How to save money: What it’s like when your parents move in
Once upon a time, everyone moved out of the family home as soon as they finished school. Now, it’s a case of all in together when your ageing parents move back in and your kids haven’t moved out.
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THE LARGE colourful playground at the end of the quiet cul-de-sac sold the Dietrich-Lahood family on the block of land, but it was the ability to cater for all three generations of their family under one roof that cemented their choice to build their five-bedroom, two-storey home.
Megan and Scott Dietrich, both 39, their children Ellis, 9, and Max, 3, and Megan’s mum, Lyn Lahood, 67, moved into their new Hamptons-inspired, Upper Kedron house in Brisbane’s northwest, just before Christmas.
“It’s funny because we’ve had families say, ‘Oh, you’re so good for doing this for your mum’ and it’s like, ‘What else would I do?’ I wouldn’t want to see her living alone. I’m lucky to have her here so I’m always checking on her, making sure she’s happy,” says Dietrich, a primary school teacher.
Lahood nods. “Living together is just common sense really. You do what you can to help each other … and there’s enough areas in this house for us all to have some space.”
More than four million Australians live in multi-generational households – defined as two or more generations of related adults living together – a figure that is steadily growing.
While most public attention centres on the record numbers of young adults choosing to stay in the family home for longer – particularly in Queensland – they are not solely responsible for this increase; which is, similarly, particularly pronounced in Brisbane.
In the Ellendale housing estate where the Dietrich-Lahood family has settled, five per cent of residents live in multi-generational households.
Lahood and late husband Peter, 71, sold their Gold Coast home and moved into the Dietrichs’ Arana Hills home six years ago, after his diagnosis with rare bile duct cancer, to be closer to specialists and treatment services. After Peter’s death two years ago, the plan was to renovate the older home but contractors asked for quotes suggested a new build was cheaper. The Dietrichs bought the house and land while Lahood, a pensioner, helped with the interior design and furnishings, and contributes to ongoing household expenses. “We did joke that Mum was our own personal Shaynna Blaze, from [TV series] The Block,” quips Dietrich.
Lahood has her own bedroom, ensuite and sitting room on the entrance level, which also contains the open-plan kitchen and living area, main and spare bedrooms, powder room and garage. Ellis and Max’s bedrooms are on the lower level, along with a kitchenette, bathroom, laundry and family room opening on to the pool area.
“We could have had Mum set up downstairs with a little kitchenette and whatever, but she’s got a bad hip,” says Dietrich.
“And my loving son-in-law said, ‘Well, there’s a wide front doorway there, so [paramedics] will be able to get the stretcher out!” adds Lahood. Scott, whose mother and siblings live in NSW, works full-time in IT.
Companionship, emotional support and close family connection – especially between Lahood, Ellis and Max – are the main benefits for the family. “It was really nice that we could move in together because the last few years, when we knew the cancer was back again, we created a lot of family memories; we did things specifically because we knew Peter wasn’t going to be around for very long,” says Lahood, whose son David, 39, a senior insurance manager in Sydney, visits regularly.
“For me, after my husband died, I think I’m lucky to be here because if I was still living down the coast I would be lonely. You don’t get a chance to be lonely here with the kids. Watching my grandchildren grow up is lovely – all the little funny things they do and they say, it’s lovely to be here and part of that.
“They don’t just take for granted that I’m here and I’m the babysitter. But if Megan has to go to school for a function or something comes up unexpectedly, then I’m here.”
Lahood combines picking up the boys after school once a week with volunteering at St Vincent’s Private Hospital, lunches with friends and weekly visits to her brother Graham, who lives in a nearby aged care residence. Max and Ellis like playing computer game Panda Pop, going out for milkshakes and asking about family history with Nana, while Lahood and Dietrich enjoy regular coffee dates and shopping trips.
Lahood laughs. “Not many guys want their mother-in-law living with them, but sometimes I’m [Scott’s] ally. If he wants something, he tells me …”
Dietrich continues wryly: “And Mum knows the right way to broach it with me.”
THE “SANDWICH GENERATION” – people, typically in their 30s or 40s, responsible for both bringing up children and the care of ageing parents – is a concept Dietrich and Lahood tease each other about often. These families account for many of Australia’s multi-generational households.
University of New South Wales senior research fellow Dr Edgar Liu started looking into the phenomenon after becoming intrigued by the large number of undergraduate students in his classes still living at home, a reversal of what was common in his own early university days.
