Saturday, January 28, 2012

Vintage Supahmama

October 11th, 2010
...and then I realized it was all a dream.


The first time I stepped into my house, I was not yet married. My future Husband and I walked the hallways of this fallen down, century old, neglected house and I could barely breathe. Not from the must or even from the thick, hot, Georgia humidity. I just didn't want to wake up. This was MY house.

From it's white picket fence...


To the black and white tiled kitchen...


To the built in bookshelves in every room...


To the window planters on EVERY window...


To the rocking chair front porch...


Down to the cozy porch off the back with the trellis ALREADY thick with ivy and God knows what else hanging overhead...


I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to give up what was rightfully mine (or at least, in my head it was rightfully mine.) We very cautiously walked over sunken spots in the kitchen floor from having held appliances that were much heavier than those 100 years ago, contemplated living arrangements between the dozen children we were going to have (I am snorting I'm laughing so hard since I'M the only one who still wants a dozen children now and I've only got two under my belt at this point.) This was my house.

Unfortunately, we were just beginning to take care of all the damage we'd done to our credit scores many years before. Nobody wanted to give us a loan or take a chance on even renting to own with us. We had nothing to our names aside from each other. The house sold, we got married, we got... pregnant. You know what's hard to do when you're pregnant? Be a breadwinner and put your now Husband through school. We ended up moving into my Grandparent's "In-law suite", which is just a nice way of saying, "fully finished basement with kitchen." Three and a half years later, we're still here.

In those three and a half years, every time I start pining for MY house, it goes back on the market. And every time it goes back on the market? Something horrible happens in our lives. I know this house wants me to be it's owner. I KNOW that it's waiting for me. I know that it's patience is wearing thin, much like my own... but good things come to those who wait. Right? I sure hope so.

All I know is I want to wake up one day and be in MY house. Till then, I'm still only dreaming.


Mama's Losin' It

2 comments:

  1. Awwww! It would be so nice if we could all have the house of our dreams, wouldn't it? I LOVE that porch!

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  2. One of my favorite things about living in the south! I love a good "rocking chair" porch!!! And if it wraps around the house? FORGETABOUTIT. I'm smitten!!!

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