Honest About Houses

So, last week I was stressing about looking at houses and looking for a home. I felt I had let my husband down by not loving the house he loved. I tried to love it for a whole day. I honestly tried to convince myself that this house was for us. But for some reason it didn't feel right to me. Was the house too small? Was the yard to small? Was it the kitchen? The bedrooms? The perfectly manicured yard? Nothing seemed like a good reason to not want to live in this beautiful house. I felt like a rat in a cage, with no where to run. We planned to go see the house one more time and probably put in an offer afterwards. Two hours beforehand, I finally broke down and said I did not think that our second scheduled visit was going to make me love the house. We canceled our appointment and spent several agonizing hours hating each other. He was upset. I was unsettled. Maybe I made a mistake... Why did I have to be the one to decide? We knew that time was of the essence, because an offer had been put on the house by a different couple the night before. We couldn't spend days debating it. Finally, I told Adam to call our realtor back. See if we could change our mind and see it. See if we could put an offer in. I felt horrible because Adam was so crushed about the house. He was already convinced this place was perfect. By the time our realtor got back to us, it was too late. The other offer was already going before the home owners. I'm not sure if I felt relieved or more guilty.

Two days later we saw two more houses. The first one we looked at felt like home when I walked in. Large rooms up and down. Over a half acre of land, with room for a garden and room for my boys to run and play in their own yard. Roomy kitchen. Fenced in patio area to play in. Big trees. It did need a new oven/stove and the bathroom was severely outdated. It was missing the extra family room that would be so nice when company was over and the kids got noisy. Adam said it was too small. I said okay. That night, I couldn't sleep. My mind kept going over and over about the house. I knew how Adam must've felt over the weekend. I was figuring out how we could work things in the house. Where we could make extra room appear, so our boys could play in their own space. Could we make a play space in the basement? And my new stove with oven would go right at the end of the counter. That stove-top would go and so would that built in oven that was half the size of a normal oven. How long did it take me to go to sleep? Maybe hours? Wednesday I practiced being honest. I started with my community group and how I needed to put my family first this week. I told my friend and employer about our plans to move and how, after the baby came, I planned to stay at home and watch a couple kids there. How I was not planning to come back to work and how the commute would be too long after we moved and I had two little kids in tow. I don't know how I managed that part, since I was dreading the whole conversation, but it was taken very well and given rather matter-of-factly. Then, at suppertime that evening, I practiced being honest with my husband. I told him how I felt about the house we had see the day before. I liked it. I really liked it. I gave my suggestions as far as family/play rooms go and about the stove and what not. He heard me out and we had a pleasant conversation. The next day we saw another house and both hated it. And we put an offer on the house that I loved. Adam was coming around to it. And, by Friday afternoon, after a counteroffer or two, the house was ours. Even Adam was excited! We will be moving this summer. In July. Before the baby comes! And I just may have time to settle in before September arrives.