We're living in the little house I fell in love with this summer. There's a longish story behind it, but essentially we were able to make an offer on the house that involved us renting the house for six months before we could buy the house. The supposition was that I would get a job and be able to qualify for the mortgage with no problem. Partner ran the numbers and the mortgage payment was going to be a little steep for a few months while I was the sole earner, but we felt we could do it.
Then life happened. It took me longer to land the job. I had offers, but in places I didn't want to work. I finally got the "dream" job offer, but the Big Urban Hospital wasn't able to offer me a place until April, starting me after we were supposed to close on the house. Our mortgage broker pre-qualified me and noted that she thought she'd be able to get me the mortgage with just the letter of offer. We're waiting to see about that.
In order to make it happen, I need to continue to borrow money from my parents, something I am more or less loathe to do, but it's necessary to make life spin for the past few months (like being able to afford diapers and milk, and yes, it has been that bad). Borrowing is something I will keep needing to do in order to be able to afford to make this house work. My mother finally agreed to help me with the house, but noted in a voicemail that although they would continue to loan me the money I needed for the next few months, neither she nor my father thought I was making the right decision.
I'm lost a little. Is it a good idea to buy a house that we can easily afford when we
seems to be splintering more every day? Is it a good idea to continue to borrow money from my mom and dad?
I'm annoyed and angry about this. I already blogged about it a little, but I just feel that as a working nurse in a major metropolitan hospital, I should be able to afford a home in a safe city on a nice street. My house I want is 925 square feet. It's small. It's not extravagant. It has a nice little backyard and a detached garage. There are window boxes on the front the windows. There are cherry cabinets, only a few, in my tiny kitchen with lino floors. There are two small bedrooms, the "master" only big enough to fit a bed and two nightstands. There's a beautiful back porch I want to sit on this summer with friends, a tree branch full of leaves brushing over our heads.
Sometimes I think maybe we shouldn't go forward with the purchase, but the fact is that I love this wee house and I love my neighborhood and I love my street. I love the way Cricket already knows the name of his street. I don't want to move again. I just want to win the fucking lotto and have a healthy down payment that will make the monthly mortgage payment reasonable and I just want to live in my little blue house at the end of a cul de sac.
I'm not sure what I'm looking for with this post-- I don't know that I want advice unless it's telling me to go for it. I am as scared of buying the house as not buying it. I'm again, in a whirlwind, like everything else in my life right now, lost about not know up or down. Looking for change in the cracks of the couch... Literally and figuratively.