Apartment Life

I wrote this a few months ago and never posted it...oops...


We are almost two months into our new living situation, a cozy, two-bedroom apartment in South Charlotte.

So far, things are going well!

We definitely underestimated the amount of time that it would take to downsize while Ben works away from home, and I work at home while keeping Ellie. As of right now, we still have a wall in our bedroom lined with boxes, and just paid for another month of using a mostly-empty, but still needed, storage unit that we had expected to be empty by now.



I'd say our quality of life has improved. There is much less to stress about. For me, staying home with Ellie is such a blessing. There are days where I talk Ben's ears off when he gets home (which isn't always welcomed) because I've spent all day without any interaction with other adults. But I love getting to know her, and noticing all of the little things about her. Like how much she loves when a gentle breeze blows through her hair. How she scrunches her nose every time she takes the first sip from her sippy cup. How smiley she is when she wakes up from her morning nap. Things that I may still notice if I were working, but I get to see more of them staying at home with her.


I won't lie though. There are moments where I get super frustrated with our new living situation. Where I forget why we are doing this and can only focus on the negatives of apartment life.

Like the first week that we were here, when someone hit our Jeep pulling into or out of the parking space next to it, and caused $500 worth of damage to the rear driver's-side door. Or when our fifty-something bachelor neighbors that live below us have parties and the words to the music can be understood through the floor in our living room (they were playing Bruno Mars last night). Or when our next-door neighbors, with whom we share a bedroom wall, play bass-heavy rap music in their bedroom that is so loud that our windows rattle.

Or right now, for example, as I sit on the couch and enjoy a quiet moment while Ellie is sleeping…a neighbor has decided to exercise by running up and down the three flights of stairs. Fifteen minutes and counting y'all. Props to her for the dedication?

This would not have happened at the house. 

Maybe I should have just kept my job.

All it takes is one audible verse of "Locked Out of Heaven", or a few minutes of repetitive stomping coming from the breezeway, and I am too busy feeling disrespected to remember why we are doing this. I get lost in thoughts of doubt and anger and regret.

But then, each time, I am reminded to calm down and refocus.

There is purpose in this.


Like the time that my next door neighbors played their music so loudly, during nap time, and I was already having a hard time as it was getting Ellie down. I was fuming mad. I couldn't believe how rude someone could be. I debated whether I should pound on the wall, call the front office or walk over there, all while thinking about how none of this would be happening in the house…and then I look over at Ellie, who is sitting up, grinning, and dancing to their music. Ellie could make the best of a "bad" situation, why was it so hard for me to?

Now, don't get me wrong. I've pounded on the wall a few times, and I think that it is horribly inconsiderate of my neighbors to play their music that loudly, especially knowing that they are in an apartment and sharing walls with others. I don't understand how people can be so rude and I never will. It's just that when my emotions are involved, I start to doubt all of the changes that we have made.

Is having to deal with loud music really worse than being stressed out and never getting to see my family?


No. No. No.