My First Hanukkah - Creating Our Own Traditions

Last year at Hanukkah, we were in the middle of our Intro to Judaism course to study for my conversion and had just moved into our house, so our Hanukkah celebration was a little slapdash. We gave each other a few presents all on the first night, and we lit the electric menorah that my parents had given us, placing it in our sunporch window at the front of the house. That was pretty much it.

This year we made sure to get each other eight gifts and are only opening one per night. We have more decorations around the house that we bought on clearance for 90% off last year after the holiday - a little sign, two sets of dreidels, a crystal dreidel for our dining room table, dish towels, and two menorahs. We used the book our rabbi gave us that has blessings for home rituals to say the blessings for lighting the menorah.

My family is infamous for the quirky things we make into traditions. Everyone has traditions, of course, but we can be very ritualistic about the most arbitrary of things. Like the recent development in the past decade of a tradition of having a Krispy Kreme donut on Halloween morning - where did that come from and how did it become a thing?? It's one of the things I love about us, and Nicole is very patient and flexible (and sometimes amused). Since Hanukkah is new for me, the creation of traditions were just sort of tumbling out as we went along with whatever seemed "right" to me. So here is what we have already set into motion after just one season - and actually, just two days so far of one season!

We light the menorah and say the blessings. Then we put the next bulb into the electric menorah. Then we sit at the table and have "family time" until the candles have burned out, approximately an hour or less. This family time can include exchanging a gift, eating dinner, reading together, talking, anything. But we stay around the table. A gift cannot be exchanged until the menorah is lit, signifying that the next night of Hanukkah has begun. You can pick which gift you'd like to open from your pile, unless the giver has a reason to ask you to open a specific one that evening.

I am loving Hannukah rituals. I love that it lasts for EIGHT DAYS. It helps it not to be so anticlimactic. For eight days we get to light our beautiful menorah and exchange a gift and celebrate. It's not over too soon. I also love exchanging one gift at a time. I feel like it gives us a whole day to really enjoy that item and revel in it rather than having something get lost in the pile. Tonight Nicole gave me a lush bathrobe, and I will cherish it all day tomorrow while I eagerly anticipate the next gift. Oh glorious torment! I looove dragging it out like this.

Nicole does not love the torment quite as much as I do! She misses waking up to a pile of presents. She misses getting everything at once, and dragging it out day by day is less enjoyable to her than it is to me. We have always been different in that sense - I love the anticipation of a happy thing or event and it kills Nicole to wait! But even as she misses this, her eyes light up as we kindle the menorah and she joins me in the blessings without me having to ask her or give up trying. It warms my heart to watch her love of Jewish traditions grow as we go through the year. I just have to meet her halfway on this to help ease the tension for her. Like tonight we had Thanksgiving dinner at her parents' house, and as soon as it got dark (which was like 4:30!) she was antsy to get home and open another present. We lit our menorah there and I told her that as soon as it had burned out, we could go home. Once she knew what to expect, she was fine and relaxed and enjoyed the family time until it was time to go. I just had to keep my promise.

Nicole's mom said she hadn't realized Hanukkah was coming so soon and said that she had to get better about that and have a gift for us. I told her that we are happy to celebrate Hanukkah within our little household, and that we are fine with having our families exchange gifts on Christmas which is their holiday. I said that our kids will grow up knowing their extended families on both sides celebrate Christmas, and we are okay with them being included in that. We are secure enough in how we are creating a Jewish home that we can allow them to celebrate our families' holidays with them. Similarly, Nicole's brother and his fiancee, neither of whom identify as Jewish, come to our house for Rosh Hashanah dinner - they don't observe the holiday as a New Year for themselves and won't with their kids, but they come to celebrate OUR holiday with US, because it's about coming together as family with what's important to us. If my parents lived here, they'd be coming over for dinner too! It's the family togetherness that matters, and I'm about building connection and inclusion, not barriers.

Speaking of "Thanksgivukkah," I made latkes for the first time this year (and yes, said a "Shehechiyanu" at the stovetop!). Nicole has made latkes all her life, so it was very meaningful for me to be able to join in that tradition. It also helped me in a subtle way to bring Hanukkah into our Thanksgiving dinner since I knew it would otherwise by overshadowed. I used a recipe I found online for sweet potato latkes with homemade cranberry applesauce, and they were delicious! Nicole doesn't eat sweet potatoes and ate at least four of these. They were praised and quickly devoured by Jew and non-Jew alike, and I was so, so happy.

Yes, I am nostalgic for some of what I left behind. Of course I am. But I am so happy and fulfilled by what we are creating together!

Making a Jewish Home

Early in the year during one of my meetings with the rabbi to study for my conversion, I asked her if there is any Jewish tradition around blessing the home. I told her that my multi-cultured coworkers told me that their traditions and cultures all have something like that, and that it is the first thing you do when you move in, so I was curious, and also we had a mezuzah we'd gotten as a wedding gift that we still hadn't put up because we didn't really know how. She hesitated and then said, "We could do something like that if you wanted. Kind of a Jewish housewarming, you could have some friends and family over and make an event of it." I said I'd love that, but inside I worried that her response meant there WASN'T really anything like that and she just didn't want to embarrass me so she was kind of trying to create something. Which in turn embarrassed me. So I didn't plan to bring it up again.

At my conversion in April, I received several more mezuzahs as gifts. Then I went by Rabbi's office in August to say goodbye after Nicole arrived to pick me up from some event, and I was talking to her about our garden and she said, "Did you ever get those mezuzahs up?" I said, "No, we still haven't!" And she said, "Do you still want me to come over and help?" And I said, "Yes, I would LOVE that!" I was so excited that she had brought it up several months later. It made me feel like she hadn't just been pacifying me in the moment earlier in the year, or trying to keep from hurting my feelings, but actually thought it'd be something nice to do. So we said we would aim for October or November after the High Holy Days were over. I also told her to bring her husband and daughter and we would have a nice, intimate gathering with some snacks, nothing fancy or elaborate.

So it happened today, and it was just the perfect day. We had my in-laws over, so my carpenter father-in-law did the actual hammering. We also had my friend Allyson and her husband Josh over. We had also invited A&A (our fellow queer couple from temple) and their two little boys, but they canceled the night before because one of the parents had pinkeye.

Nicole and I have spent over a week scrubbing and cleaning and re-organizing the house and even finalizing some much-procrastinated decorating, like putting up our wedding photo canvas. I took such pleasure in preparing for this little event. We went shopping for a TON of healthy and wholesome snack foods Thursday night, and today after Torah study we zipped home to get everything together before Rabbi came over at 2:00. So while she was busy doing Tot Shabbat and a Hanukkah workshop for preschoolers, we were cutting up cheese and fruit, baking brownies, changing out our placemats, chopping up veggies and making dip, and wrapping the little Hanukkah gift we had bought Rabbi's 7-year-old daughter.

I'm pretty sure I was already getting misty-eyed as soon as we opened the door for our rabbi and she gave me a hug. There was something so beautiful and emotional to me about welcoming her family into our home and hosting them. There was also a little bit of the feeling of a second-grader whose teacher comes over - "and look, this is my room and these are my toys and this is my cat!" It was such an unusual way to interact with her, to have her in OUR space instead of at temple, and I just loved it. Everyone stood around the kitchen and then around the living room chatting cozily as if we were all family. My heart was so happy and full.

