Following on from the siblings thread - did you know you were moving house?

As a very young teenager I helped with the packing up, then when the day came I went off to school as normal, but went home to a different house! And it was a little closer to school as it happens.
But you're right Willow, children weren't consulted about anything at all 'back in the day' - not even what we wanted to have for tea!

I remember being told we were not going on holiday that year because we were moving (Kent to Aberdeen, not just five minutes along the road). I remember we were driving home from being out shopping and I was eating a black cherry ice cream - that was 40 years ago. I was devastated, I had lovely friends I’d grown up with in our lovely village and took a long time to settle in the frozen north - I was quite unhappy and homesick but in those days children were expected to get on with it.

Sibling and I were "moved house" twice as children, (first time with both parents and the second time with one,) and both times we were were packed off to relatives, then we returned to the "new" home. (Pretty traumatic for me, both times.)

I was four and told everyone we were going to live in Egypt. No-one believed me until we actually left. Even on the boat train to Southampton, the other people in the carriage thought I was telling fibs, until mummy confirmed it.

Same here, ladymuck. We flew out though. It was my first time on a plane and I remember I was sick for the whole journey.

We then got thrown out thanks to the revolution.

When I was nine I told my school friends we were going to live in Aden and they didn't believe me because they didn't know where it was (neither did I at that point) Our lovely teacher had been forewarned and devoted the whole lesson to finding it on the globe and talking about the Red Sea and deserts etc.

I think I felt quite important that day.

I see you have the same background as me, Merlotgran. Ruined my education but I wouldn't have had it any different.

Yes, we were told we were moving. Mum, Dad, my sister and I had tea at my Grandma's then walked over the mountain to see our brand new, nearly built house. I was 7 at the time. Wonderful street we moved to. Loads of lovely friends. Sadly we moved again when I was 11. Right out of the country. Still I'm back now.

I was heading for 6, and it was only when an elderly neighbour said to me, "I hear you're flittin' " that I found out.

I lived in the same house from being brought home from the hospital, until I married age 30.

We moved when my children were in junior school. We included them in the house hunting, and the removal.

I had a friend whose parents lived in Aden Merlot - her 4 sisters were born out there but her mum came back before my friend arrived. Back then I had no idea where it was and thought it was in Africa!

It seems to be a generational thing. I did know when my parents were selling up and buying a hotel when I was 14 and was very excited to be getting a bedroom with a sink in it

We moved 4 times after our children arrived and they were involved in the house selling (constantly being told to keep the place tidy in case of viewings) and buying. Similarly our granddaughters were included in a lot of the decision when their parents moved away. Things are so much more open these days - it's hard to keep anything secret!

We moved twice. I knew we were going to but I was sent to an aunt for the first move and didn’t have a say in what was packed. For the second move I was away on holiday and it was good to return to a far nicer house but on neither occasion were the actual moving/packing processes discussed but neither did I ask.

My only move, as a child, was when my mum was ‘bombed out’ in Bootle, but I don’t remember as I was only a baby. My brother was three. Apparently we all slept on the floor in a church hall for several days, and lost most of our stuff in the air-raid. Luckily our landlord also had some houses in the south of Liverpool, and gave us one. So I grew up in a very pleasant area with lots of parks.
When I got married we moved 20 miles to a house near Haydock Racecourse, and I’m still here, 54 years later. My children are much more adventurous. Three live in Australia and the other two have lived abroad for lengthy times.
Parents were very reticent about telling their children anything about what was going on, years ago. I suppose they knew that we would tell our friends, and it would become common knowledge. People were much more private, in those days.

We never moved. Mum and dad moved into the house with my then 3 yr old brother 18 mths before I was born. I moved out to get married in '75 dad died there in '85 and mum moved from there into a care home.
I don't know anyone else who spent their entire childhood/teen years in one home.

I was 14 and so went with Mum to look at a house which we liked and being so naive didn't understand why someone then beat us to it. We settled for a smaller house round the corner.
We moved from a 3 bed semi to what should have been a 4 bed terrace but when the extra bedroom was measured (after signing all the paperwork) it was a couple of inches too short to fit a bed - really a boxroom. So I had to share a bedroom with my untidy sister. The unscrupulous seller had fibbed. He got away with it as he'd persuaded Mum and Dad to use the same solicitor to save money. It wasn't cheaper and he couldn't act against him and for us ifswim. Cunning.
We had to part with lots of childhood toys due to lack of space. Elder brother (who'd left home) got first dibs and got a lot of lovely old wooden jigsaw puzzles. I always hankered after some toys and books. Maybe that's why I have too many books now.

