So this morning we bought a house. Just like that.
Only … it’s been more than 2 months since we first saw this house. I walked through it alone, brought Aaron back through it by himself and then we made an offer.
Just like that.
Only … it took a long time and we were traveling, tag-team parenting along the way, and trying to figure out what we were supposed to do after the school year was up. We could have totally stayed where we are – we have the most amazing landlords, but this house is currently for sale (maybe you want it?) and the end is always inevitable.
We told no one. The longest 10 weeks of silence in my life – it would be easier to keep a pregnancy from you guys than this. (Spoiler: not pregnant either.) So much of the work I was doing on myself was also finding it’s way into the decision of buying this house and I had to leave out those parts of my story for weeks. Not telling you exactly what was going on, or what was on my mind – that’s new for me. I think it was a good thing, too.
We’re finally ending the sentence with a period – no longer a question mark:
(If you’re new to this part of my story, click the photo above to enlarge and see the past 2 years of our lives as nomads on our way to debt freedom. It’s ok, we’ll wait.)
And I woke up at 1:20 am this morning, blink blink, starring into the darkness. I couldn’t get comfortable, my jaw was clenched, my shoulders tight. I couldn’t hold myself together anymore. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through the next 8 hours like a human being. At six Aaron woke up and I laid in his arms and cried silent, hot tears. My nose was running and my body was cold and I was just so scared.
This hasn’t been an exciting event. It’s been exhausting, because what if we go through all of this again only to be told again that we aren’t good enough on paper.
We were supposed to close last Friday but earlier in that week we were told there was a hold up with paper work, we needed to sign even more documents: we needed to surrender even more information.
So we kept the appointment for the Vasectomy and I kept adding things to my calendar, like this closing in the near future was never actually going to happen.
And then we pulled into the Title Office this morning and they were ready. On time. Mint-printed white sheets of paper, mugs full of pens, hot coffee.
And they took our cashiers check and our drivers licenses without a second thought. We were on their docket. They were expecting us.
And then they let us sign.