Abbey House

Chances are those of you reading this blog have heard either Matt or myself complain about our flat. It's small, it's worn down, it's dark, it's dingy and often has a mysterious musty smell to it. We've complained about the ugly furniture, the uncomfortable beds and the size of our rooms (kitchen, bathroom and living room especially). But if you've also spoken to us about our flat, you will also know that despite all our complaining, we don't really hate this flat that much. Well, let me clarify, we definitely don't like the flat. But despite it's short comings, this has been home for the last two years.

It's this flat where Matt and I entered as a newly married couple, where we went from the giddy stages of being first married to learning to live with each other. And function effectively as a family. It's the place where we've gotten into our worst arguments and had our best discussions.

It is in the small, cramped kitchen where I realized I might be able to actually learn to cook after all. It was where I learned to perfect crock pot meals, meatloaf and home made ice cream.

It's this flat where, when returning from one of our long travels, we breathe a sigh of relief, we know it's not perfect, but it it's home.

It's in our living room where we became addicted to X Factor and Britain's Got Talent. It's in this flat where Matt introduced me to the car wreck that is Eurovision.

It is in this flat where I learned I was pregnant. Where I waited anxiously for the stick to change colors. Where I woke up Matt (it was early on a Saturday morning) and told him he was going to be a dad (he smiled, then fell back asleep).

It is in this flat where I suffered from morning sickness, on this ugly couch where I would lay, hoping the nausea would pass.

It's on our ugly couch where I sat, swollen and pregnant. It's where we discussed with excitement our upcoming arrival. Whether it would be a boy or girl, and where we went through a million names. And then went through them again. Where we shared our nervousness about becoming parents. And our dreams for our child. Several times we expressed our anxiety and impatience to meet this new member of our family.

It was on our uncomfortable lumpy bed where I tried to sleep, while being kicked all night while pregnant. Where my husband sacrificed his precious pillow (that he brought all the way from Australia) so I could be more comfortable.

It's on that bed where we came up with the name for our daughter. We didn't want to jinx it then, but we both knew it felt right. And when we saw her, we knew we'd made the right choice.

It was in the living room, on the ugly couch where I finally knew what it was like to go into labor. Where we left, knowing the next time we came back, we'd have one more.

It's the home where we brought our tiny 2 day old daughter. I'll never forget bringing Amelia home. It was a Sunday, and Matt's birthday. Our iconic London black cab pulled up right in front of Abbey Road Studios. Matt got out first, and unbuckled Amelia. I then stepped out, sore and tired. There were tourists there, from somewhere in the south of the US who looked at us with interest as we got out. They'd been taking pictures in front of the studios. They appropriately ooohed and aaahed at Amelia. They gave us some great advice about children and how hard they are but also, what a joy.

It is here in Abbey House that we walked in with our daughter. It is in this small cramped living room where we watched her in wonder while she slept. Looked at each other in panic when she cried. Where we gave her her first bath, first taste of solid food and ice cream.

This flat is where Amelia first met three of her four grandparents. Where she smiled and showed off for them.

This is where Amelia learned to stand, learned to say 'mama' and 'dada' (even if they're not quite directed at us yet). And learned to dance.

It's this flat that Amelia is familiar with. She visibly relaxes when we return here after a long day out. She knows this is her kingdom and here she is Queen.

Yes, there is a lot to complain about in this flat. In one very real way, Matt and I are ready to leave the leaking ceilings, non ventilated bathroom, icky carpets and uncomfortable furniture.

But nostalgia has hit us hard. We're leaving behind a chapter in our lives. We will never have an address as cool or as famous as what we've enjoyed the last two years. We can never claim the famous crosswalk as part of our daily path and look down our noses on the tourists that hold up traffic. We will no longer snicker in satisfaction when the graffiti of Abbey Road Studios is painted over with a fresh coat of white paint, knowing that 'John from New York' believed that his mark would be there forever.

We certainly won't be able to ruin as many tourist pictures anymore.

We've certainly loved living on Abbey Road. We're not even moving too far, just a few blocks away. But despite the short distance, I know there's not enough to draw us back to Abbey Road very often. There aren't any transport links or shops that we need.

But we'll always take the memory of Abbey Road with us. Not in the least because we named our daughter after this iconic place. I can't wait to tell her about her first home, not because she lived in a place rich with history, but because it was our first home as a family. And no matter how many homes you live in since then, nothing quite takes the place of the first.


Thanks Abbey House, you provided some of our greatest frustrations. But you were also witness to some of our happiest moments. Cheers.