I consider myself a pretty passionate person. Once I get my mind set on something, I can't seem to quit thinking about it, especially if there is some sort of problem to solve. Perhaps sometimes I might even consider myself a little obsessive over certain issues.
Like our next house.
Ever since we had our second child, our three-bedroom, 1200-something-square-foot, basement-less house has been making me feel a bit claustrophobic. The fact that the two kids are of the opposite gender probably doesn't help. (After all, they don't really share toys or clothes or bedroom space.) And the fact that I work out of my home probably doesn't help, either. So, needless to say, we are up to the rooftop with stuff.
I have (attempted to) rid this house of clutter more times than I can count over the past nine years we've lived here, and yet somehow, we always seem to have too much. Too much kid clutter. Too much kitchen clutter. Too much work clutter. Too much scrapbook clutter (if there is such a thing). And yes, too much clutter from the adults, too. Add to the mix five animals and four people, and maybe you can sense my frustration with living space limitations.
So for the past year and a half, Chad and I have been dreaming about our next house. Probably 99 percent of the time, we have been dreaming about building. My dad is a builder, and I have always dreamed of living in a house he designed. (He can't build it, given that he lives 1,000 miles away.) But we have also been saying, for nearly two years, that we're planning to build in about two years. Two years flies by. No house. No land. Lots of frustration.
A couple of months ago, we thought we had the perfect piece of property in the bag. It was beautiful. We could easily picture our kids playing outside, our dream house perched on the hill, our perfect view out the living room window. We made an offer. It was a fair offer. More than fair in some ways. (To explain would take a while; I'll spare you.) We crossed our fingers. The developer said no. The asking price stood firm. Then he offered to give us some cash at closing, which the bank said was illegal. And the woman who would have been our neighbor was as cold as ice. We started to get a bad feeling about the property, so we walked away without making a counter offer.
The property sold just a couple of weeks later. I cried. That was the perfect property. That was supposed to be our homeland. I just knew it. Now it will be the perfect spot for someone else's home.
When I finally had made peace with that (sort of), I started looking online at existing homes, just a few houses at a time, when I felt like it. I'm not obsessed about buying an existing home. Far from it. But I couldn't help but have the feeling that the first property fell through for a reason. Maybe that's because there is another house out there for us that is just perfect. I had to look and see.
I found a house with a lot of promise online. It is an old house, but it has been completely restored. It's quite nice inside, especially given that the house is more than 80 years old. It has a front porch, fenced-in yard, big back deck, beautiful office (with doors!), fireplace, hardwood floors, living room and family room. Best of all, it has seven bedrooms. Yes, seven. The kids could have their own rooms. They could have a playroom. We could have a guest room. I could have a scrapbook room! And we'd have a bedroom to spare. This house promised tons more square feet within our price range than building. I had high hopes.
We went to visit the house last weekend, and my high hopes began to diminish. Most of the windows are painted shut. (I LOVE fresh air in the house.) The brick-floor basement had signs of recurrent standing water. The garage needed work. The deck needed work. The fence needed work. The gutters needed to be replaced. The roof would need to be replaced soon. And while the interior didn't need work now, if and when it would, it would likely be expensive.
There were red flags. It just wasn't the house for us.
So now we're back to square one. The biggest decision ahead of us is whether we want more house or more land. Our price range limits us, most likely, to a bigger yard and smaller house (more likely building) or a smaller yard and bigger house (more likely something already built). We really want both! I would love to have some more space for kids to play outside. G especially needs it. He needs to burn off energy, especially in the summertime. We also could really use more space just for living, though. More storage. A basement. Another room or two. And of course, there's always that dream of living in a house my dad designed.
So where will we be and when? That's the big question right now. I'd like to think we could have both, the perfect house and the perfect yard. But maybe that's too wishful. And maybe I'm wanting too much. Like one of my favorite quotations reminds me, "It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you have." I'm trying to remember that. We are pretty lucky to have a house we can afford right now. We're lucky to have a house, period. I sometimes feel selfish for wanting more. Then again, there's nothing wrong with moving on.
I'd just like to know when that might happen.