After almost two hours of talking, I started to worry that we were keeping Rabbi and that she was just too polite to rush us to the mezuzah-hanging. I didn't want to assume that she planned to spend her entire afternoon here when she just offered to come over and help! So when she took her daughter to the bathroom, I got out the mezuzahs and started arranging them on the dining room table. I figured when they came back out, she could take my cue and approach me about them and get things started. But she walked right past me with her daughter who wanted to go spin the dreidels on our coffee table. That was my first major indicator that Rabbi was having a good time too. That we weren't imposing ourselves on her, or putting her out of her way, or squeezing ourselves into her schedule. She truly enjoyed spending time with us in our home.

I actually had to bring it up when Allyson and Josh said they had to get going. I asked if we could put up the one on our front door all together before they left, and that got us started. Rabbi explained to everyone what the mezuzah is and said some nice words about our new home and the people in it and taught us the blessing for affixing the mezuzah. We recited it together and then my father-in-law affixed it. Rabbi said, "Is this a moment for a Shehechiyanu?" That's the blessing for new things and special moments that basically thanks God for bringing you to this place. It's a wonderful way to freeze a moment, fully immerse yourself in it, and appreciate what is happening. I said, "Since I'm already crying, I'm pretty sure it's appropriate to say it!" and we all sang it together.

We moved to the next one, which is shaped like a Torah scroll and was given to us by Nicole's grandmother. We chose that doorway because the sunporch is used as our "study" and has all our Jewish books and our Torah. Rabbi asked us to read the words on it, and I said out of insecure panic, "We can't read Hebrew! We're working on it, though." Then after I paused for a second, I recognized the first few letters and said excitedly, "Wait, SH'MA, that says Sh'ma!" I was so proud of myself reading those three Hebrew letters. So then we said the "Sh'ma" prayer all together.

The next mezuzah is shaped like a tree of life, and we put that in our living room because that will be the center of our family life at home. So then Rabbi sang a song about the tree of life that none of the rest of us could sing but was really fun!

The next one was made out of copper and had been given to us as a wedding gift by Allyson over two years ago. After that we hung up two more outdoor ones, the rainbow one given to us by A&A for my conversion which we affixed in the doorway to a storage room in our basement, the one our friend Jen gave us as a housewarming gift a year ago which we affixed in the doorway from the kitchen to the basement, and then finally the one with the pretty pink flowers which we put in the doorway of our bedroom. Because it was the last one, Rabbi gave everyone a chance to say out loud good wishes for us and our home.

Rabbi also gave us a housewarming gift of the book On the Doorposts of Your House which has guides to different family and home rituals, and her husband included bread, salt, and a broom which he said is a tradition of many European cultures.

The whole day was so awesome. I loved having Rabbi and her family in our home, and I loved the specialness and meaning she helped infuse in the ritual of affixing our mezuzahs. It would not have been nearly so special if we had just gone around nailing them up on our own!

Edited 11/17/13 to add that I just realized yesterday was the one year anniversary of our closing on our house. On 11/16/12, a Friday last year, we giddily grabbed the keys to OUR new house, which burned a hole in our pockets during that evening's Shabbat service. How incredibly touching to realize that, without planning it or even realizing it, exactly one year later we gathered with people we love and sanctified our home by affixing mezuzahs and saying blessings together and celebrating.

Life Updates

1. Last Friday night, Deborah Feldman, author of Unorthodox: The Scandalous Rejection of my Hasidic Roots, came to speak at our Shabbat service. First of all, just HOW FREAKIN' AWESOME to have a bestselling author come to our humble synagogue and spend time with us. She is a natural storyteller, so her speech was riveting, and then she wrapped it up in a decent amount of time so she could take questions and engage with the congregation's curiosity. She signed books at the oneg (shockingly few of us had actually brought the book to be signed) and we got to have a little chat there too. I told her that coming from the South, Judaism itself had been quite a mystery to me, and even now after my conversion, the ultra-Orthodox world she came from was completely foreign and shocking. (Ultra-Orthodox sects, contrary to what one might assume, did not actually exist until fairly recently...it came about as a response to the Holocaust, for Jews who believed that was a punishment for assimilation and felt they needed to make themselves stand out isolated from the world far more than they were.) Deborah said, "You left the land of barbecue to come here?? Please tell me you can still have pork ribs!"

Rabbi on the left, Deborah Feldman on the right

2. Last Sunday was the New York City Marathon, and my brother-in-law's fiancee ran in it. She was never an athlete and just took up running about two years ago after she got out of law school and before she found a job. Talk about inspiring. Nicole and I grumbled privately to each other for a while about having to go into Manhattan on such a crazy day, but we ended up having a great time. It's such a different feel from, say, a parade. Participants are working so hard and the spectators are there to support and cheer on, not to be entertained. We gathered at two different spots to see her pass by, and then we were meeting up with her friends and family at a bar afterward where my brother-in-law had rented out a little loft area for the group.

Watching the race was unexpectedly emotional for me. Seeing two different blind runners who held a rope circle with another runner to keep in line, people running on blades (the prosthetic limbs designed for athletics), people from all over the globe, a woman bursting into tears of exhaustion as soon as her partner stepped out to hug her at Mile 23 so then he ran alongside her for the last three miles.

Between our second spotting and the time we would all be meeting at the bar, there was over an hour to kill. And as we turned to walk with everyone, we realized we had been standing right in front of the Jewish Museum the whole time. I have been wanting to see the Chagall exhibit that leaves in February and figured, like always, we would never end up making it in to see it. We're both such homebodies and it takes a lot for us to commit to spending a day in the city, and the museum is not in a location convenient at all to Penn Station even, which makes it require extra motivation. So we looked at each other and lit up and both said alternately, "Really? Do you really want to? Can we? Is it okay?" Meanwhile my brother-in-law was encouraging us to go. He was so grateful that we had all come out to support his fiancee and wanted us to get out of the cold and do something we'd enjoy while we were there. We didn't have to be told twice.

The Chagall exhibit was awesome. He was a Soviet artist who moved to France and then to the US right before the war, so he had a lot of guilt and distress around what was happening to his fellow Jews back in Europe during the Shoah. I'm not even close to what one would call "cultured" or "a sophisticate," and I could appreciate the very obvious change in his works from before the war to during the war. They got much darker, lots of black and red and sad images. It was fascinating. Then on top of this, we got to see the rest of the museum where we'd never been. An intimate and quiet spontaneous date in the middle of a packed, crowded, and loud day.

3.  I'm super excited about "Thanksgivukah," the very rare, less-than-once-in-a-lifetime coinciding of Thanksgiving and Chanukah. I've already found a pumpkin latke recipe for the combined Thanksgiving/Chanukah dinner. The Jewish world is lit up with excitement and creative ideas over this holiday combination, and it's such a fun energy. But I have one minor issue - I don't know how to decorate!! It already feels strange sending holiday cards before Thanksgiving, but when to change out the orange and brown leaf-themed kitchen towels for the blue and white Chanukah towels is causing me more than a minimal amount of distress. We have a little box that looks like a miniature crate and says "Apples, 50 cents" on it that we use for our napkins and salt and pepper shakers on the dining room table. It's perfect for fall and Thanksgiving. But then we have a nice blue basket with white snowflakes and silver tinsel that would be perfect for the same purpose for Chanukah. When do I trade them out??

This is the fatal conflict: I hate decorating for one holiday before the preceding one is over, and I love decorating far in advance for each holiday so I have time to enjoy the decor. So what to do you do when they happen at the same time??

