Home Is Where the Money Is

J-Man and I are thinking about buying a house this year. To best explain where we are on this journey, let's imagine that buying a house is swimming in the deep end of a pool. In that case we are by the steps to the shallow end, still with shorts and a t-shirt over our suits, not having removed jewelry, and crazy enough not to have applied the necessary sunscreen. We're scrolling on our phones while placing just one foot in the water to see if it's the right temperature.

Ok, maybe now that we've started to admit that we're thinking about it, perhaps we have two feet in, but still not past our ankles.

What is it about home ownership that's so much scarier than marriage at age twenty-four, parenthood, and then more parenthood? Is it the money?

Yeah.

It's the money.

First, it's so awkward to talk about. Especially in a bubble like Northern Virginia where houses and souls are priced in the same tax bracket. Like, when a person asks you where you're thinking of moving, you know they're also asking you how much you plan to spend, then judging accordingly. When we say probably not A-town, do they automatically think, "so less than a half mil"? And does that make us the poor folks?

I mean, I'd love to live in A-town. But, in reality, less than a half mil is totally more my style.

If you say closer to the outskirts of the beltway they hear "bargain hunter" and likely have visions of neighbors who will look more like us, even if the languages spoken will vary a good bit. Is that the worst thing? Would it be so bad to not be the only brown family on the block? (That's rhetorical, obviously)

When they ask about commutes and we say we want to be fair to both of us based on where we work now, and where we might seek employment later, what assumptions are they making about our family life? Do they know how J-Man gets up most mornings these days to at least get the boys dressed, if not all the way through teeth brushing, jackets, granola bars and out the door? Do they know how much the boys - and I! - crave the hour with him that he gets between work and their bedtime? Would a great deal on a giant house be worth cutting that down in half? Or worse, extinguishing it completely?

How much house does a person need anyway? We say three bedrooms, but I can't foresee the day when my boys will need to separate. We can do bunk beds. We can keep the toy fairy around with frequent visits to trim our junky overloads.

Don't even get me started on yards. I loved growing up on enough land that I never had to shut my blinds while getting dressed. I also loved that it was never my responsibility to keep up with it. Sure I've mowed the lawn, watered plants, picked plenty of green beans, but I never had to. Now when I see houses with lawns on Zillow I imagine not how cute the curb appeal is, but how much work it must be to keep up. Same with too many square feet. Who's gonna clean all that?

But if we live close to the city and give up the square footage and green grass, aren't we paying so much more for so much less? Which brings us back to money. Always the money.

Houses around here cost so much money.

I guess we'll see if we can go a month without a car repair or other random thousand dollar surprise and maybe a mortgage won't be so scary. Maybe we won't relish calling the landlord when the washer starts trickling water because we openly love not having to pay a cent to get it fixed. Maybe life will toss us an amazing HUD-50%-off-because-you're-a-teacher deal in a neighborhood that's just the right balance of "up and coming" instead of "down and out," and we'll really do this thing.

While we wait and see, we're gonna stay here in the shallow end, practicing our basic math with these precious boys of ours. These precious, expensive, lifelong contracts of boys we couldn't possibly love any more.