House Hunting is not For Weenies

 

I have completely neglected my blog for longer than virtually acceptable. All the issues keeping me from posting, though, will come in handy as good material for a few posts. Today I’m dissecting one of them – the wonders of house buying when you’re nearly seven months pregnant.

We wanted to be shrewd and take advantage of the cutthroat Austin real estate market and sell our house before the baby comes. In our idealized, fairytale dream where unicorns greeted us every morning and a fluorescent rainbow shone in the background of our new house, everything would be perfect.

Well, sell our house we did. And fast. We got great buyers who gave us all we asked for and more, including the opportunity to lease back for a few months while we sought said dream house. Sounds great, doesn’t it?

In the meantime, Hubby was transferred from his job, which means he’ll have to work in a different city – and which also means the houses we were looking at are all too far from his new location. Which also means goodbye sassy unicorns and rainbows, and hello snorting donkeys and dark clouds!

We have been visiting several houses in a different city, and of course we can barely agree on what we want. We’ve had plenty of awkward moments in front of our tireless Realtor, who hasn’t shied away from his mission of finding us a house…even though he’s had to witness some life-altering arguments about priorities.

I never knew house shopping could put such a strain on a marriage. I want a playroom; Hubby wants a media room. I want a bigger office; Hubby wants a three-car garage. Funny thing was, I never knew any of those things were a priority for him – that is, until we toured houses with said features. Phew.

My favorite part of the week was the look on the Realtor’s face the last time he picked us up. I had on my wristband (my wrist has been bothering me from writing), and Hubby, reeling from a very recent shave, pressed a Kleenex to his mouth. The Realtor looked at my wristband, then darted his gaze carefully at my husband, who still had blood spilling from his upper lip, and asked, “Everything okay?” J