Our rabbi offered to come over and help us put up our mezuzahs, BLOWING MY MIND as to the role Jewish clergy can play in your life....this is beyond incredible of her and I'm excited out of my mind. This is next Saturday and because I'm ridiculously psyched for it, and because she won't exactly be a frequent visitor to our home, I want everything to be perfect. We've been toying with a date for a couple of months, and I had been very excited about cutesying my house up with fall decor...til we finally confirmed a date that is only two weeks before Chanukah, and now I want her to see our Chanukah decor! But while Chanukah colors fitting a winter theme is normally perfect, it's definitely not while we're not even at Thanksgiving yet.

Yes, I could put both baskets out, both sets of kitchen towels. But boy do they clash, and it goes against the perfectionist in my brain (who only makes rare appearances but this is most definitely one of them).

Chanukat

Opening Our Home

After much deliberation, we decided to take in international students through a program at the college where my mother-in-law works (Nicole's own alma mater). My mother-in-law took in international students through this program for about two years, and has been on hiatus for about the last year. We held off on this conversation for the few months that we were renting out a room to Nicole's friend's girlfriend, and we started talking about it again soon after she moved out in June.

We have two spare bedrooms. One is set up with a twin cot, desk, and chest of drawers, and the other is a guest room with a full bed and a dresser. We figured we could have a student in the room with the desk, and still have a guest room for ourselves. However, after the homestudy when the reviewer saw our setup and the space we have, she gently pushed us to consider taking a second student because they don't have enough homes for male students. She promised it would just be for a month (on average, they stay anywhere from one to three months) because he hoped to find a longer-term living situation and stay in the area for school after he passes the English proficiency exam. We reluctantly agreed, figuring what was feeding four mouths instead of three, for twice the pay? So we gave up our guest room "just for a month" and set up a little folding chair and table for his laptop.

The students arrived yesterday, both from China, and it was at once completely awkwardly uncomfortable and so much FUN. The student who is only slated to stay a month is more comfortable with English than the other student, and it ends up they speak the same language so he helps the other. Having two students was the best thing we could do - they have each other to do things with and talk to outside of family dinner time. And Nicole and I are enjoying the challenge of forced parenthood  to young 20-somethings: setting explicit rules, putting up a shower schedule on the bathroom door, planning meals in advance and making sure they're taken care of if we're ever out. It's kind of fun! (It's also fun watching them get used to new and unfamiliar American things, like zucchini! And to hear the one less comfortable in English coo "Hi, Jackieeee" to our cat as he goes upstairs, like he always hears us do. Adorable.)

At the same time, we happen to have two Australian friends of Nicole's staying with us for about five weeks (three more to go). They were only supposed to stay with us for a week or less while they adventure in the Northeast before going to an October wedding in Ohio. However, they had an enormous financial setback right before their trip but already had their airfare and didn't want to cancel the entire trip. So they asked if they could stay with us the entire time since they wouldn't have money to stay in hotels in other cities.

I admit that we did not have a warm, gracious, open welcome in our hearts immediately. We made sure to in our actions, but we struggled with adapting to having two other people in the home all the time, especially since their styles of living are not the same as ours. We let ourselves feel frustrated and impatient and irritable, though we kept smiles on, and we felt guilty about it. But it's a classic concept in psychology that, contrary to common belief in the opposite, changing behavior changes attitude. "Fake it til you make it" is very real and backed by science. And soon we were enjoying having them around and it was suddenly very fulfilling that we were helping them out.

So our quiet little family of two is, for the moment, a house of six. As we watch the boys scarf down our home cooking with great expressions of gratitude, as the Australians offer to cook chili con carne one night and one of the boys asks if he can cook us a Chinese meal another night, as we ask them about their day and speak clearly and slowly using simple words to help them practice their English, I feel a fullness and happiness in my heart. Right now, today, this is our family, and the fullness of our house brings me such joy.

This hospitality, our open door and open arms and open hearts and full table, makes me feel more Jewish even than any of my beloved Shabbat services ever could.

Circle of Life

Just last week, I basked in happiness as I watched a female cardinal take a bath in our sprinkler the first day that I watered our newly seeded patches of lawn. She fluffed and preened and shook and was just so enjoying herself from atop our fence in the spray of water that my heart was overfilled with happiness and gratitude.

This morning we came back from temple to a dead baby bird in our driveway. She was perfectly intact and it must have just happened because there were no bugs around her and they just started coming in the time it took us to dig a hole for her burial. She was on her back with her head back, as if she had fallen and her neck had broken. She looked too little to be out of her nest, and I didn't see the nest anywhere. She was so beautiful, every tiny perfect detail of her, and I scooped her onto my trowel and buried her beneath a hedge.

Then I took advantage of the sun between two major rain showers (one of which had made gorgeous music on the roof of the sanctuary) to transfer my seedlings from their cups to the ground. I still felt so sad about the bird, but had to transfer that energy into nurturing new life, life that will help sustain us.

There was too much nature happening in my own backyard today. Beautiful and sad and overwhelming.

Being such an emotional person feels like a curse almost as often as it feels like a gift.

Growing Life (in our garden)

My parents are visiting from South Carolina this week. We timed this trip for spring so that Dad could help us with the yard, and they drove so that they could bring tools and machines to help. They also used this opportunity to bring up things of mine that were stored there since I'm in a house now. The most special item to me is the antebellum cradle, circa 1837, which my grandmother brought home from her antique shop when my mother was born, and which all three of us slept in as well. It is now in my basement, awaiting its future placement upstairs in the yellow room.

Today was our first full day of yardwork, and we got SO much done. We weeded, took the poles down that were supporting our trees but had been up probably for years too long, put our new electric lawn mower together that was a gift from my parents, planted vegetable seedlings in starter pots, tilled my gardening area, and re-shaped and enlarged an area that has bushes so that we could plant our blueberry bush there too. The dirt felt so good and alive in my hands, and I realized how sorely I have been missing my connection to the earth. I grew up by a dirt road we would walk down and watch tadpoles in a puddle. I was both a camper and a camp counselor in the Blue Ridge mountains. I played in the woods in my own backyard, letting my Barbies swim in the creek. Becoming a city girl has left me heartsick in a way that only an experience like this can start to heal.

As I sifted the beautiful, soft Long Island soil between my fingers, marveling in the difference between that and the unrelenting red clay of my homeland, I saw worms come up, squirming frantically upon their exposure. I watched them wriggle and then carefully carried them - at least five in total - to the other gardening area that was ready, in an attempt to minimize the loss of life that would occur when my father used the tiller on this plot. My family was very patient as I carried out my rescue mission, and teased me affectionately when we later saw a robin looking to snack on one of the very worms I had saved from the tiller. But can't you see how much more peaceful and natural that is? That didn't happen because of me, and served a purpose in the world, which makes all the difference.

As Nicole and I finished planting the blueberry bush and stood back to view her, looking so small and fragile and vulnerable as a mere stick in that large plot of soil that we had just created out of patchy lawn, we smiled at each other and I said a soft "Shehecheyanu" that only we could hear.

What a feeling to help nurture life, and the very life that will sustain us if we can keep her alive long enough.

I can't wait to start on the vegetables.

Home Sweet Home

We had our first big snowstorm since moving into our house in early December. It was gorgeous and magical - but we don't have a super to shovel it for us!

