We were like, “So what the hell! Parents of a toddler, homeschooling an 8-year old (homeschool knows no summer vacation), working from home, working out-of-home, maintaining said home, lotsa angst over creative career — we’re not stressed enough these days. Let’s MOVE!”

And so we’re moving.

Well, not quite. See, we’ve been doing all of these home improvements so that our house will be all nice and lovely on the market and Brett went and talked to our mortgage broker about what we need to do to make ourselves presentable for next spring. And lo and behold, our mortgage broker (who is a kick ass broker used to working with people to get the most bang for their buck without risking bankruptcy — if you’re in Columbus and need someone, let me know) said that we already look great. So Brett, feeling frisky, got a preapproval letter.

We’re going to bring our agent in this week so he can help us get the house on the market MAYBE and help us see some houses DEFINITELY.

We don’t want to get in over our heads and likely won’t use the entire preapproval amount so we’re still pretty fiercely budgeted. Then it’s hard to figure out which concerns have the most merit:
–An aesthetically pleasing home so we’re happy living there;
–Compromising on aesthetics for improved livability;
–Finding a neighborhood with kids;
–Finding a neighborhood where we can walk to the park, coffee shop, etc.
–The presence of rainbow flags or other indications that we won’t move next door to gun-toting Republicans;
–A smaller house and smaller payment that we risk growing out of or a larger house with a larger payment that will also be more to heat and cool.

Where we’re at now is:
–frantic, late-night surfing at realtor.com;
–random panicking in the middle of the night, waking to say to the other, “But why move when we finally bought new windows????”
–calling our realtor to arrange some showings;
–trying not to think about it anymore then failing miserably.

And why are we moving when we finally bought new windows? Because this isn’t a neighborhood where we feel safe letting the kids roam and Noah’s itching to do some roaming. That’s the biggie. There aren’t even any kids near us so he can’t hook up with friends and arrange his own play dates. (We usually get like two Trick-or-Treaters a year; there are more kids deeper in the neighborhood but again, it’s not quite the roaming-friendly area.) Also we’re growing out of our house — it’s getting a little too small and there’s only one bath, which will be a problem the instant Madison decides she’s through with diapers.

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