When we get back from our vacation, we'll be just about 4 months from the Zero Day (moving home). Because we have a lot to do before we get there and after we get there, we have started planning the process now. Months ago, to keep myself sane, I was looking up things like houses for sale in the Boise Metro area, the cost of basic household appliances, sale prices at Winco, etc. But I got over that because it turned out to be much more depressing than I anticipated because it was so far away.
Now, Stu has jumped into the planning process with a vengeance. He's got lists and prices and contacts and, and, and...
Now, here is the problem I am facing: I just can't envision it. Sure, when I think about "going home", I picture myself perched on one of Marcia's bar stools, chatting for hours while Judge Judy screams at folks in the background. I picture Ann Morrison park and my son running wild in the grass. And sure, sometimes, I have a vague idea of what a "home" will feel like.
But, Stu looking up the differences in two ranges has me stumped. I light my oven for crying out loud. How do I know if I need an energy star rating or a stainless steel model? I just want one that can turn its self on when I turn a knob! No more squatting down, removing the drip pan, holding a flame to the gas and watching it "POOF" into existence. I just want a modern, working oven!
The same goes with the rest of the appliances. I wash dishes by hand (like 5 times a day because of insufficient supply AND a sink the size of a cool whip container) and truck my laundry up two flights of stairs to wash it. HAVING a dishwasher and a washer and dryer that don't leave soap on my clothes, or fade them from black to grey in three cycles is all I care about.
"The guys" at work have been warning Stu about the dangers of a wife and a new home. They have horror stories about several-thousand-dollar curtains and drapes and endless paint, honey-do lists that go on forever, top of the line fridges, etc. But these are the same women who trot around with designer handbags and A&F pants. They're high maintenance about everything. It's not me. I grew up with frugal parents (ok, my Dad was plain old cheap) and I remember my Mom's sewing machine working over time to get curtains up in our house. They were adorable. They had this sort of country-feel to our house because they were big antiquers back in the day and it totally worked. I remember how "cool" I thought getting to pick out fabric and a pattern for a new sundress was. They worked hard to save money and now they're WAY better off than people their own age. That was instilled in me from a young age. I've always been frugal and now it's suddenly ME having to rein STU in. He is the one who has his heart set on a side-by-side fridge with the freezer in the bottom, and the water hose that he seems to think is going to cost a hundred bucks.
The bottom line is that my perscpective on what is a "want" and what is a "need" has been heavily skewed by living here. I'm about ready to buy a mobile home and all the fancy-shmancy appliances Stu can stuff it with, a couple cars, and NEVER have any more payments in our life. I probably won't actually rationalize that one, but still, material things mean so little to me anymore.
I feel like even though we have the money now for the nice things we'll eventually want, doesn't mean we need to actually buy them now. I definitely want to upgrade some of the crappy stuff we've been living with for the past few years, sure, but I feel like it makes more sense to slowly transition into the nicer/more expensive things like a super fridge and bedroom set.
I want to live within vacationing distance of my family. I want to be able to let my son play outside without the worry of heat stroke (and in grass, not sand and ash). I want to be able to go on a drive on back roads with my husband, just to drive and talk. I want to have a choice about the friends we have and the types of people I want my kid around (my son has started putting crayons in his mouth... Stu thought he was eating them until he removed it between two fingers... smoking. Neither of us smoke, just our lovely friends). All of these things seem so trivial, but they become a lot more important when you're without.
Also, just a little poll: How many of you would kill us if we decided to stay a bit longer? I ask because I think it's retarded that we've decided to go home in the dead of winter (we don't even own clothes anymore that are appropriate for winter in Idaho) and Stu is adamant that we won't have enough saved to go home before winter starts. So my thought? Wait till March if we can stick it out. We'll see. I want to go home yesterday, so we will see how the next few months go. But, thoughts?
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