Author: Brett

We have not been out house hunting since we lost the last one. It’s not that we can’t bring ourselves to look even though we are practically in mourning. While buyers all over the country seems to be getting great deals on homes, we have yet to see any houses we want to buy come down in price enough to be in our reach.

We have narrowed our search to two towns: Port Washington, NY, in Nassau County, Long Island, and Westfield, NJ, in Union county. Nothing new seems to be coming on the market since the end of last year (ok, last month if you’re an optimist). We flip between listings in each town. My MIL ponders whether the “new” listing in the New York Times is actually new to the market, or if it’s just new to The Times (every week I tell her that I think that it is new to the paper, but she still asks me anyway). She gives me scraps of paper with MLS numbers scribbled on them. It may or may not have a basement. I am to check it out if I feel like it. Later, she will ask me, did I find out about that house, the one she told me about a mere 6 hours ago? I think back to the last 6 blurry hours of solitary poopy diaper changes and sweeping far-flung cheerios from the recesses of the kitchen, cleaning running noses, rinsing dropped pacifiers, laundry washing, naptime orchestrating, clapping hands to “This Old Man” and “Itsy Bitsy Spider”. Huh? Listing? Which listing?

And does it really matter anyway? It will be, this wonderful “new-to-the-market” property a piece of overpriced shit that we do not want. We are getting really adept at figuring out the diamonds from the dung. Put it this way: if your property description details how wonderful the school is and how glittery the sidewalks surrounding the house are, then you know that you have the equivalent of a date with a good personality. Our favorite angle so far: the house has no backyard, but the back of the house borders some of the nicest backyards on the block. No joke, the realtor actually told us that. Charming! So when our kids get older and want to play outside, we can tell them that no, they can’t, but they can feel free to stare out the window at everyone else’s kids playing in their backyards.

We were supposed to look for houses this weekend, but when the realtor actually tells you that there really aren’t any great listing out there this week and to spare yourself the drive out, then you really know that you’re in trouble. And that’s for homes up to 750k.

We are sure that the “right” one will come along at some point, but we know that it is time to roll. There’s only so long that an adult can live with one’s parents, even ones as wonderful as my in-laws. I’d like to put a statute of limitations on this parental cohabitation thingy, but really, where are we going at this point? Still, it’s hard to watch my husband being forced to once again eat his vegetables and getting brow-beaten for not tucking in his shirt. Perhaps there is a reason why we leave home in the first place.

Maybe you think that I am some kind of miserable person who takes issue with everyone and everything. Suck it up, you are probably thinking. Quit your whining. Well, I wish I had the talent and stamina to renovate from top to bottom. While I find the idea really interesting, it is not for me. I have some grand ideas for my eventual home, don’t get me wrong. They involve a greening of the homestead, if you will, and a redesign for a safer (read: less toxic) environment.

But as the weeks slip by, we just get more and more tired. As you know by now, we have been at this finding-a-house thing for over 2 years and I must admit that we are starting to crack up. When my MIL tried to give Andrew some information on a “new” listing tonight, he went beserk and told her to go away. As he likes to tell me, I have only experienced living her for 7 months while he has had years and years. To which I reply that we should have just rented an apartment.

The more disappointment we experience, the more we feel that we should stick to our guns and find the house of our dreams. At this point, our ‘dream” house is basically a house of any style with 3 or 4 bedrooms that is under a 20 minute walk to the train. At the same time, a rental is looking better and better, if only for the privacy factor. Did I mention all of the twinproofing that we have to do now that the wee ones are crawling (everywhere)?

As another weekend approaches, we scan the listings. Again.

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