As you may be aware, we are currently closing in on buying our first house together after years of renting. It’s quite an exciting time and I’ve never bought a house before so I have been completely oblivious to the whole thing. But so far – these eight emotions seem to have formed the step by step process of buying a house. (Obviously if you’re looking for actual helpful advice – probably time to do a better Google search) as this my friends is the real nitty gritty real guide to buying a house.
Yes you have made it! Your offer has been accepted. BINGO! That is the hard part out the way and you are going to be an actual adult! With a mortgage!! Get in, let’s start doing the “we are going to own our house” dance; your brain goes into overdrive and your computer goes to Pinterest as you plan colour schemes, new furniture and gorgeous finishing touches to YOUR new house.
Once the initial jubilation wears off thanks to a somewhat unhelpful comment from a relative bursting the bubble, and then you get – the fear. You actually realise that having an offer accepted? Means NOTHING. Diddly squat. You are in the absolute infancy of this whole malarkey. Oh and you thought you were worldly wise? You’ll be up to your eyeballs in mortgage offers, solicitors and pesky gazumpers bombarding you with phrases and saying you have no idea what the hell they’re on about. You quickly make your Pinterest board private and keep everything crossed.
You will always remember where you were when you got “The phone call” It’s all actually happening. You are arranging dates and you can almost hear the clinking of keys in your hands. You’ve made it! Where’s the booze to celebrate?!
Hope you kept the cork because before you’ve necked that first glass of bubbles the realisation hits. CRAP. I’ve got to actually pack up all this sh*te sad move it to another house. How the fluff does anyone manage to do ANYTHING with toddler twins on the loose? I struggle to sort socks when they’re in the room so I’m guessing packing up the contents of a house is going to be somewhat impossible. Fab. Pass that booze. I need this, and not to celebrate. Glug.
Your life becomes a sea of boxes. You give up any hope of being able to do/find anything. You curse your husband for getting to escape cardboard city as you are left to restrain toddlers from using the boxes as a makeshift playbarn and try to fling themselves off a stack of boxes whilst simultaneously trying to stop the other child ripping open the contents of every single box. Where’s that corked booze?
6. Brief spell of excitement
Moving day is here! You rope in EVERYONE you know to do it all and to help unpack. After a week of arguing with your sister that she’s not arranging my shoes the right way you can finally see light at the end of the tunnel. And are quite pleased with your new house. Big grin at these bricks that you own.
Yes all your Pinterest boards and hours of scouring the Internet which always results in a purchase soon mounts up. You find yourself obsessing over a duvet set you definitely don’t need but probably won’t be able to sleep without it so you pop to get it (for your health obviously) and come out the shop a few hundred quid lighter. And forgot the linen. And then you realise your spending is quite ridiculous and bank balance is now in a minus. But at least you have 40 pretty wicker hampers that you may need one day.
8. Itchy feet
And just as you think you have finally cracked it (after being forced to sell 37 wicker hampers on eBay – scowl at husband to claw back some money) you then decide after 12 months that you actually want to move as you have forgotten the living hell that is selling/buying a house. And then my friends, the beloved cycle starts all over.