Essay 1

Gladys Corona

English 1A

Professor Rogers

September 24, 2012

On Our Own

Being on our own was the right and responsible thing to do. My boyfriend, our son and I were finally moving out of my parents house after a year of living with their support when we needed it. Now I was off to a whole new experience of living on my own with my little family of three. "We'll be okay!" my boyfriend would tell me, but I couldn't help feeling a massive mixture of emotions that were contradictory. I was excited and wanted to leave my parents house to start a new warm home for my son and become more independent and responsible. The fact that I would be able to do as I please in my house was also a reason to look forward to the move out day. On the other hand I was nervous and scared of going off on my own to manage a household. I would have no help cleaning, cooking, and grocery shopping. At my mom's if I did not feel like doing something I would simply not do it because I had in mind that either my mom or one of my brothers would get to it sooner or later, now its only me and my boyfriend trying to do our best and help each other with anything needed because if we leave things for "later" they add up and we end up doing more.

On Thursday January 5 of 2012 my boyfriend and I went to the leasing office of the apartment complex we had chosen to move into. Walking into the office I asked my boyfriend, "Are you still sure of moving in, because I want to be completely sure of taking this step?"

He just said in a sarcastic way, “Hell no I don't want to move in”, followed by a giggle,”I'm just kidding I do want to move in, it's about time we made this decision don't you think?"

"Yes it was about time for the both of us to get out!" Signing the paperwork made me feel like what we had been talking about for weeks was actually coming true; it was like a reality check at that moment. It took about half an hour to get through the process of signing and understanding the never-ending lease. At the end when the lady stood up, walked to her office and brought us our keys I was speechless and I could only smile.

"Here are your keys to your new and first apartment." she said.

"Thank you!" we both replied with a smile that stretched all the way to our ears. My boyfriend and I made eye contact while our son simply looked up at us wondering what was going on and a huge and tight hug with our keys in hand was our first reaction. This moment had much meaning to us because we had been planning and discussing it and finally it came true to have our own place with our son. There was one simple detail (not so simple) about the apartment that we did not like and we had to get used to; it was on the third floor. On grocery days or even a normal day to get our son upstairs was going to be a constant dread, almost like trying to get out of bed on a cloudy, rainy, and cold December morning. Of course the stairs are known to help our cardio health but when we are tired of a long day and trying to go home and rest the health part does not cross our minds at all, we hesitate to start the long and constant heavy lifting of our feet, it's like we are carrying rocks and bricks every time we go all the way up the prolonged stairs.

At around two in the afternoon with our keys in hand we got in our car and headed back to my parents house where we had to finish packing what was left in my room. I found it funny how as I cleaned my room I tripped several times over what looked like a mountain of belongings that would never shrink in size.

Once my boyfriend and I finished putting everything in boxes and then in our car we were ready to take all our belongings into our new and first home. As we arrived to our apartment I immediately grabbed as many things as I could and headed to the stairs. I initiated the climb up the stairs. Reaching the second floor my legs began to feel warm and tense, once I arrived at the third floor and faced my apartment door I felt the sense of relief and took a deep breath. When I opened the door my home looked like a white box, but I knew that would change as soon as all my furniture and decorations were installed and into place. I was finally able to make my own decisions about what went in and out of my house or which colors I liked on the walls and which colors I did not.

After I set the things down in the living room I headed back out for the next trip. Once I was downstairs I arrived to what seemed to be the worst scene, “oh gosh, today will be the longest day of my life” I said to myself when I saw that the car was still full of things and it looked like we would never finish moving in. All I could do at that moment was to remind myself to “think positive”. Although I was eager to finish and relax I knew the more I thought about it, the more this day would slow down and the mountain of our belongings in the car would not shrink.

Later my boyfriend called two of his friends to help him bring up the furniture and all the other heavy objects like the fifty-inch flat-screen television, the queen size mattress along with the bed's wooden headboard and footboard, the television stand, two nightstands, our black kitchen table and chairs, and our sons twin mattress and blue bed frame. Just like me, my boyfriend and his friends were eager to finish as quickly as possible so they took no breaks. I, on the contrary took many breaks while I saw them go up and down hardly having a chance to breathe, they are always bragging about how they are hard working men so I let them prove it in front of me. Of course they would continuously give me the mean look so I would help them by taking a couple more things upstairs like the big lamps that would go next to the queen bed or a pile of clothes.

By the sixth trip my feet and thighs were starting to burn even more but when I would arrive to the third floor I felt like we were closer to finishing. Going downstairs was the easiest part of moving in, I had nothing to hold in my hands and my legs felt no effort whatsoever. Taking a pause and starring at the stairs before proceeding back up became a hobby for me.

At last after five exhausting hours we were all starving and my boyfriend and I missed our son. We agreed that I would pick up my son from my parents house while the guys brought something to eat from “Popeyes” the restaurant that had recently opened. It was already dark and really late at night when we had our first meal in our apartment. It was the best meal ever for our growling stomachs and after a busy day. While eating we noticed our one year old son was not in the living room where he was playing while eating his crunchy chicken drumstick. We walked over to the room to look for him and he was playing with an empty box, sitting in it quieter that ever while eating. We immediately smiled and went over to play with him. We ran in the apartment and made the best of it before having to arrange our things into place. I could tell my son was going to love living with his mom and dad only in a place he could call home. After playing we each took a shower and prepared everything to sleep in our apartment for the first time. Even if it was a mess with all the unorganized stuff we still decided to stay there and watch “Looney Tunes” movies until we fell asleep.

Our son was the first to take a bath, then my boyfriend, and I was the last one. When I walked out of the bathroom the queen size mattress was in the center of the living room floor, the television was set up on the floor as well and connected to the blue-ray system. Everything was ready the only one missing in order to start the movie was me. It was the perfect moment and perfect time for the three of us to cuddle since it was cold and rainy outside. We pulled the comforter up to our shoulder, lay on our pillows, and we pressed play on the control. That was our first night in our apartment and it was one happy and memorable night.

The next morning our son woke us up when he began to jump on the mattress and of course jump on us too. He woke up with an excessive amount of energy just like a hurricane while my boyfriend and I woke up sore and in need of a concentrated coffee. We all brushed our teeth and then changed clothes to then head over for breakfast at my parents house. “How was the first night?” was my parents first question. I could tell in their eyes they were happy for us or maybe they just wanted us out of their house already, I don't know which one but they seemed really supportive like always.

“The first night was great” I replied and I went on telling them of our movie night in the living room and waking up to our son jumping on us.

“Today is going to be another busy day for both of you, isn’t it?”said my mom.

“Ugh yes, I don't even want to open the door to the apartment because I know we have work to do in there” I said.

We went back home after breakfast and began organizing and deciding where everything would go. Our son was also helping us by putting his toys and books in his toy box. Organizing everything took us the whole day and adapting to our new place took a few weeks. Both my boyfriend and I feel like getting an apartment together was the right and best thing to do for our son and ourselves. It is definitely an experience that we will always remember.