Then comes a house, of course ;)
Our apartment lease is up soon, so we've been on the hunt for a real live house over the last few weeks.
It's hard to believe we've been in a teeny apartment for almost two years.
This year I am on call over Christmas, and I'm dreading not being able to spend it with our families in Louisiana.
My goal was to be in a new place of our own for our first Christmas with just us two.
Oh and we've been craving a place large enough to hold a king size bed.
That's not too much to ask, right?
Two dogs + two humans + one queen size bed.
In this whole house-hunting process, our only problem was finding the "perfect" home that we could both agree on.
I'm anti suburbia and I insisted on a non-brick home in an actual neighborhood.
Josh insisted on a brick suburbia house.
I know, I'm just as shocked as you are.
A few weeks ago my parents came to town and we came up with a list of homes we wanted to go check out.
I don't know why we even bothered with a list, because we fell in love with the first one we looked at.
The HardiePlank siding, the carriage style doors on the two car garage, the mega yard for the pups, the insanely gorgeous kitchen with grey subway tile.
. . . but mainly the master closet!
Everyone around here has been all like "It's a buyer's market! Don't get too attached! Houses sell the day they are listed!"
I got attached.
Some stranger who obviously didn't care about my attachment issues made an offer on our dream home and the house was quickly under contract.
I cried one miniature tear, and then we found out that the builders of that home had just finished a somewhat smaller, cheaper version:
We ultimately became attached (again)
Even though it had a one car garage, smaller backyard, and the master bathroom didn't have a bathtub (no bathtub!?!) we convinced ourselves it was the one.
It was cheaper and fit well within our budget.
Before we committed, we looked around town a bit more to make sure this was exactly what we wanted.
I fell in love an "old" home (Josh's words, not mine) in the most cozy neighborhood with a great yard and a perfect kitchen.
Josh hated it.
It was too old for him.
He fell in love with a new home in a subdivision.
I hated it.
It was solid brick.
In his defense, it did have the world's greatest kitchen.
In memory of the ones (plural) that got away, I want to commemorate them for some of my favorite details.
R.I.P you oh-so-perfect homes (that Josh hated).
This breakfast nook:
(Although I'm fairly certain this house was haunted)
After a slight breakdown or two a few more tears, we realized that the only home we had ever agreed on was the bungalow.
He loved that it was new, and I loved that it looked older, but was still in a cozy, non-cookie-cutter neighborhood.
We made an offer and to our surprise it was accepted!
We felt like we had won.
The battle was over.
We got a house!
Little did our young naïve selves know, we still had a few more steps in the process.
The inspection happened next, and we realized that the "yard" that the builders had sodded and even installed an in-ground sprinkler system into would not in fact be our "yard".
The property line of this house ended 15 feet short of the neighbors back fence, which virtually cut the yard in half.
To put some really crappy great value brand icing on our magnificent cake, there was a dead tree in that plot of land that was a slight breeze away from falling into the neighbors yard and totaling their eclectic collection of "vintage" cars.
After talking with the builders, our realtor, and a lawyer or two, we ultimately decided that the legal battle was not something we should tackle and we withdrew our offer.
We were both surprisingly very depressed about it.
We had so many plans.
We had begun to buy furniture and thanks to some peer pressure we had already decided where our two Christmas trees would go.
I cried only a few more tears (I didn't have many left after all this nonsense) and thankfully I had lots of moral support and wonderful friends and family to remind me that God has a plan and things have a way of working out if they are meant to be.
Also, just because your offer is accepted doesn't mean the house is yours.
Little did we know, the current offer on our first "house crush" (sage green bungalow with two car garage and mega yard, pictured above) was only a contingency offer (with a secret knock-out clause).
Interpretation: These potential buyers were basically "holding" the house until they could sell the house they were currently living in.
If someone came along and gave a good offer that the builder liked, then the potential buyers would have a certain time frame to front the money so they could get the house.
Long story short, we made an offer and at 5:00pm Wednesday we found out it was accepted!
The other bidders bowed out gracefully.
I'm half way over the moon and I'm halfway terrified to be over the moon because of what happened last time.
I do find it pretty fantastic though that we ultimately got our first "house crush".
We still have a few hoops to jump through, like another inspection and finalizing the loan, before it is officially ours, so I'm going to try my best to not get my hopes up in the meantime.
. . . but isn't it THE cutest?
Over the last few weeks Josh and I have been repetitively slapped in the face by adulthood.
We usually spend each Labor Day weekend in Seattle then camping out at The Gorge in Washington.
This year will be our first year to miss out of the fun.
I've dreaded the day where we had to say no to travel for the sake of saving up money for grown-up things.
Although it is somewhat nauseating, that time has officially come, and I must say I'm not all that sad about.
Bring it on, adulthood.