Jack watching Nicole brush off her car Friday, before the big storm

Saturday morning

Nicole said she wouldn't mind shoveling if I came outside to be with her. So we bundled up and headed out early Saturday morning.

 Nicole is thrilled

me offering moral support

While outside, we met all three neighbors that we border - but not one of them said hello first! I've been in NYC for 8.5 years and still sometimes struggle with the fact that neighbors don't wave and say hello when you walk or drive by. I saw the man next to us out shoveling and he kept sort of glancing over at us, so I smiled and said, "Good morning!" He returned the greeting and then asked us how we like the neighborhood, etc. Then we saw the neighbor to our left, an older man who was huffing and puffing red-cheeked over his snowblower and sort of stuttering out an apology as snow arced over us. 

Then we went to the back to shovel that piece of sidewalk. (Our driveway goes out into the side street, behind the corner house next to us.) To our delight, we noticed our small section of the sidewalk and our driveway up to Nicole's car had been snowblown! So we just had to shovel the small amount that gets left behind. I noticed the neighbor wife behind us out on her lawn sort of looking at us, so after a continued silence, I again initiated contact by saying, "Good morning!" She struck up conversation with us, introducing herself and welcoming us to the neighborhood. It turns out she was outside as a moral-supporter too, while her husband was down the block helping the elderly neighbor. Nicole asked if he was the one who had done our driveway, and she said yes. How considerate!! We thanked her profusely and chatted while we brushed snow off the car.

It's amazing how friendly, warm, and welcoming people can be when you push past their initial suspicious nature. They're curious but don't want to be the first ones to reach out. Are they afraid of rejection, that they'll be ignored or that someone will be rude to them? I'm not sure. It's a headscratcher to me. But this southern girl will get to these hardened New Yorkers, just you wait. I'm planning to bake cookies for the neighbor behind us to show our appreciation for the snow help. Resist me. Go ahead, I dare you.

I still remember the shock and slight suspicion on my neighbors' faces in our last apartment when I brought each family on our hall a bag of from-scratch Christmas cookies. And I brought my rabbi half of the sticky toffee pudding I'd made the afternoon of one of our meetings so that she could take it home to her husband and daughter. It warmed her through to her lap because it had just come out of the oven. And my second year here, as my internship was coming to an end, I bought a cake for the nice guys at Subway who made my day with their kindness when I went there for lunch every day. I only didn't bake them cookies because my cubicle-neighbor said, "awww, sweet girl - they're not going to trust that. They'll think they're poisoned and throw them away. You don't just give store employees baked treats. It's not normal, and you'll waste your energy because they won't eat them." Whaaaa? Devastated.

My mama taught me manners, my culture taught me civility, and I firmly believe that baking from scratch with real butter is an expression of love. No amount of time here will turn me into a snubber, much to Nicole's embarrassed chagrin. I need community around me. This neighborhood will be MY neighborhood - I will conquer it yet!

Almost There!

We are almost moved into our house, and it feels so amazing. Nicole and her father and cousin moved all the furniture and boxes in Friday morning, and then we spent today cleaning, arranging, and unpacking the kitchen. We just need to get the cats over there, pack up the clothes and dishes from our current temporary apartment and take them over, and then we can really move in. Our living room is so cozy and our bedroom is so bright and sunny. I am in absolute heaven.

My father-in-law has been painting the rooms for us, and today he did the future nursery. Seeing it finished, in a soft yellow, just made it so real. Even Nicole, who is often resistant to talking about babies because it makes her nervous about finances, said, "There's really nothing else this room can be. It's really ready for babies." I get lost gazing into it, imagining starting our family. When I flopped across our just-put-together bed, I pictured the kids running in early on a Saturday morning to make sure we're up. I can't believe we're here, in our home.

Happy doesn't even describe it.

Homeowners!!!

It is absolutely surreal that we became homeowners two hours ago.

We started to get a little anxious when the seller and her attorney weren't there after almost an hour. (We were there 20 minutes early.) They were both late separately, which was kind of obnoxious. We used that time to write out a few checks and sign about a zillion documents.

The seller was awesome, icing on the cake. It feels so good to buy a house from someone who is warm and eager to see it go to good people. She is a middle-aged widow with six grown children, and she and her husband lived in the house since 1984 when they moved in with their two babies. Our agent had told us that she was moving because her husband had recently died, and it was all I could do not to cry when she told her attorney, "I brought Teddy's death certificate in case you need it again." They had just put work into the house, seemingly anticipating staying in the house for quite some time still. I can't imagine raising your family in a house and then leaving when your partner dies, after renovating the bathroom together, putting in custom window treatments, etc. Making it yours now that your kids are out of the house. She said the next project was going to be to refinish the wood floors. I said, "Oh we are doing that before we even move in!" and she got so excited. She said she wished she would be able to see them, and I told her to feel free to drop in next time she's in town.

She said that the house was "always busy and full of family and love," I told her we hope to give it that same life, and she gave me such a warm hug. She said she's grateful to be living near her son in Connecticut now, because otherwise we would probably start to wonder about the strange woman we keep seeing in the driveway.

Before meeting her, I felt guilty about feeling so happy to get this house when it's because of such terrible circumstances for someone else. But after we spoke, I felt so happy and at peace. She raised her family in this house, loved this house, tended to this house, and now she is passing it on to a new family to continue bringing in that same energy. It almost feels like the house has a life and spirit of its own. She seemed genuinely happy to see it go to us, and also happy for this whole process to be over so that she can have it behind her and settle in in CT, where she now has a job and a home near her son and her very young grandchildren.

After closing, we went over to the house just to see it and try to grasp that it was really ours. Nicole isn't as sentimental as I am, and is not generally able to sit for long (or sometimes at all) in a place of joy and appreciation before anxiously planning the next thing. So I had long ago let go of the romantic notion of a picnic on the living room floor or a glass of champagne or even just sitting snuggled in a corner of an empty room. I let her pace downstairs and I went upstairs and just cherished every piece of this that is OURS. I touched the wood, the blinds, the bathroom cabinet, the glass doorknobs. I pressed my lips to the wood frame of our bedroom doorway and inhaled the smell. I stared into the small middle bedroom that will someday be our nursery.

Our home.

Hurricane Sandy

At first it was kind of fun. I remember Hugo hitting when my family lived about 30 minutes from the South Carolina coast. We woke up with our above-ground pool in the neighbor's yard, but as an 8-year-old, it felt like an adventure. We were stocked up on food and water and hunkered down together, all sleeping in one room so us kids would feel safer. Some part of me thought it would be like that this time, except with less damage.

I'm not 8 anymore.

Board games by candlelight and cooking a random assortment of thawing food wore out its welcome after about 24 hours. Then I started to feel crazy. I read on the living room floor, up against the glass doors, and start to feel panicky as the sun sets. I wake up and shower in the cold, and get dressed in the dark, and feel depressed and antsy to get out. I walk around the neighborhood and see trees through people's roofs and on their cars. I see telephone poles snapped in half. I hear on our emergency radio that 100 houses burnt to the ground in Queens. I have to figure out how to get to work with no Long Island Railroad, very limited subway service, and a city out of gas. People are desperate and panicked, siphoning gas from other people's cars, breaking into fights in lines at gas stations that just got a shipment, forming lines over a mile long waiting for gas that just came in and then having it run out when they pull up to the pump eight hours later. Grocery stores are empty because they're without power. People who depend on hourly wages are struggling to feed their families until their workplaces open again and until they can get transportation there. Lower Manhattan is in complete chaos - dark, flooded, and with no subways. Rats are roaming the streets because they got flooded out of the subway tunnels. Homeless people are camped out in the lobbies of apartment buildings whose electric security is down. Cabs are out of gas and the few running subways stop at 34th St and are so packed that you literally get carried onto the car by a mob. Roads are packed the first day after the hurricane because no one can use public transportation, and empty the second day because everyone is out of gas.

