Living with Extended Family: How We Made a Full House Feel Like Home

It’s been a while since my last blog post — life has become much busier than usual. Our modest three-bedroom home suddenly became overcrowded, and we’ve been living like this for nearly five months.

The reason? One evening, my husband’s cousin arrived at our doorstep with her two children. She was going through a difficult separation and had left her husband. Her children, a 14-year-old son and an 11-year-old daughter, moved in with her.

Since we’re the only family she has nearby, we were more than happy to help. I know all too well what it feels like to walk away from your home with no plan, just uncertainty.

Back in 2012, my husband and I walked out of my parents’ house. Technically, it was also my home — I was listed on the land registry, having been added as an adult for inheritance purposes. But after years of tension with my father, things became toxic. One evening, following a breakdown, my husband said we couldn’t stay any longer. We packed a bag, called my brother, and moved in with him and his family. It was a sudden transition — much like the one my husband’s cousin, let’s call her “J,” is experiencing now. The only difference was, we didn’t have children at the time.

My brother’s three sons had to give up their bedroom so we could have a space. Similarly, our daughters have given up their room for J and her children. But here’s the biggest difference: My sister-in-law deeply resented our presence, while I have done everything in my power to make J and her children feel welcome in our home.

My brother, his sons, and even my sister-in-law’s mother were kind to us. Both my husband and I were working full-time and only around during evenings and weekends. We made every effort to be helpful and stay out of the way — doing chores, engaging with the family, and being respectful of their time and space. Still, I never felt at home. My sister-in-law’s coldness made our short six-week stay feel much longer.

During that time, we were actively searching for a flat — not just a room, but a place of our own. We’d both previously shared homes with others and knew that, as a married couple, we needed our own private space. A few properties fell through, but we remained hopeful. That stressful, transitional period stuck with me — and it’s exactly what I didn’t want J to experience under our roof.

Before she moved in, I barely knew J — we’d met maybe five or six times over 14 years, usually when my in-laws visited from abroad (her dad and my mother-in-law are siblings). But from the moment she arrived, I made a conscious effort to support her emotionally, not just logistically.

I planned movie nights, rewatched old favorites with her, and made her feel included — like family. She’s told me more than once that if it weren’t for me, the past few months would have been unbearable. Knowing that I’ve helped ease her burden, even slightly, means the world to me.

Of course, there have been challenges. The sleeping arrangements aren’t ideal. J and her two children are in what used to be our daughters’ bedroom. Our younger daughter, Jiya, now shares the small box room with her dad (my husband), and our eldest daughter, Maanvi, sleeps in my room with me.

You might wonder why the kids aren’t all in the same room, or why J didn’t take the box room. The truth is, the box room is too tiny for three people — it only fits a double bed and a small side table. J’s kids also need space for clothes, school supplies, and some semblance of personal room. As for separating the girls, Jiya can be quite sensitive about her space while sleeping — she’s the type to wake up and complain if someone rolls too close. So as parents, we decided to split the girls and each take one.

This setup has created a few small issues — like our daughters’ clothes still being stored in their old room, now occupied by J and her children — but we’re figuring it out day by day.

One unexpected silver lining has been the bond forming between the kids. My daughters now have playmates, and their cousin has become a big sister figure — teaching them how to bake, apply makeup, and do crafts. The laughter and creativity echoing through the house has been uplifting. It’s the most fun they’ve had in a long time.

April was a month of celebrations: Maanvi turned 11, her godmother Nadia celebrated her 60th, and their cousin turned 12 — which meant a lot of cake and even more sweet memories.

Final Thoughts: Finding Grace in Chaos

So yes — life is hectic. The house is full, space is tight, and sleep is sometimes elusive. But despite the chaos, I wouldn’t change a thing. Hosting extended family after a separation isn’t easy, but it has taught me so much about empathy, patience, and the quiet strength that comes from showing up for others.

Years ago, I promised myself that if I were ever in a position to help someone the way my brother helped me — but with more warmth and compassion — I would do it wholeheartedly. And today, I can say with pride that I’ve kept that promise.

Because at the end of the day, home isn’t just four walls — it’s the love, support, and grace you extend to the people within it.