Alright, the house with the pool? Ew. And there wasn’t a laundry room. It was an open alcove on the back porch, which is uncovered. Upsetting. One of the houses was on a super busy street and the largest bedroom wasn’t the Master bedroom. The house that I liked the best needs a 575 “holding deposit” on it by tomorrow. O.o
So we get home, and OF COURSE M strips herself. D’s got a case of the monthlies… Whiney, cranky, tired; I really need the taxes to hit. It’ll make everything easier, and the possibility of moving a reality. I really just hate moving. I’ve got high hopes for this house; B won’t have to switch schools, it’s within walking distance of the grocery store, Target, and Farmer’s markets. The family NEEDS to be in a house. The idea of being able to send the kids out to play in the back yard feels like a bit of normalcy that they’ve missed out on. Add to that it’s a single story building and I’m excited about it. Really excited. Gotta have it now excited, ha ha.
Then I think about our finances, and I’m reminded of what my mom went through. Living check to check all the time, renting her whole life, at times not having the food to make supper for us, not having health insurance till I was in junior high, the only new car she ever got she had to have my grandfather co-sign with her, and once she had it, nearly getting it repossessed. I don’t want this for my family. I don’t want to be rich, per se – that comes with its own issues. I want us to be comfortable.
What is financial comfort? To me, it is having the money to order pizza if dinner is a crying disaster. It’s being able to buy M shoes, or pay for B’s braces. It’s paying someone else to cut Boychik’s hair. This doesn’t seem like a huge deal, I know. But I want this level of comfort for my family. D and I just have to keep going with school and find jobs.
I mean, the economy can’t stay like this forever, right?