It's eerie and post-apocalpytic. For every story of someone helping someone else, there is another of someone taking advantage. Nicole and I are huddled in our cold, dark basement apartment, refusing to leave the cats as neighbors around us (or at least those without generators), and ultimately even my in-laws, flee to the homes of generous family and friends whose power has been restored.

We were supposed to close on our house Monday. All closings are adjourned and pending re-inspections at the bank's expense. We are trying to figure out our next step when we are in oases of power, like at work or at Aunt Laura's a mile away. Our Halloween rock-the-dress photo shoot was canceled and our photographer is cheerfully reaching out to us to try to reschedule when we can barely keep our sanity intact.

I'm grateful to be alive, grateful that both the house we live in and the house we are buying are both okay, grateful that we filled on gas before the storm and stocked up on dry goods and water, grateful to wake up in our cold apartment with our cats happily snuggled up against us for warmth, grateful for salaried jobs where we can take days off if needed without affecting our ability to pay bills. But I'm also tired, depressed, lethargic, and, six days later, really ready to have this behind us as a memory.

Catching Up

This post will not be so thoughtful and from the heart because I feel like I mostly just need to give a general update, since I have not posted in a month. This will feel a little more like my old journal, where I mostly just logged events for memory, as opposed to using this as an outlet to think things out as I go along. But right now I need just that, a log, because feeling overwhelmed at all that I've missed zaps away what small bursts of motivation to write I've felt in this last crazy month. So here goes.

1. A week before August ended, after much anxiety at not knowing what would happen, we asked our landlord if we could get out of our lease because we were in contract on a house. He gave us the number for his broker, told us to have him list it, and said that we could leave if the broker could get it rented. This was on a Friday. By the next Tuesday, they had found a renter, but they needed it for September 1 so we would have to be out by Friday night. HOLY COW. We had the option of turning this down, of course, and trying for a September 5, 10, or 15 renter - but the prospective tenants were in a tight spot since the apartment they were supposed to move into had just flooded, and it was difficult for us to give up a sure thing and have to hope we would find someone else later. It was also nice knowing we wouldn't have to pay any more rent and could put away more toward house expenses. So we made it happen. It was a crazy few days, but by Friday night we were in my in-laws' one-bedroom basement apartment, with the vast majority of our furniture and belongings stored in their garage.

2. So here we are! We are waiting for a mortgage commitment, and getting a little anxious because the date stipulated in our contract is fast approaching, but in the meantime it's a pretty comfortable living arrangement. I am LOVING taking the Long Island Railroad in for work every day. It is about 15 minutes longer than my previous commute, but infinitely more comfortable. I only take two trains instead of four, and I almost always have a seat. This means I actually have time to get fully and comfortably absorbed in a book. I cannot wait until I am walking to the Floral Park station instead of Bellerose, going to and from MY HOUSE every day. I'm also loving the neighborhood. It's so pleasant to walk in. I miss our apartment because it was our space together - the first place we lived in as a couple, and as newlyweds. But I don't miss our neighborhood at all, and I think that might be a first for me. I am, however, missing dearly my colleague who lived across the street and with whom I have become so, so close. Our commutes both feel so lonely now, and we desperately try to fill the void by spending more time in each other's offices at work than we ever did before.

3. I celebrated my first Rosh Hashanah earlier this month. I work for a Jewish organization and have always gotten the holidays off, but this is the first year that I haven't just seen them as freebie days. I thought I would resent that - but I didn't. I so enjoyed the services and the sense of community and celebration. I enjoyed thinking of the New Year as the birthday of the world, and connecting that to a chance to start fresh as people. I am struggling with my choices around food, so I resolved to make a small, realistic change for now in order to get on a better track. I resolved to take better care of this body I've been given by not putting trash into it. This does not mean everything I eat will be healthy (though ideally it would). It means specifically that I will work to avoid overly processed foods. When I'm craving a crunchy, salty snack, a bag of Lay's potato chips has the ingredients potatoes, oil, and salt, whereas a bag of Cheetos has so many I can't count, nor can I pronounce most of them. So the choice would be clear. Should I regularly devour bags of Lay's then, because it's less processed? Of course not. Limiting junk food in general and being careful around portion control is very important, and I will continue to try to be aware of this. But I know that in order to be successful, I need to set achievable goals and start small. I will choose chicken, rice, and beans from the Dominican restaurant near work instead of McDonald's. I will choose ice cream instead of cartons labeled "frozen dairy dessert" (you have to check with different flavors from the same brand).

4. Last week was my first Yom Kippur. This is the Jewish Day of Atonement, and boy was it work! Fasting from sundown to sundown was the least of it. We went to every single service, which we had not originally planned, and it was excruciatingly exhausting. When I mentioned this to a couple of Jewish friends and colleagues, they said we were crazy, and that they never go to all of them. But not only did we feel the need to know what they all were, we also needed structure for the day since this was new to us. It's supposed to be a solemn day, though there is certainly joy in forgiving and being forgiven, and what would we be doing at home to mark it? You're not really supposed to be having fun while asking God for forgiveness, so what would we do without playing on the computer or watching TV? Would we pray by ourselves all day, or read Torah? And if that's the case, then why not actually go to services? The first was Tuesday night from 8:00-10:30 PM, then Wednesday 10:00 AM-12:30 PM, then 4:00-5:15 PM, then 5:15-6:15 PM, then 6:15-7:00PM, followed by a breaking of the fast. The prayers really helped focus me, and pointed toward things I would not even think of as sins, things we are all guilty of - neglecting or turning our eyes from someone that needs us, for example, or exaggerating a truth for our own benefit. It was really thought provoking. We were also challenged to apologize, make peace, and offer restitution where we have gone wrong. We heard many times that God offers immediate forgiveness for wrongs against God, just by asking, but that where we have wronged others, we can only atone by making peace with them. I love the extremely difficult challenge in this. And I put it into practice by writing an apology note to a former friend with whom I had not spoken in three years. In my initial message, I did not offer excuses nor point out her part in it, but simply apologized for my role in how our friendship ended, the actions for which I was responsible, and the things I wish I had handled differently. She immediately responded with acknowledgement of the courage she knew it took me to write that, and with ownership of HER role in the situation. It was a powerful feeling, and I will never forget how my first Yom Kippur changed my life.

5. On a much lighter note, my brother got married on September 9th in Las Vegas. We had six weeks' notice of their nuptials, because they were not expecting our attendance but simply giving us the option, and of course we all wanted to go. My sister and I left our spouses at home and bunked with my parents to make the last-minute trip more affordable. My brother and his wife had a whirlwind romance, becoming engaged three weeks after their first date and getting married five months after that. I met her at my sister's wedding, a couple of days after they had gotten engaged, and was skeptical and cautious, protective of my brother whose heart had just been shattered the previous December. This trip to Vegas gave me a much-needed opportunity to spend more time getting to know her and to watch her relationship with my brother. I can tell she is genuinely in love with my brother, and it is amazing to see. She is a down-to-earth, goofy girl who is a great fit in our family, and I wish them both all the best.

