I’ve been on the quiet side lately because there really isn’t anything that interesting happening in the casa de Adams. With the housing market picking up, we’ve been spending all our free time looking at homes with our realtor (she probably knows us a little too well by now).
After spending nearly the whole day Saturday looking at houses, we found one that we both loved. It had the perfect first floor arrangement that we’ve been looking for—a large kitchen overlooking on adjacent open family room. We liked it so much that we asked my Mom to come with us on Sunday to check it out again. After falling in love all over again, we put in an offer.
We knew it was going to be competitive (the listing agent lets us know that there were already several other offers). So we did the best we could to make ourselves competitive—short of all the crazy things like bust our budget or waive an inspection. While I loved the house, I knew as soon as I heard that we were going to be competing against other offers that we were finito. We simply don’t have as large of a budget or as much money tucked away for a down payment as other people looking in our price range do.
On Monday morning, we got the call confirming what I already knew—we lost the bidding war. The winning offer could put 30% down. Since this house was owned by a relocation company, all they cared about was picking a guaranteed deal—hard to argue with someone who can drop over 100k up front. So if you are keeping track at home that would be bid number three that we have lost.
Normally, losing a house is a pretty crushing experience. There are an incredible amount of emotions flying around when you are making the biggest purchase of your life. To add to that pressure, we know that whatever house we pick will be the house in which we raise our family—lord willing—for a long time. But this time around, losing the bid didn’t feel nearly as heartbreaking.
Considering the world events that have transpired over the last few weeks, losing a bid on a house seemed like a pretty petty thing with which to be upset. While I would certainly love to find our house, the fact that we haven’t found it yet shouldn’t impede on our happiness today in this moment. If we didn’t win an offer, then the house just wasn’t meant to be.
I guess this is the calm and introspection that comes with dealing with a world that is an unpredictable and fragile as ours. We have to learn to see just how privileged and blessed we are even when we are upset. It could always be worse. Life could always be harder.
So I will be thankful for the roof that’s over my head today and for a husband that makes every place feel like home. One day will find that a house that we can call our own—maybe a week from now, or a month, or a year. In the meantime, I’ll focus on the things and people that matter.
