Moving on

It wasn’t our first choice.
When we made the offer on our house, it happened because we were outbid on the house we liked better, driving it up beyond what we could afford. In retrospect, though, perhaps it’s for the best. It was a “forever” kind of house, 4 bedrooms with room for at least 2 others, if that huge space over the garage were finished. It was stunning, the kind of place you’d never want to leave.

What we ended up with, instead, was perfect for a starter home. Or an ending home, since the previous owners were retirees. But the house had been up for sale for a long time, and while it was listed at just shy of $90k, our realtor advised us to give them what I thought was an insulting lowball of $75,000, and ask them to cover our closing costs and let us keep the fridge. We discussed it and decided he knew what he was doing, so we took his advice. 15 minutes later, he called back and said the sellers had agreed to our terms, and even offered to let us have the keys before closing so I could start cleaning, painting and moving in.

The house is nothing to sneeze at, mind you. Even the inspector was impressed, saying that in 15 years of doing home inspections, he’d never seen a house in such a perfect state of repair. We were overjoyed to get out of an apartment and into a place that was really our own, where I could do anything I wanted to the walls and have space for a vegetable garden out back. But when you run a business (or two) out of your house, it’s easy for the 3rd bedroom to get eaten up by file cabinets and postal scales. Then when you add a couple pets and a baby to the mix, it doesn’t take long for that 3-bedroom house with the eat-in kitchen to suddenly feel a little… well, small.

I’m no stranger to moving. From the time I was 10 onward, we moved a lot. We moved for my Dad’s job, we moved to work our way into my parents’ dream house, I moved out on  my own, then I married Joe and moved across the country with him. But there’s still something about leaving your first home together that tugs at the heartstrings. Even so, I know it’s about time.

Our future? Maybe.

So where are we headed?
That, I don’t know yet. Eventually you reach a point in your life where you look down a dozen forks in the road, and sometimes it takes a while to figure out which path is the one you need to take. A lot of it is up to employment opportunities, which is something still being explored. While I’m blessed to be a stay-at-home mother now, and just work on my businesses I run from our tiny 3rd bedroom, it’s important to consider what employment options I might have later on, in addition to what Joe will be working.

If there’s anything I’ve learned from the Backstreet Boys, it’s that things change, but in some ways, everything stays the same, even when you’re moving on. I’m confident that we’ll end up in a better place, maybe even something like the forever home we almost had.
Soon.

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