Speeding Along!

We've been frustrated for so long that now it feels like everything is moving so fast! We were told Wednesday that we are officially in contract and need to go apply for a mortgage. AHHHH! Then Nicole became even more anxious about our lease and if we can't get out of it. (It ends February 1, and the last month is paid, so worst case scenario would be paying through December.) Her mind started running away with her, and she was talking about scenarios such as renting out our second bedroom for a few months.

I nipped it in the bud by calling our landlord that afternoon. I'd had so much well-meaning advice from others, which I'd sought out because I was nervous about not presenting it "right" and being mowed over, and all of it just made me even more nervous. But seeing my wife's state of mind made me take the plunge, and I ultimately decided I just had to be honest and straightforward. I called him and said that we were in contract for a house as of that day, and that this had happened more quickly than we'd anticipated and we hoped there would be a way to resolve the lease. He paused and then said if his broker could rent it out, which he tends to do very quickly, we could go. He gave me the guy's name and number, and I called him. 

I told the broker that I'd spoken to the landlord and he'd given me the green light to have the broker list our apartment. The broker offered such sincere and exuberant congratulations and said he would happily list it, and when would we need to be out of there? I told him as soon as possible, and he asked where we would go if it was rented before the house was ready. I told him we'd already planned to move into my in-laws' basement apartment while the floors are finished and the walls are painted, so we can do that anytime, and I would not want any delay if there is a potential renter. He asked if we were okay with having the super let him or his staff in if we're not home, and I said of course, since that will speed up the process. He said, "Ok, I can rent this in 1-3 weeks. Are ya ready?" He said he wouldn't rent for September 1 if he couldn't give us adequate notice, though I'm not sure what would be adequate since that's a week away!

This conversation happened around 4:30pm Wednesday, on his cell phone while he was driving. Thursday afternoon Nicole got off the elevator to see a broker and a young man leaving our apartment. HOLY COW. So we bought boxes and bins yesterday and are spending this weekend trying to pack away everything we won't need. We only want to bring what's necessary for about two months of living into Nicole's parents' house. I don't want to unpack twice. Clothes, toiletries, four dishes, a pot, a pan, etc. The rest will go straight to their garage and won't get touched until we can move it all into the house. 

I'm getting in touch with my inner minimalist. Who knew? For years I tried so hard to acquire (albeit on a budget) because I kept growing into bigger spaces and needing more "stuff" to make it feel like a home, and to make ME feel like an adult. I'm always ticking things off the list - still need a real coffee table (we're using an old TV stand), end tables, a china cabinet, a real dining room table... I'm having a BLAST packing things away, reducing my life to just a few boxes of (perceived) necessities. It's much more fun and fulfilling than it probably should be!

Allowing the Excitement to Grow!

The seller's attorney should have received the contracts today. We haven't heard yet whether the homeowner has signed, but...Nicole just noticed this on Redfin. (Click on it to make it larger.) GIDDY!!!

(Almost) Officially in Contract!

I can't believe how everything is happening for us with this house. After the last post where I began to let myself hope again, we had yet another heartbreak - we were told the next day that someone had offered full asking price and that the owner had accepted that offer. We couldn't match that, and we certainly couldn't surpass it in order to be competitive. There was a lot of crying (me) and anger (her) and discouragement all around. We banded together in a way we haven't had to in quite some time, so I guess I can be thankful for that. The support was just as mutual as the grief.

Meanwhile, we resumed talk about the house in Merrick, but we just couldn't regain our initial excitement about that house. It wasn't Tyson. However, we had to move on, so Nicole said she wanted to see it again before making an offer. I was working late the next two nights, but I didn't feel such a need to see it again, so I arranged between Nicole and the realtor. Nicole had her parents meet her there. I got a full report from all of them afterward. Her parents thought it was worth making an offer but told us the highest they would go considering a few obvious issues with the house. Nicole and I talked it over, and on Wednesday Nicole's mom asked if we wanted to make an offer. I told her that I know it sounds silly, but I was holding out some hope that something would fall through with Tyson and it could be ours - and I didn't want to go too far with Merrick and then find out we could have had a chance with Tyson. I knew it was a long shot, but I wanted it badly enough that I didn't want to close the door.

Then John called on Thursday to say that as soon as they had gone into contract, the buyers started trying to negotiate the price down. They had only offered the asking price to get themselves in the door ahead of other offers and were now playing games. The seller was turned off by this and wanted to accept our offer. John told her that they can't keep toying with us, so that she would have to accept it immediately before anything is even written and would have to agree to stop showing the house. She did!

We stayed nervous because technically, even without her showing it, someone could make another offer and she could still accept it over ours. But it all seems good right now. We got an attorney that day, who was a personal recommendation from my brother-in-law's girlfriend who is an attorney, and the seller's attorney sent contracts to ours on Friday. Our attorney was out of the office and called us on Monday, and we went in at 7:30 a.m. Tuesday to meet with him and sign the contracts. We scheduled the inspection for Thursday at 10:00, because I would be off that day for a Saturday that I worked recently, and the lawyer said he would hold onto the contracts and send them out as soon as we call him to say that the home is structurally sound.

The inspection went AMAZINGLY. We used the same guy that inspected a house in Levittown that we'd made an offer on. We'd backed out of that after his report showed some serious issues, such as with electrical and plumbing. He couldn't believe how much better this house was and kept telling us how glad he was we didn't go through with the Levittown house. He raved about things I wouldn't even have known to look for. He told us never to get rid of the toilet bowls because they are really expensive and top-of-the-line - who would have guessed?? He said the renovation of the full bath was a $15 or $20,000 job and that they didn't chintz on it; the cabinets are solid, the plumbing was done in an ideal way that's more expensive, and the fan is a $2 or $300 fan that runs silently. Everything that they did in the house was properly installed and solidly constructed. The owner is a middle-aged widow, and I think they put a lot of money into the work they did because they thought they'd be there for life. But after he died, she moved to Connecticut to live with her son. It's kind of a weird feeling that we are benefitting so much from their tragedy - but I'm glad their home that they put so much love and work into is going to help raise a new family and give them amazing memories.

After the inspection, I called the lawyer immediately and told him to go ahead and send out the contracts. I guess we will hear from him when she has signed, and then we will be officially in contract! Much scariness lays ahead, particularly with applying for a mortgage, but at least we will be securely locked in without the threat of someone else taking it from us. This house is so perfect for us, and worth the tug-of-war on my heart!

Dare I Hope?

The first time I walked into a Jewish synagogue and opened a prayer book, I saw this: "Pray as if everything depended on God; act as if everything depended on you." This is a running theme throughout Judaism, and something I love about this belief system. There is no "let go and let God" mentality. Yes, trust God and continue communicating with God, but don't use that as a reason for inertia.

