So we're buying a house. We're buying a house today, actually. As in, we have an appointment to sign important, life-altering paperwork in an hour.
The last few weeks have been a roller-coaster ride. And by that I mean that I've been experiencing giddiness and dread simultaneously, while also fighting the near-constant urge to puke. It's a lot like being pregnant, actually.
Just like when I was pregnant and suddenly everything in my life revolved around growing and birthing and raising a tiny human, I cannot help but think about the house. Every thought includes a phrase like for the house or when we move: We'll need a new area rug for the house; When we move, I want to unpack Westley's room first; I want to do something nice for the house when we move so it knows how much we love it and how long we waited...
The weird truth is that I feel like much more of an adult (and maybe even like more of a mother) buying a house than I did having a child. Maybe it's the huge stacks of paperwork and the dozens of professional people with job-titles like "agent" and "officer" and "technician." Maybe it's seeing that incredibly large dollar amount emerge before my eyes. Or maybe it's just that you hear much more about young parents than you do about young home buyers (because the former is just more narratively interesting). Anyone can have a baby. But buying a home is something only grown-ups do.
But weirder still is that Rob and I have done the home-buying process once before--and it didn't feel quite so scary and grown-up back then. I remember feeling more relieved than excited as things were getting squared away. Now, I'm going over budget numbers and I'm actually looking forward to finding creative ways to pay for the things we need (for the house and for ourselves). I'm kind of excited that I'm getting a new (very efficient) furnace for Christmas...and my birthday...and Valentine's Day...and...
The only thing (besides the gnawing dread) tampering my lovey-dovey feelings towards my new (almost) home-owning situation is my other child. Westley is most certainly not excited about moving, and doesn't like it that Mommy and Daddy keep talking in animated voices about serious-sounding things. Today, as we were talking to a prospective furnace guy, Westley very clearly asked to "go home." And it absolutely broke my heart.
I realized that in my excitement and nervousness over our new living space, I'd nearly forgotten about the little someone who would be living there with us. As big a change as this is going to be for me, it's going to be even bigger for Westley. I need to get out of my own, house-fixated mind and into his a little bit more. Yes, he loves his new yard. But he doesn't yet understand that his home is about to change.
Maybe that's why I feel like more of an adult this time around. This is our second house, but it's our first family home.
