Finding Home

A few weeks after Kamea was born both Chris and I started realizing something.

Space. We had none.

6 months after we said "I do", Chris and I upgraded from our 1bdrm apartment, to a 875sq. ft, 2bdrm townhouse. It was outdated, dirty and old - but it was ours. We spent our first few months ripping out green shag carpet, painting over worn-blue walls, and laying tile over 50yr old laminate. And through the years the projects kept coming and going. New hardware, light fixtures, bathrooms, and our last project - the basement. And 3 years later - It was perfect. "Perfect for us and the baby", we said confidently.

And then there were 3. (For real this time). And once she was there the walls kept inching their way in on us. So, we built closet organizers, and purchased bins, and hung shelves... nothing. I don't know if we just kept buying more things or if she just had that much stuff - but we were cramped!

We didn't even really discuss the option of selling our place and buying a home. It just sort of happened. We looked at each other one early morning - baby in arms - and we knew it was time to move on. "I'll call Pat." I think that's as far as the discussion went. And later that week our townhouse was on the market and we were searching for a home.

We pretty much sold our townhouse and bought our new place in the same day. Chris and I had done a lot of house hunting online before we actually went and looked at places. We didn't want to jump the gun and get excited about a home when our place wasn't even sold yet. So, we sat back and waited. Occasionally, we looked at a few homes for fun but nothing serious.

Now, you could say I'm obsessive when it comes to certain things. (most things). Research being my #1 obsession. Nothing happens. Nothing is purchased, trips aren't taken, food isn't eaten, medicine isn't ingested - nothing - until I've done my research. Same goes not just for home buying, but for city/township living. I needed to know who lived there, their ages, the income levels, sex offenders, crime rates, taxes, activities, parks, etc. And after much debate. . . we both settled on St. Clair. We loved the lifestyle. The atmosphere. The people. Everything. Every time we took a drive to have a pinic or check out a neighborhood we just fell more and more in love.

However, there was just one teensy weensy thing missing. A house. St Clair is a small town filled with old houses. And old houses come with big problems. And big problems come at a big price. So. You can imagine the look on our faces when we actaully saw INSIDE that cute little historical home by the water. Yep. Some of them were like stepping into a fun house. Everything crooked, rooms in places you'd never imagine, steps so steep they might as well be a ladder. And every time we found something that looked amazing. Back taxes. High Taxes. Broken septic tanks. Short-Sale. Etc!!!

It's kind of funny how we actually found our home. It had nothing we were looking for at the time. We made our list and checked it twice, and this home had none of it.

It was Chris that found it, and I that ignored it. After an exhausting day looking through nightmares and money-pits, Chris typed one last address into our GPS. I knew exactly what house he was headed to and I didn't care. I didn't want it. That is, until he pulled up to a ranch-style home hidden on dirt road. Immediately, I knew. I didn't say it, but I knew. This was it. And it was exact home I'd scratched off our list for lack of everything that I wanted. And it was perfect. Oddly perfect. Never the home I would have chosen on my own, but without a doubt where I knew we should be. And once our realtor showed us the inside I was sold.

I love surprises. And I think that's another reason why I love this house so much. Because God knows what we can't imagine ourselves, and I think He has a lot of fun surprising us with what we really want. Or, at least that's the way I like to think of it. It really is the perfect house for us, to the point where I can't believe I'd ever overlooked it. It's 1658sq ft, it has 4bdrms, a brand new kitchen, 2 full bathrooms, a wall-to-wall - floor to ceiling brick fireplace, a huge backyard w/ a swingset. A large porch, a big patio. AND, tah- dah! IN OUR PRICE RANGE! Seriously? Did I need fireworks and a parade to prove to me this was it?!

The day we made our appointment with the realtor we were both very nervous to walk in the door. It was that type of anxiety you have when you're so sure of something that you just know it has to be wrong. I don't know why we do that to ourselves. Have faith to the point we convince ourselves our faith isn't good enough. Thankfully, God is much bigger than our insecurites. And when we finally walked in that door it was like stepping into confirmation. Once again, no discussion was needed. Our quick glance said it all. This was it. And 1 week later our townhouse was sold and our offer was accepted.

And now, we wait. Not always so patiently to move in. We've since moved out of our townhouse. (which was bittersweet and emotional and an entirely different post) And we're living with Grandma until our home is ready. Which...was technically supposed to be 2months ago. BUT - it wasn't. We had the inspection done right away - it passed with flying colors, EXCEPT, the beloved boiler. It's not broken, but the pipes that run along the baseboards are broken. And, as it turns out, it's taken much longer than we'd anticipated to have the repairs done. GOOD NEWS, we're not paying for any of it. And that IS good news! Bad news? We're moving twice in one summer...oh, with a baby.

Not so much to my surprise, Kamea has adapted well. She's still mostly on her same cycle with a few minor nap mishaps. Nothing we can't live with. She's been happy all but one day. Still sleeping through the night. And generally on the same schedule throughout the day. The biggest change is change itself at this point. Our food is in boxes, our clothes are in bins and suitcases, her toys are scattered and misplaced, and all but our toiletries are packed into its own stuff-apartment until we move for real.

Thank God for gracious family members who allow us to invade their space and don't mind (too much,anyways) being woken up every morning at 7am to a sippy cup banging against a highchair tray during breakfast.

I'd be lying if I said it wasn't inconvenient (for all those involved, I'm sure) but it's an experience. Its forcing us to become closer in ever tighter spaces, it's a good lesson in living simply, and above all - it's a journey.

Which, eventually, is leading us home.

I'm excited. I see so clearly how God has molded every obstacle. I see His hand in everything. And it makes me feel really special to know He cares enough to watch over us.