House Woes

Our house is gone. Well, not literally, it's still standing there, with all of its front porch complete with swing cuteness mocking me every time we walk by. But it's gone nonetheless, off the market, out of reach.

After my last post we had a whirlwind of a week. Going to open houses on the weekend, spending 2 hours one night looking at 7 homes (Ainsley did amazingly) and then making an offer on one this past Saturday. I had it all planned out. Where all the furniture was going to go, what colors we would paint the rooms, how we would spend our new homeowners government stipend (ceiling fans and energy star appliances). It was literally the perfect house.

Oh well. I guess they always say "if it's meant to be it'll be". I find this phrase to be both infuriating and true. I was so conflicted about buying a house here, I still am. I was looking for a sign or direction anywhere I could. When the light bulb in Ainsley's closet began emitting sparks when we turned it on I was sure we were being pointed in the direction of homeownership. Now, I'm not so sure. After crying on and off for about an hour yesterday (mostly triggered by the realization that my dreams of a dishwasher and dog-poop free yard had been dashed) I actually feel pretty good. People have gotten by with less than a great 2 bedroom apartment in Oak Park...I think I can make it work.

The hardest part for me remains entangled with motherly guilt. I want a house for Ainsley so badly. I want her to frolic in the yard and eat the grass without worrying if that's one of our flatmate's cigarette butts that she has in her mouth. I want to put up a swing in the backyard and decorate for holidays and go to bed as early as we want without being awoken by the blaring television or video game playing below us. I'm just DONE renting.

Again, oh well. I am not good at letting go of things that I really want. I just can't accept that this isn't going to work out and that I really have no control over how long we're in Oak Park, and to be fair, neither does Ian really. I am so proud of him for all of the hard work that he is doing and the connections that he's making. At the same time I know that the longer we're here the harder it's going to be to move eventually, for both of us.

I'm only going to be a new mom once. I've made connections here, have a great doctor for Ainsley, know where to shop for anything, and who to call if I don't. If we move back I'd have to start from scratch all over again.

Clearly this to move or not move issue is a big deal for me right now as I've written two of my seven posts about it. I have no control anyway so I don't know why I'm agonizing over it. I wish so badly that I was one of those people that could just accept a situation and roll with it. I am not a rolling kind of gal. I need plans and projections and I don't deal well with the unknown.

On the plus side it's fall, my favorite season. I'll keep myself busy with knitting and cooking and, oh yeah, raising Ainsley, and hopefully before I know it it'll be time to move on, one way or another. At least this year I'll get to spend the holidays not on bedrest or in the hospital, but with my sweet baby girl and my wonderful husband. I have a lot to be thankful for. House or no house.