The Keys to Everything

We did it. We actually did it. After two years of looking at houses that were either too expensive, too small, or had that weird smell you couldn’t identify, we are officially homeowners.

The Keys to Everything

The photo of all four of us on the front porch with the keys - Marcus holding Theo, Sophie clinging to my leg like a baby koala, me holding those keys like they’re made of gold - this is going to be THE photo. The one we frame. The one we’ll look back on in twenty years.

I keep walking around saying “this is our house” like I’m trying to convince myself it’s real. We have a yard where Sophie can run around without me having to chase her down the street. We have a garage where Marcus can store all his… projects. We have a mortgage that makes me want to hide under a blanket, but we also have EQUITY, baby.

Sophie already claiming her territory in the flower beds

Sophie’s already claimed the flower beds as her personal sandbox, which I’m pretending not to notice because homeowner problems are different than renter problems, right?

Marcus spent an hour just opening and closing the garage door with the remote like a kid with a new toy. Theo slept through the entire walkthrough, which I’m taking as a good sign. This house is going to see Sophie lose her first tooth, Theo take his first steps, probably at least three more of Marcus’s hobby phases, and hopefully many, many years of us figuring out how to be the kind of people who own a house.

We’re home.