I was born in my grandparents house in Liverpool, my mum took me back, at three weeks old to Cricklewood, London. At age five we moved to Bury, Lancs. At six years old we were in Romiley, near Stockport. At nine my sisters and I were moved to Sutton Coldfield, then at almost twelve, we were back to Crosby, Liverpool. From there, I went to university in Cardiff. My parents moved to Derby and I joined them there after university until I got married. We lived first in St Helens, then Morpeth, then Whaley Bridge then back to Morpeth. Moving house? Water off a ducks back!

LittlemoO I married a serviceman, RAF and we were moved
almost every 5 years. When my children were born, it became more difficult. My daughter was born in Cyprus, and
my son in the Outer Hebrides--Stornaway.
My eldest daughter went to school there, and has often told
me how terrible it was , she would stand in the playground by
herself, as she was "english" and they spoke Gaelic in front of her. We were posted to Honington in Suffolk, where they all
went to school, and then Benson in Oxfordshire.
Now they are adults, they often make me feel guilty, about the many times they had to leavetheir friends, and start new schools.

I didn`t want them to go to boarding school, and be
parted from them, there doesn`t seem any answer.

My grandchildren have been in the same town throughout their lives, gone to the same school, until leaving, it must have had quite an effect on her, determined not to have it happen to them

ayground by

At 5&1/2, I went with my parents to look at a shop with house above.
I knew we were thinking of moving there.
There was a toy red double decker bus, on a desk in the house. I was disappointed when we moved in and it wasn't there.

I remember my brother (4) saying our previous home had been condemned, although we had no idea what that meant.

At 6&1/2 we were moving again and I went with them to a few shops they thought of buying, until they decided on one.

I don't expect any of you to believe this but my sister and I moved house at least 16 times before I was 12 years old - my parents were in "Service" - my mother was a Cook-Housekeeper and my Father was the Chauffeur/Gardener at the "Big Houses" all up and down the North West. I absolutely hated this - sometimes only being at one school for a matter of only weeks, then we were on the move again. I have no idea why my parents changed their jobs so often. I spent a very, very unhappy childhood and never was able to make friends - and one one occasion I was so unhappy at school (aged only 4 and a half) I needed the toilet, and didn't know where they were at this new school, so I walked home (over 2 miles) to go to the loo. There was also another time when I went "home" only to find that I no longer lived at THAT house ..... I had forgotten that we had moved yet again - as I said, I had a horrible childhood .....

My family moved house approximately every 3 years with my father's job. The first time I was only 2y so I don't remember it.
At 5 or 6y all I remember is that we couldn't take my pet tortoise because he was hibernating under the shed, so we left a note for the next people asking them to look after him.
Every time I was told what was happening and was expected to help pack up, especially my own toys etc.
The only time I viewed a house before we moved in was when I was 13y. It was the first time we stayed in the same town so it was easy to go and look. It was also the first time I had my own bedroom and I was very excited about that!

i remember when i was seven coming out of school and not only being told we had moved, but also into the home of my new step mother and step brothers, they had married that morning, not told anyone and i hadn't met her or boys before! It never really worked out although parents stayed married we never settled as a family!

When my mother was 6 and her sister 5, they came with their parents from India to choose a boarding school in the UK.
She remembered being asked if she wanted to go to the school with the two thin ladies or the two fat ladies.
She chose the fat ladies, as she thought they were jolly but in fact they weren't very nice and the children were always hungry.

I certainly knew we were moving house, world war 3 in my family, I was 12, my father had coal dust on the lungs, my parents decided to move from Aberfan to a country village 24 miles away , they waited until i sat the 11+. I had two younger
sisters who were so excited.

A 3 year old couldn’t have thrown more tantrums than I did, my poor parents. My Aberfan extended family wanted me to stay in Aberfan as did I.

An agreement was reached , school days with my parents, Friday evening to Monday morning and school holidays in Aberfan . My poor father spent every Friday evening and Monday morning putting me on the bus and meeting me off the bus , I realised years later I must have hurt my mother, my father born and grew up in Aberfan understood . I hated that country village.

This has never happened to me, but a few years ago my boss bought a new house, and the day before he moved in he asked me to take his elderly father to see the house, as he would also be moving - but he hadn’t been told. The elderly gentleman was perfectly OK mentally, so that was not the reason, but he became very confused shortly after the move - understandably.

I’d been sent to a convent in Devon at 9 and missed my family terribly. My grandmother sent me there as my parents were divorcing.
My father stayed in Germany and my mother moved near her mother in north London. I used to spend holidays with her and my younger siblings.
One day when term was about to begin we went to Waterloo station to tell the nuns I wasn’t going back.
Instead I was put on a plane to Germany to live with my father. At the airport I was met by a strange woman, my stepmother. I was made a ward of court and stayed there for 2 years.
I was asked if I wanted to continue living in Germany but I opted for living with my mother in England.
I knew nothing about plans made for me. A very unsettling time. I now can’t live in the same place for any length of time, surely a legacy of those days.