Anyway, I thought about this last night after leaving a voicemail for the realtor about the Merrick house. We had been playing a bit of voicemail tag in my efforts to make an offer. Nicole's mom asked yesterday if we were going to make an offer, and I told her that I was trying to reach the person but that I was hesitant. She asked if I didn't think it was right for us, and said that if we're set on Floral Park, we shouldn't settle. I said that we're not at all set on Floral Park, especially since we haven't seen anything else decent there in our price range. I said that we had LOVED the Merrick house and were 100% confident in making an offer before we ever saw Tyson, so it wasn't about Merrick not being right for us; it was about not being able to let Tyson go. It's THE ONE. Then I told her that I had this slight fear that we would start to go through with Merrick, be caught up in the process, and find out the offer on Tyson had fallen through and we would have had a chance after all. Nicole's mom asked if I would feel better if she called John the realtor back to confirm that the offer was accepted, that it's going through, and that it's a dead deal before I call back the Merrick realtor. I said YES, please, that would make me feel much better. At least I would know we'd done everything we could and it was out of our hands.

So she called John back and upped our offer a little bit, to just above the other offer. (We shouldn't even know what the other offer is, technically, but apparently John knows the owner and has more information than he should.) We also reapplied online for a new preapproval as soon as we got home from work, and we were granted it. So he said we may actually have a good shot at this. But the catch is - I think he told them we could put 20% down, which we definitely can't. We can do 10%, and even at that would have to borrow some from Nicole's parents for closing costs. (They don't just have it - they would take out a small loan and we would pay it back with interest.) Would this be a dealbreaker if John corrects that misinformation for the owner? I don't know. It doesn't make sense to me that it would, because as long as we're approved for the mortgage, the owner still gets her money. If anyone should be worried about it, it should be the bank, and they already take care of that by slapping you with PMI.

I have no clue whether this will work out for us. There could be an accepted offer already. The homeowner could tell the other person that there's a higher offer and ask us both to give our best (which we've already done!). I'm nowhere close to confident about this. But I'm relieved to be back in the game. If it doesn't happen, I'll know it wasn't because I didn't take action or because I gave up as soon as I heard there was already an offer. After that, it's out of my hands.

Heartbreak

I dared to indulge in a daydreamy, glowing post about the amazing house on Tyson, inviting others to share in my anxious excitement, and a few hours later got a call from my father-in-law that our agent found out there is already an offer on the table. And a hefty one, too. One we can't outbid. We are devastated. We had anticipated the unlikely but possible kinks that could arise, but this is one we certainly didn't expect - he should have done his homework before taking us. We never even should have seen the house. And now Merrick is less appealing because we let ourselves love Tyson.

Merrick is beautiful, though it did have a couple of drawbacks. We came home from seeing it set on making an offer. But we figured we should just see this last one we'd been told about before doing so. And we fell hopelessly in love. And now it's gone. Could we wait it out in case it falls through? Sure, but that's a gamble because we could end up with nothing. We DID love Merrick before seeing Tyson. Myrtle Beach looks like a great vacation and you're completely happy with it until you think you might be able to go to St. Thomas for the same price. Then when no flights are available to the Caribbean, Myrtle Beach is a bit of a bummer. How do you regain that initial excitement? Does this mean we SHOULDN'T be bidding on Merrick? Was this to keep us away from it? Do I even believe in signs like that?

We loved the house in Merrick. We loved how unique it was, how much character it had, the beautiful kitchen, the sweet backyard. But it has nothing on Tyson. We dreamed ourselves right into that house, no matter how much we tried not to. I could picture where the Christmas tree would go, how we'd be able to pull up the driveway in the back and go right into the kitchen with our groceries, where we'd put a vegetable garden.

Will we be happy in Merrick? Sure. But I worry that I'll always wonder how nice it would have been to have that super short commute, to be able to walk up to a sweet village, to make that beautiful home ours. If we had just never seen it, we would be ecstatic over Merrick. That kills me.

I hope I can let it go. Time heals. And who knows, maybe Merrick is gone too and we will just start over.

Holding my Breath

I've fallen in love. Hard.

We've had so many disappointments and near misses when it comes to househunting that I almost feel like it's bad luck to let myself get hopeful - until I remind myself that I'm not superstitious and I need to allow myself to get cautiously excited. And that means being able to talk about it without fear of "jinxing" it, and opening myself up to having to talk about the hurt too if it doesn't work.

We've been looking for a house for about a year, as I've posted about before. Houses in Long Island are so expensive, and the taxes are even worse. It's impossible to get anything livable under $300k, which is insane to me because that could practically get you a mansion where I'm from. This has made the search all the harder; if we could afford $450k, we'd be just fine. But we have to hover between $300-$350, and it doesn't get you much. The few times we find something that seems to be getting us quite a bit for that price, it's snatched up before we can even get a glimmer in our eyes. Mortgage rates are low and it's a competitive market, and our price range isn't. People who have been casually thinking about looking for a house at some point in the future are grabbing at NOW because of the market. We are just starting out and just happen to be caught up in the rush.

We looked at a couple very promising prospects yesterday, which had me feeling more hopeful than I have in a long time. We were actually ready to make an offer on something we saw out in Merrick, when Nicole suggested we look at that one last option that this Floral Park realtor (John) had to show us. He lives in the area, has become very friendly with Nicole's dad over the past six or nine months that we've been working with him, and he said we could just call him up because the houses are empty and he has the keys. Up until now, he's mostly shown us two-family homes, which I'm really resistant to but trying to stay open to since Nicole and her parents are both okay with it (they would go in on it with us and rent out their part), unaffordable single-families, or dilapidated affordable single-families. Floral Park is just expensive. So while it's a nice area, I certainly don't NEED to be there. I've actually started to really like Merrick, and we've continued to look farther out on the island while John shares new listings as they come up.

John took us over to this house but I could tell he really thought we weren't too interested. Nicole's dad had told him we had gone back out to Merrick to look at the other house again (Nicole wasn't with me the first time), and John was pretty sure (as were we!) that we'd make an offer there. So he was informative but relaxed, not at all pushy, and we just absorbed everything.

The house sits about a block off of Jericho Turnpike, the main road. (The Merrick house was only one house away from a main road, so this was actually further off than what we'd already been willing to settle for.) It has a house on each side of it, then some sort of business building (not commercial, but I'm not sure exactly what it is) closer to Jericho. There is a small, two-story apartment complex across the street. The house to the right is on the corner, and there is a stone Verizon building across that street (an office building, not a store). Then there are houses on every other street. So THAT is part of why this house is actually in our price range. If you're looking in that neighborhood, the streets that are all residential are going to be more valued than the street that has a few houses and a smattering of other things. They aren't big commercial buildings, and the street is connected to the rest of the neighborhood where our kids can play, go to cookouts, and trick-or-treat, so it's not a big deal to me. I'm okay with that being our compromise!

It's a desirable, populated area close to the city, so the houses are narrow and long to maximize space, with the bottom floor being railroad style. The house was built in 1925 and has clearly been very well taken care of. You walk into what is either a large mudroom or a small sunroom. It has a ton of windows. Then you walk into the modest-sized living room, and then you walk through to the dining room, and then the kitchen. The stairs (which are beautiful!) go up from the dining room. All the floors and moldings are original wood and they are so gorgeous! The doors are original with these interesting looking cut glass knobs. We both love the cozy charm of the house - we wouldn't want to replace or change any of that! The woman who owns it now does something with blinds for a living, and she has brand new Anderson windows with nice blinds in them (some wooden ones downstairs!). She also replaced the front door recently. So the things that needed fixing are fixed, and the things that don't, she left alone. It's perfect. The only thing needed is a good sanding of the wood floors.

Upstairs is a long hallway with a railing to the left looking over the staircase, two small bedrooms and a GORGEOUS remodeled bathroom on the right, and then the modest-sized master bedroom at the back. There is only one small closet in each room, but again, something I'm willing to compromise for everything else that is perfect. There is room to put in a wardrobe, so I'm fine!

