginning of the summer holidays, and as you can imagine we were heartbroken and worried. We’ve moved five times in five years, and we thought we had found somewhere to live that was secure. We were due to go on holiday a few days after being hit with that bombshell and decided to put it out of mind until we came home.

Our holiday, as you know, was to North Wales – in a little village just outside of Prestatyn. We have been on holiday to that area a few times now, and we absolutely love it. We’ve always said that the area is perfect for raising a family but never thought for one minute we would ever be raising our family there.

On the journey I home, I pretty much cried the whole way home, knowing we were leaving somewhere I felt safe to go back to Birmingham – a city that I absolutely loathe and detest – and all the stress of finding a new house. The next day, we started the horrible task of looking for a house and realised just how much we didn’t want to live in Birmingham anymore. It was so much more than post-holiday blues, but a feeling that we just needed to get away. It’s not a nice place to live – it’s dirty, and the areas we could afford to live in are some of the most deprived areas in the country. We phoned my mum and dad that evening to tell them about our landlord selling (we had decided not to tell them until after the holiday) and the first thing my mum and dad said was ‘move to Wales’ before we even said anything. It sounds ridiculous, but that was the point we knew we would do everything in our power to make it happen. We had nothing to lose. My work goes wherever I go, and Graham is out of work at the moment, so no worry about him losing a job. The kids are young enough to adapt to new situations. The next day we booked viewings.

It took us three trips to Wales to find our little bungalow by the sea. We saw many houses, all of which we loved, but like all rental properties, there were at least three or four applicants for every house. Unfortunately, we were always on the backfoot because of me being self-employed and Graham not having a job there immediately. We began to think it would never happen, until the third, and our final trip there.

I’ve never been superstitious, not in the slightest, but since the whole process of house hunting started, I’ve become a nightmare for looking out for signs. It was our third time going there (third time lucky!), we saw a double rainbow (sign of luck!), I heard one of my favourite songs on the radio, that I haven’t heard in years (Ocean Drive by Lighthouse Family – apt or what?) and quite a few other things that told me this house was ours.

It’s been a long process with the referencing, but yesterday we FINALLY had confirmation that we had been accepted, and we pick the keys up to our little bungalow by the sea next week and move in officially the weekend after.

It’s not perfect. It needs a lick of paint. But we are SO excited. It’s a three bedroom bungalow in a quiet little estate, which I think is mostly older people. It’s just outside of Rhyl, which in recent years has had a massive regeneration and is a beautiful place to visit. We have a beach about ten minutes walk from our bungalow, and believe me, we will be making the most of that!

At the moment, I’m just excited, but I know over the next few days it will hit me that I won’t be able to pop around and see my mum and dad, brothers and nan at the drop of a hat. I’ll miss them all a lot, as I will my friends. But…it’s only 130 miles away. It’s not the other side of the world. We can back in Birmingham in a couple of hours, and we will come back at least once a month hopefully to spend a weekend here. A blogger, and I can’t remember who, told me that when she moved away from her family, the time she did spend with them was much more appreciated and special, and I’m holding onto that. My parents adore the area as much as we do, and I know they will come and visit us as well. My mum works in a school so can come and stay a few days in the holidays, which will be lovely. I watched Harrison play with his friends at a party the other day, and I felt sad knowing I’m taking him out of that. I really hope he stays in touch with his besties, but I also know he will make new friends as well.

It’s going to be a huge change for all of us. We will literally only have each other to begin with. They’ll be no date nights or child-free days out because we don’t know anyone in the area to babysit. My dad won’t be ten minutes away when we need something fixing or to borrow a tool.  It’s probably going to be tough at times, but I know, without a doubt, that the benefits of living there will outweigh any negatives. It’s going to be a much better way of life for us all – and I can’t wait to be in our bungalow by the sea.