Skip to main content

tough decisions

With the arrival of baby number 2, our house is officially at capacity.  Maybe beyond capacity.

Sweet hubby and I are sharing our bedroom with the new little one, and peanut still has her own room, for the time being, although in a month or so, we expect that to change as baby 2 moves in with her.

We have been searching, on and off, for the past many months for a different house to live in, and I keep coming back to some tough decisions about what I value and why I value it and how I can live out those values, all related to a new house.

Our current home is small.  It is in a lovely old neighborhood less than five minutes away from my parents' house.  At present, my sister also lives in this neighborhood, although that will likely change when she gets married in January.  There is a park within walking distance in our neighborhood, and the public schools we are zoned for are okay but not great.  This house is considered "in town," meaning that it is very centrally located, and there is shopping, dining, downtown, etc. with a five to ten minute drive.  By living so close to my parents, we are able to plan spontaneously, and my parents are able to spend ample time with their granddaughters.  My mom, in particular, is a big help to me, either picking up from daycare (or sometimes dropping off) or babysitting or dropping off something I forgot at the store (since my brain doesn't function properly with a newborn in the house).  Our house is small.  It forces us to spend time together as a family on a regular basis, sharing all of the moments from after school/work until bedtime.  We don't watch TV with the girls in the room, so as long as they are awake, we are able to interact with them.  Our house is small.  There isn't a dedicated space to leave messy for sewing or other projects.  The kitchen would be more functional with more counter space and cabinets.  Our house is small.  There isn't much space, but everything has a place, and you can tell when things are not in their place.  It doesn't take much time to clean the house, because it is small.  Our house is small.  It gets crowded very quickly when people come to stay with us, for a weekend or for a longer visit. Our house is small -- we have to share our bedrooms.

We've been looking at houses with more bedrooms.  Houses with enough space to set up a craft and sewing room, or for sweet hubby to set up a workshop outside, or both.  Houses with enough bedrooms to only share when we have visitors staying with us.  Houses with an extra living room.  And while all of those things seem like they would be nice, I'm not satisfied.  I can't seem to find one that I like well enough to move from where we are now.

All of them come with some sort of caveat. One lovely house costs more than we can afford, or another is zoned for public schools that are less than okay.  One lovely house means we will still be near my parents, but another with nicer schools is not.  Paying more for that lovely house over there means we will have less available financially to bring sweet hubby's family here to visit us, so that newer, bigger house will be emptier more of the time.  Moving out of town for that lovely house with the really good schools means losing the assistance of my parents on a sporadic basis.  Moving into any of these houses means that my two girls would have their own rooms.

And at this very point in time, I'm not sure that I value losing the things I love so much about this home in favor of more space.

I don't want to buy a house for when we have visitors.
I don't want to buy a house only because of the type of school my girls could attend.
I don't want to buy a house that removes me from the excellent relationship we have with my family.
I don't want to buy a house that takes away the family time I value so highly.

I think I just don't want to buy a new house.




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

five minute friday

Linking up for Five Minute Friday hosted by the gypsy mama. It's Friday morning, there is no school today, and I am wide awake. I have been since about 20 minutes after my alarm usually goes off. I grabbed the cat, shoved her under the covers, and told sweet hubby "Merry Christmas". He wasn't very amused, starting scratching my head to get me to go back to sleep...but I am awake. Awake, and awakening, and growing in awareness. Last weekend was a wake-up call to me. We had a couple of friends over to watch movies on Saturday night, and by Sunday, sweet hubby and I were not on speaking terms. When we finally spoke again, late on Tuesday, I said painful words to sweet hubby.... If you are the person who was in my living room on Saturday night, then I don't want to know you. --I'm not.-- Then you will have to show me. And so we are both awakening to the task of rediscovering how to be good to one another, kind, respectful, building one another up as we r

adult decisions

(No, not x-rated, you're looking in the wrong place.) I was supposed to go on a college church retreat this weekend. And I didn't. I was very "unresponsible" and made the best decision for me -- not to go. I would have loved spending time in the mountains. I would have loved getting to know some of the students a little bit better. I would have loved spending time taking in God's majesty while watching the sun rise or set over the lake, singing songs of praise, hiking, walking the labyrinth, or sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch. Except that this weekend, I wouldn't have loved any of those things. They would have been a burden to me. And a church retreat? I'm fairly certain that it is not supposed to feel like a burden, but more like a blessing. When sweet hubby's good friend called me and texted me to see if he could ride with me, I said no. I couldn't handle the idea of talking to this man for three hours in the car af

if you met me...

Linking up at the Gypsy Mama . If you met me.... I'd be happy to chat for a little while, unless I was watching the clock and trying to manage my time. Sometimes I try, sometimes I don't. If you met me at school, I'd only speak to you in Spanish. For real. Unless there were no kids around, in which case I could speak to you in English. If you met me at the beach, I'd be running around in my pjs or a bikini. All the time. I think I even forgot to pack shorts for the current beach trip. Who needs shorts when there are bikinis and sunshine? If you met me, you might think I'm ridiculous about how much I love my husband and our cat. And please don't ask me, after you hear that we've been married for five years, if we have any kids. If I didn't mention any, I probably don't have any. And if I didn't mention on my own that I one day want to have kids, don't ask me when I'm planning to. I think it is rude, and personal, and you never kn