The kitchen could use some updating. It has old, cheap cabinets and countertops. However, they're clean and workable, so that would be a "someday" dream." The appliances are all brand new. And it has my little dream of a window over the sink! I don't know why I want that so much, but it's just always been a part of my vision of a house. Something that has always made having a house stand out from having an apartment is the idea of washing a dish at the sink and being able to look out at the yard. I don't know why it gets me so much, but I look for it in every house, even though it's obviously not a dealbreaker.

There is a half-bath off the back, a door to the basement, and a door to the backyard. The basement is finished and looks just like the other rooms - wood floor, white walls, good shape. It's a nice rectangular shape (we've seen some crazy basement layouts!) that you could easily make into a playroom, rec room, or even guest room once the upstairs rooms are occupied (omg!). The washer and dryer are down there in a little utility room where the oil tank is.

The house is run on oil, but the stove is gas. So there are gas lines in the house and you could convert to gas heat for about $5,000, which would be a much cheaper bill. This is true for the Merrick house too, but most of the houses we've looked at are either fully on oil with the option to convert for about $10,000 (because there is no gas in the house) or without the option to convert because there are no gas lines in the neighborhood. So this is a HUGE plus.

The backyard is small and a reminder that this is sort of an urban house. But it's THERE. There is grass, there are nooks where I can put my vegetable garden, there is an area for kids to play. There may not be enough room for a full swingset like I'd envisioned, but there is play space.

I'm nervous. We've made a low offer, and we know what we're willing to go up to. The realtor knew our price range and still showed us this, making it clear to us that the owner is ready to go. Apparently they already had a contract and moved out into their new home, and the sale fell through because the buyer's own home sale had fallen through, and buying this was contingent upon selling theirs. So the home is empty and they're paying hefty taxes every month while not even living in it.

I'm also hoping that there isn't a lot of activity on it because I don't know of an open house having happened recently. Usually when we make an offer, it's amidst a flurry of other interested potential buyers and we know our offer is competing with people who can probably pay closer to the asking price. I'm hoping that no one is really looking at this one, and that the owner will be so relieved to have an offer, that they will work with us a little. And I hope no one else suddenly comes forward with a better offer. We know now that we can get approved for a mortgage, so if we can just cinch a sales agreement, we might be good to go. I don't want this to slip through our fingers. It's perfect for us. It's sweet, modest, clean and move-in ready, spacious enough without being big and "too much house," and it's in a GREAT location as far as being walking distance to the railroad and so close to the city. I could take any job in Manhattan and have a normal commute, no more than what I'm doing now from Queens. That hasn't been true for anything else we've looked at, because it's difficult to find within our budget.

All prayers and positive energy are greatly appreciated. I'm so ready to build our nest together. We've been frustrated and disappointed so many times, and I'm just ready! This house is so perfectly us that getting it would make me understand why (and be grateful for!) not getting the others.

Happy Mother's Day!

Last night we we went to Nicole's parents' for appetizers and drinks. My father-in-law had brought his mother  down from upstate, so some people were gathering to celebrate with her. Nanny is the only surviving grandparent either of us has. Aunt Sue and Uncle Anthony and their two daughters, Liz and Michelle, came over, and it was so nice spending time with them. I see them at large family events but haven't really spent any time just with them. They were so down-to-earth, and I told Nicole those are cousins I could see us enjoying raising children with, going to each other's events and celebrations. Nicole said they have always been her closest cousins growing up, and that she was so glad that I had this reaction to them. Both of them are in long-term relationships and are expecting to be engaged very soon, so we could actually be on a similar timetable.

Because of this, the conversation turned to children quite frequently. As always, I talked about how ready I am, and Nicole made jokes about how she would be ready in about five years. It's nice to have relatives reinforce for Nicole that you can't always start a family in such a linear fashion, with everything perfectly in place, and that we shouldn't let home-buying be such a hard and fast ultimatum for having babies. NYC has a crazy cost of living, and it's not typical for 28-year-olds to be able to afford their own home here. We may have to settle for buying a co-op (NYC's version of a condo, with slightly different rules) for five or ten years, so that at least we aren't just throwing money away into rent while we save. Or we may have to continue living in an apartment for a while longer and not put off having children until we own a home. The white picket fence isn't so realistic here, and that's the sacrifice we're making to stay where we love and have good jobs and protections and freedoms.

The biggest obstacle to babymaking would be if we move into Nicole's parents' basement apartment to save money. They continue to offer this, and I have continued to dig my heels in. I have a lot of pride around the independence I've achieved since moving to NYC at age 21, and the idea of "moving back home" is a really hard pill for me to swallow. I've been frank about this to Nicole's mom, and she was pretty hurt. She said that when she moved into this house, she hoped to be able to help her family by having that apartment (and she has - her mother lived there until she passed away, and Nicole lived there until she moved in with me), and that it is a little insulting that I would think of it as such a terrible thing to live there. I tried to explain to her that it's not that I don't appreciate the help, or that it's a terrible thing to have them upstairs. It's my own sense of being a successful independent adult in a grueling city, having struggled to survive but having moved up and up in my living spaces. I'm now in a spacious, fully furnished two-bedroom with a little balcony and gorgeous sunny windows. Going from that to a basement apartment with one bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and tiny windows near the ceiling is just a hit to my pride. It doesn't mean I won't suck it up to save money and do what's best for us in the end, but I can't lie and pretend it's an ideal solution. I don't mean to be ungrateful, but my reaction is just there.

If we don't have somewhere by the time our lease is up again, February 1, this is what we've decided our next step is. Our landlord isn't respecting the rent-stabilization of our apartment, and raised our rent more than he was supposed to when we renewed this year. We don't want to have another increase next year and even less to put away toward a house. We really need a larger down payment, and we can't save that much while living here. If we moved to her parents', we could save at least $1000 per month more toward a house. That's pretty significant. I'm just having difficulty with the idea of moving our lives into a more cramped arena, with little natural light (a BIG deal for me), and much worse, the idea of moving AGAIN. I haven't lived anywhere more than two years since moving to NYC. I'm constantly packing, and haven't even bothered to hang anything on the walls in the past few years. I'm just tired and ready to be settled. The idea of a temporary move makes me feel exhausted and discouraged.

On top of that, I know this move would delay baby plans. We could try for a baby while in our current apartment, but not while in the small one-bedroom apartment at her parents'. Moving there means for sure waiting until we have a house, which could be another year. Not only would it not be comfortable, but the money it's going to cost us to try to conceive - well, spending that every month would defeat the purpose of our packing away extra money toward a down payment by living there in the first place.

I honestly don't know which I'd prefer. If we do a co-op, we could start trying a year or so sooner, which really makes me lean toward this option. But I also think it's dumb to let a year's delay keep us from getting a house. If just a year of that extra saving can get us somewhere where we can have a swingset and a vegetable garden, instead of a park and a shared courtyard, isn't that worth the wait? If we buy a co-op, we're stuck there for a few years, at least. The housing market will only be improving, selling is difficult and messy, and our kids will be growing without a backyard. Millions of kids grow up happily in NYC without backyards, but I can't let go of that dream.

I'm really not sure what to do. I guess for now we will just keep looking and seeing what's out there, and hope that the answer will be clearer as we near the end of the year.