Marrying a House

Near the end of the adventure that was Buying Our First House, my eye started twitching. As a rule, my eye does not do this. In fact, the only other time my eye began to twitch of its own volition was a month or so before my wedding.

I had a hunch this nervous tic would reappear before we closed escrow. At some point between “This house is perfect; I must have it!” and “That $%&^*% seller, what’s he done to us now?!” it occurred to me how oddly familiar it all felt. The jaw clenching. The eye twitching. The stubborn breakouts. The emotional eating and consumption of too much alcohol. The look Chris gives me that says, “I’m a little afraid of you right now.” Was I buying a house or preparing to get married?

Thankfully, I don’t foresee another wedding in my future, but I can certainly see similarities between house-buying and marriage. It all starts with the hunt for the fit that is just right. The road to just-right is rife with duds, detours, and the occasional red herring, as in, “This is so wonderful! Oh wait, scratch that – Danger, Will Robinson! RUN!!!!!”

House duds won’t tell you that they like how you’re “thick” when you’re already battling anorexia, but they may sport lime green kitchen counters and bedroom walls with holes.* Sometimes, you will fall in love and believe you have found The One, only to realize he still isn’t over his ex-wife and is a little too obsessed with Gwen Stefani, or you discover there are already six cash offers with which you can’t compete.* You may experience rejection along the way and wonder, “Am I not good/smart/pretty/sexy enough?” or “Is my credit not good/smart/pretty/sexy enough?”

The same principle that applies to looking for a life partner also applies to house hunting: never settle. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself saddled with a mate who says things like, “We’re committing a mortal sin right now” while living in a converted church in the ghetto just because it has 5 bedrooms and is cheap.*

Once you find the right fit and decide to make a commitment, the real fun begins. You wait, plan, wait, freak out, and wait some more. If you decide to elope immediately upon becoming engaged, that effectively eliminates all of the above as far as the wedding goes. I was not that smart. When it comes to buying a house, you have less control over the waiting. This is where the eye-twitching et al comes into play. Breathe deeply, take it one moment/crisis at a time, focus on the end goal, balance the over-imbibing with some exercise to work off the tension, and pray. A lot.

The magic day arrives. You’re married! You’re in! Ah, but all is not happily ever after. No, this is the beginning of the epic adventure of getting to know your new spouse/house on a more intimate level. You think you know what you’re getting into, but you have no idea. Trust me. He takes his sleep apnea mask off multiple times during the night and gets really grumpy when you tell him to put it back on. You discover the washer’s drainpipe is not hooked up properly and the garage floods. He keeps knives in the strangest places, like strapped to the top of the shower doorframe. If you try to run the washer and flush the toilet at the same time, sewage backs up into your bathtub.*

You love your spouse, and you love your house, but there are moments where you think, “Life was so much calmer and simpler when I was single and renting.” Despite all that, it’s worth it. Truly, it is. You make peace with the knives; the county cleans out the pipes; and you look forward to a lifetime of enjoying your just-right fit, surprises and all.


* Sadly, I did not have to make up any of these examples.