We Have Keys

I’m sitting on our front porch - OUR front porch - and I still can’t believe we did it. This morning we were renters. Tonight we’re homeowners with a mortgage that makes my nursing school debt look like pocket change.

We Have Keys

The moment they handed us the keys, I felt this weird mix of pride and terror. We have a garage, you guys. A GARAGE. Marcus is already planning where to put his brewing equipment (yes, that hobby is happening). Sophie keeps running from room to room yelling “THIS IS MY HOUSE!” and Theo is just happy there are stairs to climb. We took the obligatory family photo with the keys because future us is going to want proof that we were brave enough to do this.

The reality after the celebration - paperwork everywhere and pure exhaustion

This is what homeownership actually looks like - me surrounded by paperwork I don’t understand, Marcus trying to figure out how to work the garage door, and the kids treating our new house like the world’s best playground. The realtor left an hour ago and we’re still sitting here like “now what?” But you know what? We have a yard. We have a place that’s ours. We have somewhere to hang Marcus’s crooked shelf.

Time to order pizza and eat it on the floor of our very own kitchen. We’re doing this thing.