(the front of our house in the fall of 2009 -- yep, that's us)
When we moved in, we knew that this wasn't our dream house (far from it) and didn't think we'd be living here forever. But I don't think I anticipated feeling a powerful need to move this soon.
The house needs work. The kitchen is ridiculously outdated: ugly laminate counters, old appliances (plus, of course, the whole no dishwasher thing), the worst wallpaper you've ever seen. The bathroom is atrocious (aforementioned missing bathtub is just one part of the problem -- let's just say the moldy-oldy seashell wallpaper border is one of the best features), the basement was flooded before we moved in and consequently the tile (made from asbestos, we think) is ruined and needs to be removed and replaced. The ceiling of the garage is falling apart, the chimney flashing needs repair, the backyard is overrun by creeping charlie.
(our living room; photos by Chrissy Deming Photography)
At the same time, there are things we love about the house. We put in a patio the first year we lived here, and it's perfect for us. The backyard is large and has a very lovely flowering tree -- and the giant maple in the front is the envy of the neighborhood. Our living room window lets in the most amazing afternoon light. We live so close to campus that my husband can easily walk to work every day, saving us money on fuel and the environment some greenhouse gases and giving him the opportunity for some exercise and contemplation time. The house is on a quiet little cul-de-sac where our daughter will be safe to play when she's old enough to scamper around outside.
So, what to do? It feels very small now, but if/when we have another child, we will have to move -- The Professor has made it abundantly clear that he needs a home office so he can work in peace and quiet, and we'd have to use the last of the three bedrooms for the new little one, so we're out of luck unless we can figure out a way to construct an office for him in the basement (but it seems like it'd be depressing to work in a dark dungeon of wood paneling!). All of the "problems" I mentioned are probably easily fixable for someone with DIY skills, ambition, talent, and time. That person is not me, and it is definitely not my husband.
(in the backyard 2.5 weeks before L arrived)
It's a buyer's market, so I know we could find another house that's a better fit for us with little difficulty. But it's a buyer's market, so who is going to want to buy our goofy little home so that we could move?
And I feel embarrassed for even saying this, because I grew up in a tiny ranch house with old laminate counters and only three bedrooms + 1 small bathroom and parents with no money to fix anything and you know what? It was a house filled with love and happiness and I wouldn't have changed a thing. And considering that my great-grandfather was born in a sod house on the prairies of Nebraska and my husband's mother was born in a displaced person's camp in post-war Germany, I don't really have any business complaining.
So for now, I'm trying to stay on top of the seemingly-endless clutter and pull myself away from the real estate listings...
*I should mention, lest you think that we are very unsanitary, that we do have a shower and a little plastic baby bathtub!