My house needs a new roof – as soon as the custom glass skylight is repaired. We didn’t know it was custom glass until we went to get it fixed and nobody wanted to touch it.
Once that’s done we’ll have to repaint the cathedral ceiling in the living room where there’s water damage. That’s annoying because we just painted the entire room ten months ago when we first moved in.
And our pool needs resurfacing.
We negotiated a credit for half of that cost after the inspection but we spent that money on repairs that weren’t disclosed or caught in the inspection: fixing the sewer line and waterproofing a “finished” room in the basement.
Though we’ve had WAY more repairs than anticipated in our first year living in our “new” home, we’re happy here.
Each new obstacle brings frustration but also offers us another chance to put our stamp on the forever home we’re creating for our family.
So we didn’t get a turn-key ready home: there are worse things.
If my kids are going to realize the kind of future I hope for them with the sort of values I’ll instill in them, we’ll have to work at it. Sometimes together, other times alone, but always in tandem for the good of the household.
My whole mentality changed once we decided this was our “forever home.” We moved in planning to spend significant time and resources redesigning things and knowing it would be a decades-long process to make this the home we know it can be.
Despite its flaws, it’s clear this house has been well-loved by several generations before us.
Incredible thought was put into both the original design and the addition, as well as the landscaping, drainage, and outdoor entertainment spaces.
Clearly, some mistakes were also made and some other things just no longer fit the needs of a modern family. Like the 8-track player built into my basement wall.
For now, our visitors can appreciate the beauty of a few select rooms we’ve updated and then magically transport themselves back 40 years simply by walking into any bathroom.
Why do I own a brown bathtub and oddly contoured toilet? Nobody knows.
It’s like seeing a pay phone on the side of the road. We know WHY it was put there but it’s surprising that it’s STILL there.
I’m not accountable for the decisions the previous owners made but I’m definitely responsible for what happens going forward and we’re tackling each obstacle head on as our resources allow.
It’s easy to get discouraged when things go wrong (and it absolutely isn’t your fault) but I refuse to let negativity and cynicism become defining characteristics of my children’s childhoods.
By moving into a house that clearly needs work while bringing two kids into a world that clearly needs work, my wife and I are the living embodiment of the poem Good Bones by Maggie Smith, which reads in part:
Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the state of our home lately. Not just our new house but our town, our state, our country, and world.
It’s hard not to when the summer of hope so clearly boomeranged back towards despair.
We’ve been defeated in Afghanistan. Hospitals in some of our major cities are rationing care. California is burning. Soldiers’ families are grieving. Authoritarianism is on the rise.
So we didn’t get a turn-key ready world: there are worse things.
I refuse to let negativity and cynicism become defining characteristics of my children’s childhoods.
That’s why, after 11 blissful years out of local politics, I’ve stepped back in as a candidate for the Board of Education. It wasn’t an easy decision to make due to the highly-charged issues that lay ahead in this deeply divided time.
If our kids are going to realize the kind of future we hope for them, we’ll have to work at it. Sometimes together, other times alone, but always in tandem for the good of us all.
It’s going to take a lot of work, but our kids need a home. Luckily, we have one with good bones.
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