We did a thing today. And I'm going to write a loooooong post about it.
Nearly ten years ago, Mike and I started discussing long-term plans for our family. We wanted to live near a city but wanted to be able to afford the suburbs and not have long commutes to and from work each day. We always thought the Chicago suburbs would be a good fit for us. That was 2009, around the time we got engaged and moved into our first apartment together, on the Upper East Side, a one-bedroom that was really a studio with a door cutout in the wall (but no actual door).
We were married in 2010.
We enjoyed life and traveling (and so many friends' weddings) in 2011 and 2012.
In 2013, we finally got pregnant and looked at our "one-bedroom" and decided we needed more space. So we moved back to Astoria, where I lived when I first left my grandparents' house and where we happened to find a great three-bedroom (with a dishwasher—whoo!—but no washer and dryer).
We had R, and then in the fall of 2014 we moved to a two-bedroom in a city with affordable suburbs . . . Buffalo. Unfortunately that wasn't the right fit for us at all.
We stuck it out till 2015, when we found out—happy surprise!—I was pregnant with M and we were moving back to New York City, to a two-bedroom (because in fifteen months Astoria's prices skyrocketed), with no dishwasher (well, we got one later that stood on a cart in the hallway that we had to hook up, around the wall, to the sink in order to run it), and still no washer and dryer, and soon-to-be two kids (and so many dishes and laundry).
Now, for those of you who knew me during 2016, you know that was a hard year for me (with the exception of M's birth). I love New York City—always have, always will. But I just couldn't parent well there; I wanted the suburban-mom life. I wanted the minivan and to be able to go grocery shopping and not have to worry about what I had to carry back. I wanted the driveway and garage, where I didn't have to worry about moving the car twice a week for alternate-street-side parking. I wanted a normal dishwasher again, and definitely a washer and dryer. I wanted to still utilize the local playgrounds, but I also wanted to be able to send the kids (and, one day, a dog) into the backyard.
There were a lot of meltdowns. And one night, in December 2016, Mike promised me we'd be out of that apartment and in the Chicago suburbs by the summer. I rolled my eyes at him.
But by April 2017, Mike had the job offer in the Chicago suburbs. We moved into our townhome in June. This townhome had most of what we were looking for. But it still wasn't *ours* and it was still missing a few things (a dedicated playroom, a guest room, and a yard). But we were happier. We were healthier.
So in August 2018, we started the "talk." We met with a Realtor (trademarked term, not a typo! 😉), with the idea that we'd seriously start looking for a house to call our own around the spring. But in the meantime, we did see some houses to get an idea of what we were looking for.
In March 2019, we found *the house* but actually walked away from it twice. But when you know, you know. And when the sellers came back a couple of weeks later, we said a tentative yes, thinking at some point something would fall through.
That was twenty-eight days ago.
Today we became homeowners.
From the longest timeline to the shortest. From Manhattan to Astoria to Buffalo to Astoria to Arlington Heights and now, finally, just next door to Buffalo Grove (the irony of still having Buffalo in the name, ha).
Nine years ago, when we got married, many of our friends and family members gave us money. We wrote in our thank-you cards that we would put it toward our future house. We didn't think it would be nine years later, or so many moves later, but we kept all that money in an account for today and today only. Thank you, friends and family, for helping us achieve our dream and for sticking by us during the murky years and all the moves. And a big, incredible, special thank-you to Mimi and Bobo; I cried on the steps of the basement, watching Mike run around with the kids in a space that is finally a devoted playroom—something I had as a kid and loved and hoped to give to my kids one day—and I thanked my grandparents over and over again for thinking of their grandchildren in their long-term plans. I hope now that we can settle down that we can one day do the same. But first we need to figure out all the stuff to do and get because we are just so incredibly new to this.
I still can't believe it. We are homeowners.
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| We have to work on the kids' excited faces. |
Also, when we were leaving the house . . .
Me: OK, guys, let's go home.
Little Man: No! This is our home.
Yes, dude, it is. But let's clean it and get some furniture in first.
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| "Mom. I'm hungry in this house. And there's nothing here!" (Yep, he found his spot.) |
