This week I did something I swore I would never do. It wasn't in my capacity as a journalist or news editor - it was as a mum. And everything is in play when I'm in mum-mode. First, some context.

In making an almost snap decision just over a year ago to return to the Mid North Coast, my husband and I left our university-aged son and daughter to navigate an increasingly unaffordable Sydney.

In fact, we relocated as almost all of our daughter's friends were abandoning their unaffordable share houses and university dorms, and moving back home.

Both children are completing double-degrees and both work two jobs. I think they're superstars! They don't qualify for government support, so the "bank of mum and dad" tops up what little they have to cover expenses.

In the past month, our daughter has been looking for long-term accommodation. The search has turned out to be time-consuming, demoralising, and ultimately impossible.

She hit the ads for rooms in share houses. What she discovered is a shocking indictment on the market forces behind the housing crisis.

Single rooms in dingy, cramped, inner-city share houses (including one where the fridge doubled as a bedside table) are being advertised for as much as $590 a week. Go to flatmates.com.au, search for Surry Hills or Chippendale, and see for yourself.

When something decent does come up, there are so many applicants that students don't stand a chance against full-time employees.

So we stepped up and decided to go halves on the lease for a studio. Long story short, we found something affordable on the lower north shore of Sydney (which is oddly cheaper than university suburbs), only to be told that the other short-listed applicants had offered more money

I thought that was outlawed. But, no.

As of December, agents can no longer invite you to offer more but they can tell you if someone else has done so voluntarily. The thing is, they can't tell you how much more. So you find yourself in the horrible position of guessing. Would an extra $10 be enough, or $20, or $50?

According to the Department of Fair Trading, "agents can advise that the tenant should make their own decision about the rent they wish to offer." Which ours rightly did.

So I took a stab at a price. We got the place, but I'll never know if I offered way too much (my guess is, yes). I reckon that's a loophole in the new rent bidding laws that needs closing.

The Catch-22 doesn't stop there. To get the unit, we had to go on the lease, but to even be considered for Youth Allowance for studying away from home, our daughter needed to be on it too.

And re Youth Allowance, it turns out she can't get it until she's 22, unless she's been working 30 hours a week and can be considered independent. (I really hope someone can correct me on this.)

What double-degree student has the time to work 30 hours a week, plus look for and attend professional internships? So, now mum and dad find themselves stretched, too.

The frustration and unfairness of all this drives me mad. What of those without someone acting as a buffer to all this systemic stupidity?

To top it all off, our son just received notice from his landlord that his rent was going up by $80 a week.

What's going on? How much further are our young adults to be pushed before they give up study completely?

I know our story is not unique and it's probably nowhere near as bad as others.

If you are a regional parent who has experienced something similar, send it in as a Letter to the Editor, so we can keep up the fight against housing "unaffordability".

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