a house to a home

I have a very important announcement to make:

WE GOT THE HOUSE.

The house hunting emotions are over. The Bank finally conceded, although I'm not going to say they were civil about it. (I told Dusty I nicknamed The Bank bastardions, because they're illegitimate and make me cry.)

My head has been swimming since we found out the news, mostly with the crazy projects I can't wait to get started on. This house needs a lot of tender love and care - as well as ruthless ripping up of carpets and violent scrubbing of absolutely everything. Spare the rod, spoil the child. Maybe that doesn't really apply here.

The point is, this is a great big [potentially] beautiful house just waiting to be Caitlined. I've had a secret Pinterest board I've been adding to over the last few weeks in the hopes that we would win the house war, and now that the dust is settling and the other offers are tending to their wounded, we can raise our victory flag and start buying clay to make CAT COASTERS.

cat coaster DIY via ABM

I know that expectations hardly ever meet up with reality, but I can't help but dream about the crazy eccentricities this house is going to feature. This house will be a work-in-progress for several years, but the prospect of constantly innovating and creating new touches to transform a house to a home is incredibly exciting to me. 

We'll build a good home, with lots of scope for the imagination. 

- Gilbert Blythe

Having a husband means I probably can't paint a giant gold moon on my wall like I'm really dying to, but maybe he'll let me sketch some tasteful constellations instead. But that's why I need him. We'll come up with ideas and compromises together, so our home can avoid looking like The Yellow Submarine (no but really, who wouldn't want to live in that house!?) and instead look more like a place that adult humans live. Ones that are socially capable of inviting friends over. 

I want to know how many ways you can use twinkle lights. I want cheesy things like a hutch to hold our coffee mugs and a big shiny sign that says "Cheers!" and an entire room dedicated to being a jungle gym for our cats. Don't tell me that wouldn't be hilarious. (Our cats could also really use the exercise). 

Before too long, we'll be swimming in carpet samples and tile ideas and paint swatches. We'll be donning hazmat suits while we attempt to douse the bathrooms in bleach. We'll be wearing shoes all day err day because that carpet ain't touching my bare feet. It'll be gross and magical and we'll be able to say "one small step for us, one GIANT step for sanitation!" when things are finished and beautified. 

I can't wait to give you a tour of the new house when the time comes, and to let you in on our little secrets of turning that house into our home. 

house hunting emotions (as told by troy barnes)

My husband and I have entered into our first house-buying experience, and I'm suddenly realizing I'm not the greatest at handling this kind of exciting, stressful and emotional journey. I've always been a homebody, and the two of us are probably the most sentimental humans in Arizona. We walk into a house that's for sale and we're like, oh well hello there, destiny, thanks for bringing us to our new place of solace and happiness. The problem is, when it's listed way out of our budget or sells before we can make an offer, we might take it a little too hard. It feels personal. Like we've just been betrayed by the very destiny that promised us so much.

I figured Troy Barnes, a character on the TV show Community, was the best man for the job of illustrating our complex emotions of the past few weeks.

We hadn't actually planned on buying a house this early. But we came across a few local properties, and our interest was piqued. The wheels started turning. What if we bought a fixer upper, lived in it for a few years while we fixed it up, then resold it to provide us with enough money to build our own house (which is our ultimate dream)?

We saw the house for the first time a week and a half ago. We knew right away it was the perfect type of dingy, in need of our tender love and care but not too far gone. It was priced low; most of the houses around our city at the same price are half the size. It had only been listed for one day, so we were confident with our offer and waited the necessary 10 days before the bank would tell us we were officially home owners.

But then, over the weekend, our realtor told us that the bank was rejecting all of the offers. There are a total of 3, we found out, so our initial feelings of being the special chosen ones quickly vanished. The bank wanted our highest and our best. We could raise the offer, raise the earnest money, waive the inspection period (or shorten it)...

Our confidence was shaken and we had no idea what to do. The market began rising as we twiddled our thumbs and lost sleep. Even if we raise the offer, will the other offers raise theirs as well? How can we be sure we beat them to the highest bid? Why couldn't this be a personal interview, where we charm The Bank and make them love us? Is there any way I could send The Bank a basket of mini muffins to endear them to us? Is this a sign? And if so, what's it pointing at? Are signs even a thing? 

So many questions! So much doubt! In the back of our minds we kept telling ourselves that everything will work out either way - if this isn't the house, then we'll move on with our lives and continue saving our money. If it is, then we'll get it...right? 

The Bank is impossible to mind read, unfortunately, but we decided to just do everything available to us. Raise the offer, raise the earnest money, shorten the inspection time. I tried to also send the mini muffins, but they don't like baked goods; they only eat pure gold and our hopes and dreams.

We submitted the new offer this morning. So now we're left to wait again. We'll hopefully know by tomorrow, but while I sit here typing at work it's all just like

and

It's stressful not knowing the future. I know we're not the only human beings with this problem, but it would be so much easier knowing whether or not this is the house. I'm not even sure if there's such a thing as the anything. While I believe God cares about the smallest desires of our hearts, I am not positive that he always tells us direct answers to the decisions we make. Things like where we go to school, or what we have for lunch, or what job we take. Sometimes there are clear answers, but sometimes there aren't. In this time of uncertainty and stress, I have to remember that the future is taken care of whether we're directly lead to purchasing this house or passing it by. We've done everything we can to make it happen, because in our minds it's the house - but dealing with the loss of it will not break us. It will simply be another story to tell.