Image from here
We bought a tiny house on a hill when it was just us two. Soon to be married and official grown ups with a very official mortgage to prove it. The space was small but it was ours. We brought home a puppy, a large puppy, mind you. No big deal. And then we brought home a baby who turned into a toddler, and is now on the brink of boyhood. A little bit of a big deal. And then we brought home another baby, who is beginning to give us a look that says she might like to try crawling one of these days, if her little belly would just cooperate. Yeah, a big effing deal. We don't have our puppy anymore, (RIP Sudsy), but we are certainly beginning to burst out of the seams of this house.
We have been house hunting this summer. Let me clarify, Josh has been house hunting for the last year or so. When I was pregnant with Evy I was all like, we can totally have another kid in this house. They put babies in closets in New York. We're cool.
I was wrong.
Well I was right...for a little bit. But now we are at the point in the story where we need to make our next move. A move that involves decisions on square footage and school districts, planning for mortgages and property taxes. And yes, a move that involves crossing our fingers and toes for the sale of our first home.
A few weeks ago, we put an offer in on a house and then at the eleventh hour were outbid by another buyer. Heartbreak ensued and lots of "must not be our house" talk tossed around. It was a sad day. A depressing reminder that while money can't buy you love, it can certainly buy you square footage.
I am fretting over our next move. The stress of selling our house and finding our next home hovers like a dark cloud. If I think about how to make our move at the right time for the right house and for just the right price I want to vomit. Real estate is not for the faint of heart.
So this is where I am now--one foot tethered to our home that was made for just the two of us and one foot out the door searching for a home for the four of us.