We are buying our house. Well, technically it's not our house but it feels like our house. We've lived here for 4.5 years. That's longer than anywhere else in our marriage. We moved 7 times in the first 9 years of our marriage. Four of those moves were cross country. It makes my head spin just thinking about it. I can move in a moments notice.
This is the third house we're buying. We're hoping that the third time is a charm. We aren't going in with high expectations. When you buy your first house you are full of such dreams. You imagine frolicking through the living room, christening the dining room table, placing fresh flowers on the end table every Sunday. Life will be good.
That was my dream when we purchased our first house. We had just moved back to Oklahoma. We closed on New Years Ave 2004. I was 20 and my husband was 21. We felt so grown up. It was a cute little house, built in the late 60s. The front of the house was adorned with....wait for it....lava rocks. I am not shitting you, actual lava rocks were sticking out the front of the house.
We negotiated with the seller to have the pink shag rugs replaced but there were hints from the 60's still hanging around like the a weird shaped built-in book shelf, the gold specked counter tops, green sink and brown built-in stove. We had a big fenced in back yard with a beautiful view of Mount Scott. The skies in Oklahoma are so blue.
We did fix up the house (as much as we could afford to). We painted, planted flowers and took out the crazy 60's book shelf. It was a happy home. It was ours.
It was even ours on the day that the bathtub and shower started filling up with sewage. I called my husband at work. "Honey, you have to come home. There's shit in the tub."
"What?"
"Just come home."
Roots. Roots that were growing through the sewage pipe in the backyard. I stood there in the backyard, 8 months pregnant with my second child while I watched the plumber work. I cried when he told me how much it would be. The only silver lining was that my husband had to clean up the shit since I was pregnant.
It was our house when my husband's job transferred him and we went to sell it and were given a list of repairs to be done. I learned how to MAKE window screens and fix garage doors that week.
Our tiny little rancher house in Oklahoma was the only house that I was ever sad to leave. We had so many happy memories there. My youngest daughter was born in the back bedroom. The house represented love and new life to me.
The next house we owned was a tiny bungalow in Indianapolis. It was built in 1929. It had it's original wood with built-in bookshelves. Many of the windows were original. This was not a good thing but I was 22 and had little need for practicality. Some of the light fixtures were original (and the knob and tube wiring), the walls were plaster, we had a beautiful porch and swing. It even had a white picket fence.
We were unprepared for a historic house like that. The Indianapolis winter was hard, especially with drafty windows. After only 3 months in the house it's bath tub also filled up with shit. Roots! We lived on the edge of the ghetto and our air conditioning unit was stolen for the copper. I had my car stolen from the front yard. The last straw was when we had our garage broken into and the kid's wagon stolen. My husband's father died shortly after we moved into the house.
Although the children were young and precious -it was not the happiest place or happiest time for us. When we left Indianapolis we filled our cars with as much as we could and sold everything else. We headed South for a new life and a new beginning. Good riddance!
We did start a new life and we've been so blessed here. Everything has happened the way that it was meant to. When we moved into this house over 4 years ago we were still trying to decide where we wanted to live. I'd told my husband that the next house I buy is the last one. I'll live in it until I'm old.
After 4 years of living in this house, it needs a little TLC. A fresh coat of paint everywhere, the carpet upstairs needs to be replaced, we want new appliances and to do some landscaping. So, we asked our landlord if he'd sell us the house and he said yes. No realtors, the purchase agreement was written up on a napkin practically. haha. We close in 20 days. We are going to paint in 21 days.
It may be the death of us. My husband and I have very different styles. My husband wants to paint every room in the house green. Every one. I said, "I want to paint the kitchen blue." He responded, "What about green?"
"The dining room is already green."
"What about a different shade of green?"
"No. You only get one green room."
"I want to paint the bedroom gray."
"I was thinking like a sage."
"Christ! Sage is green. Stop with the green."
We went to Lowes to get something today and he kept pointing to green curtains. Kill me.
We also want to replace the upstairs carpet with wood. I think carpet is ideal upstairs but my husband and my youngest daughter have awful allergies and I think getting rid of the carpet will help.
My 11 year old was like, "I think we should do dark wood."
"No. We are going to match the wood to the wood downstairs."
"Then I want carpet."
"No. We are doing to have wood that matches downstairs."
"Well, it's my house too."
I laughed out loud. "You paying the mortgage?"
I can tell you that a few months ago she would be snarky and say, "Well, dad is paying the mortgage - not you!!!!" But now I have a job so she can't talk shit anymore.
Then my 9 year old told me she wasn't going to invite any friends over and called me "ghetto as crap" because I want to paint the front door red. Ghetto as crap. Nice, real nice. I'm obviously doing a horrible job at raising these kids. Bad Mom Award.
I thought dealing with my husband's input was annoying, I also have 2 kids that have opinions about things. Damn it!
So we are buying this house. It's not my dream house. I always imagined that I'd live in a house like this:
\It would have a gourmet kitchen and a sun room. A library that I'd sit in every morning with a cup of tea and read the complete works of E.E. Cummings and Emily Dickinson.
Consuela would come everyday to clean. The detached garage would have a Benz in it and an Escalade that we only drive for long trips. We'd hold garden parties and dinner in our dream house.
As time has gone on, my idea of what my dream house is has changed for sure. This house is not perfect. It's small - only 1,600 square feet. The bush in the front yard is dying. There is a 2 year old stain in the carpet in front of our bathroom from when my daughter vomited all over, the fridge creaks, there is a patch in the hallway wall from where my daughter kicked it in a rage, the grass in the backyard is a little patchy....
I could go on and on. But if you can look past those things you can see the beauty here. This is a house that has seen many happy times. It's where we truly have come together and forged ourselves as a family. It's where we have gathered around on Sunday dinner. In this house is the sound of laughter, children running up and down the stairs and jumping on the bed. This house has hosted Christmas dinner, Thanksgiving, and Easter.
This house is surrounded by the people that we love. A father, a mother and 2 sisters who are close by. Neighbors who will borrow a cup of sugar or an egg. Neighbors who will text at 9 at night to share a watermelon, neighbors who will help me open a jar of spaghetti sauce when my husband isn't home and who lend an ear and friendship.
Our neighborhood is full of children. Children that we've grown to love. An impromptu game of kick ball, bike rides around the loop, and just running around in the street at dusk are common occurrences here. There is something beautiful and nostalgic about it.
This house is home to us. I can't wait for it to be ours. Even if the bathtub fills up with shit and the air conditioner goes out. This is where our heart is. It least it doesn't have lava rocks.
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