My family of 5 has been living with my parents since the beginning of the year. I’d do it again, despite the challenges.

In January, our family of five moved from Bright, Australia, to the Gold Coast, where I grew up.

With the rising cost of living, my parents generously offered us the downstairs of their house.

For the first couple of months, they were overseas traveling, then in March, they returned home.

After my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in June, my husband and I decided it was time for us to move into our own place.

There were several reasons behind the decision, but the biggest was that we didn’t want to place any extra burden on my parents.

Sharing their home with three young kids is wonderful in many ways, but it’s also noisy, busy, and adds pressure to their day-to-day lives.

Living with three generations in one household has been a wild ride.

We’ve shared plenty of laughter, created beautiful memories, and treasured the time we spent together.

But, as with any shared living arrangement, there have been challenges along the way.

One of the most stressful parts of living with my folks, who are 77 and 81, has been trying to protect them from illnesses.

Our three-year-old often brings home all sorts of fun viruses from kindergarten, some of which I’ve never heard of before, and trying to stop Mum and Dad from catching them has been difficult.

The low light for me was when I went down with a nasty strain of COVID in May.

Trying to quarantine downstairs without infecting mum and dad was particularly stressful.

Luckily, they escaped that virus, but Mum ended up in hospital with a lung and staph infection later that month.

Sharing a household has been challenging when it comes to privacy.

We always knock before entering a room, but still, you can pretty much hear every conversation through Mum and Dad’s floorboards.

One area that might have suffered at the hands of multi-generational living is the old sex life.

Let’s just say that the bed my husband and I have been sleeping in is about 30 years old, and the bolts could use some grease.

Squeaks and creaks tend to kill the vibe.

My family has always taken the approach that arguments are a healthy part of life.

People have different personalities, beliefs, and ideas about things, so naturally, friction can arise.

On occasion, Mum and I have clashed while living together.

Surprisingly, we haven’t had many disagreements about things you might expect, like household chores, finances, or noise.

It’s just the usual family drama, and we always resolve issues pretty quickly.

My parents own a very affectionate, slightly neurotic Siamese cat named Siam who frequently wakes us up in the middle of the night, meowing at our bedroom door.

If we cave and let him sleep in our room, he has a tendency to repeatedly sit on our faces.

Siamese cats are known to be highly intelligent, and Siam is no different.

At one point, when he realized it was fruitless bellowing at our door, he worked out how to open a cupboard door to sneak upstairs, where he proceeded to drive my parents nuts, meowing at their bedroom door instead.

Our son also suffers from cat allergies, which has been problematic.

No amount of vacuuming, air purifiers, or having cat-free areas downstairs has helped, and the poor kid has pretty much sneezed constantly for four months.

As the move-out date approaches in August, I found myself reflecting on the multigenerational living experience and asking whether I’d do it again.

The truth is, despite the challenges, I absolutely would.

I’ve moved around so much throughout my life, living in more than 20 houses, and while I never imagined living back in my childhood home in my 40s, it’s turned out to be a wonderful chapter.

Just another one of life’s unexpected and beautiful adventures.

Overall, every hurdle was worth it for the precious time we shared with my parents.

The memories we made are ones I’ll cherish forever.