Liu, based at the City Futures Research Centre in Sydney, says while the increasing trend of young adults remaining in the family home – so-called “kippers” (Kids In Parents’ Pockets Eroding Retirement Savings), “gestaters” or “failure to launchers” – get the most publicity, the reality is more diverse and the reasons more complex and multilayered than simple economics. His research found more than four million Australians – or one in five – live in multi-generational households, a figure which increased 40 per cent between 1981 and 2011. Brisbane families accounted for the most rapid increase (71.5 per cent), partly due to the capital’s dramatic increase in population (92 per cent) across those two decades.
It’s probably no surprise that financial advantage and housing affordability were the main drivers for cohabitation, followed by care and support, and then adult children delaying independence. Grandparents moving in was a common reason, as was the simple “we’re family”.
“I was surprised by the [order of] reasons given and the benefits named – for example, money was a big reason people said they lived in that arrangement, but as a benefit [finances] was well-down the list. The main benefit named was always around companionship and support … [even though] they disliked the lack of privacy,” says Liu, 40, who lives alone in a Sydney apartment. “There’s one quote [from a participant] that I use all the time. This woman said, ‘Oh, yes, it’s great, there’s always somebody there; but at the same time, there’s always somebody there’.”
Liu says why people choose to live together could have a huge influence on housing design and urban planning, but it is also important for formulating appropriate public policy around aged care, childcare and family support services.
“It’s not just a housing issue, it’s a care issue. There are more young people living at home
but we also know that because of changes in aged care arrangements, there are probably more older parents and middle-aged children [in a] cohabitation arrangement, just because it’s
easier and cheaper to provide that kind of care and support.’’
While Liu found multi-generational families are typically living in larger houses in outer suburbs, small two or three-bedroom units account for the majority of new housing.
REIQ spokesman Martin Millard says southeast Queensland builders are increasingly delivering a wider range of floorplan options to cater for multi-generational families, complementing a steadily growing trend towards home conversions and extensions. Realestate.com.au data shows “dual living”, “granny flat” and “duplex” were in Queensland’s top 10 keyword search terms in the past 12 months, reflecting the growing desire for houses suited to dual living.
“Our ageing population [is] voicing a preference to live in home where possible, as opposed to aged care facilities. The baby boomer generation … feel the pressure … and are often making provisions for their older children staying home longer and elderly parents,” Millard says.
In Janet Nyokabi’s native Kenya, generations of families live in several homes on large gated acreage blocks, where everyone can look out for each other. Her brothers Edwin and Ronald live with their families in such a compound with their uncles and grandmother, while sisters Lillian, Caroline and Josephine live with their husbands’ families.
“Most people live together, because when a child is born, it does not only belong to that family but to the whole community.
“We don’t have nursing homes, so we look after our parents and grandparents. It’s how we live like family and look after our elderly.
“We can all be meeting together, eating together in a common ground, sharing the gardening and things, and look after each other. It is tradition.”
Nyokabi, 35, now a registered nurse, migrated to Brisbane with her eldest son Osteen, 12, in 2009 to study. Today the pair lives with her children Pendo, 6, and Salem, 18 months, mother Perpetual Kinyanjui, 60, and stepfather Steve Bylsma, 57, in a modest three-bedroom, one-bathroom rental home in Algester, in Brisbane’s south. Kinyanjui met Bylsma while visiting her youngest daughter and they married two years ago.
With all family still back in Africa, it was only natural the newlyweds would move in with Nyokabi.
“When I come home [from work], I know Mum is at home …. It feels more like a home, given that I’m a single parent, and I have someone to chat to. The children learn from both of them, Tete and Poppy.
“In Africa we say, when an old person dies it’s like burning a library that was in use.
Whatever experiences they have, they are teaching the children and, also, knowing it’s not a friend or stranger looking after my kids. It’s someone who gives them the same love that I could give,” she says.
“The finance part is still there but it’s about family.”
Cultural heritage was not a common cause for multi-generational cohabitation identified in Liu’s research.
In Brisbane, the vast majority of multi-generational households were born in the Oceania region – usually Australian-born children and grandchildren of migrants (79 per cent), with sub-Saharan Africa a distant second (3.7 per cent) followed by South-East Asia (2.6 per cent).
Kinyanjui and Bylsma, who receives Newstart while looking for warehouse work, care for the three children and do much of the household chores while Nyokabi works full-time at the Aboriginal & Torres Strait Islander Community Health Service and occasional casual shifts with Queensland Health.
The family enjoys going for walks, daytrips and regular holidays together. Every Sunday is spent in worship – mornings at the Acacia Ridge Presbyterian Church and afternoons with the neighbouring Mountain of Prayer Ministry.
“We do things together like family board games – Skip-Bo, UNO!, Bible questions – and like the food my grandma makes, like chapatti and pilau, and my grandpa makes spaghetti bolognaise,” says Osteen. “Pretty much the best thing they teach me and my brother is the experiences they had when they were younger; like the things they used to do, the old-fashioned way and things they used to do before.”
“He makes us feel young,’’ comments Bylsma, to a burst of laughter from the gathered adults. He and his late first wife Sonia raised five foster sons, so he’s accustomed to the straight talk of children, particularly boys.
Still grinning, Nyokabi sums up their daily life simply. “We know each other, we love living together and we accommodate each other.”
WHILE FAMILY circumstance meant Leanne Healy left school aged 15 to get a job and left home at 17, her 23-year-old daughter Kate, a public relations executive, still sleeps in the bedroom opposite hers. It’s only been 18 months since son James, 24, swapped the third bedroom of her Hamilton townhouse, in Brisbane’s inner northeast, for a Melbourne flat to chase a career in the horse racing industry.
“I’ve always said [to the kids] you can stay home until you’re 24 and then you have to move out. I think that’s probably a reasonable age. I certainly don’t want them here when they’re 27 – that’s too old,” laughs Healy, 53, a divorced freelance bookkeeper.
“By 24, you’ve got enough time to get yourself sorted with a job you like and it also gives them an opportunity to be able to save money to buy a house or travel the world.”
She’s also found herself again living under the same roof as her own parents.
Her dad Ralph’s failing health saw he and wife Marion Murphy, 86 and 81 respectively, sell their Tweed Heads unit with hopes of finding a ground-floor unit locally.
When they couldn’t, Healy renovated the lower level of her three-storey townhouse to include a kitchenette, bedroom and living area, where her parents have lived for the past year.
“You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, but it seemed to me I hadn’t even gotten rid of my kids yet and now my parents are back. When am I going to get my time? Your time is supposed to be when the kids go. All of a sudden it was, well there goes my time!” says Healy.
The Murphys have purchased a unit in the same Sunshine Coast complex as their son Peter and his wife Karen, close to shops, medical facilities and other services, and plan to move soon.
Healy almost gasps in horror at the idea of Kate and James leaving home at the same age she and her three brothers did, reflecting both her doubts in their ability to survive and dismay at the education and opportunities they’d miss.
She’s not alone. Several Australian studies reveal the proportion of young adults staying in the family home significantly increased in the past decade, with more than half of those aged 18-29 years now living with their parents – and staying longer – as they study, travel, delay marriage and save.
Latest Household, Income and Labour Dynamics in Australia (HILDA) data, released in July last year, revealed the proportion of young people in this category was growing particularly fast in Queensland, jumping from 31 per cent in 2001 to 52 per cent in 2017.
“I don’t think there’s any stigma [around living at home] because it’s becoming more of a normality to live at home when you’re older,” says Kate.
“Her mum laughs and retorts: “Whereas in my day, there was something wrong with you if you did!”
Kate worked part-time while completing a double degree in business and media communications at Queensland University of Technology, while James ditched study to become a stable foreman.
Neither could afford to move out of home, either alone or with friends. Since landing her first full-time job just over a year ago, Kate pays $300 a month in board and strives to save at least half of her monthly pay.
By comparison, one of her friends pays $200 a week rent to share a nearby three-bedroom unit.
Data from Finder shows the average Queenslander can save more than $16,000pa by staying in the family home, while more than half of Queensland parents help out their adult kids financially – mostly with free rent.
Analysis by the online comparison service found it cost an average $9930pa to rent a room in a Brisbane sharehouse, or nearly $19,000pa for an apartment alone.
“Most of my friends still live at home. A lot of people say they will never be able to afford to buy a home – unless it is way, way out on the city’s outskirts. It’s just so unaffordable,” Kate says.
“I never thought I would have a house deposit before I was 25. If I was really, really strict, I probably could save so much more than I am, but I do like to splurge and have fun.”
Healy rolls her eyes with a half-grin as she admits responsibility for household finances and chores is “one-sided obviously”.
Her parents are self-sufficient, though Healy drives them to appointments.
The easy banter between Healy and Kate reflects the way their parent-child relationship has relaxed into one incorporating more friendship and mutual respect.
They like to eat out, escape to the beach and try new things together. Kate’s boyfriend Hugh Fordyce, 23, a diesel fitter who works in coal mines and lives at his family’s property at Moranbah, central Queensland, visits twice a month, while Healy often spends weekends with her partner, whom she prefers not to name.
“I look forward to when [Kate] comes home at night. You never stop being a mum, do you? If she’s out I still worry about her and I’ll send a text, saying ‘what time will you be home?’ But I know I’ve got to keep myself in check a little bit knowing that she is an adult and she can do as she pleases,” she says, then rolls her eyes laughing. “Now with them downstairs, Mum says to me, ‘Oh, did you go out? We didn’t know you went out’. I still have to report in to them!”