The Elusive “Perfect House,” or HOUSE SEARCH 2010-2011™

I’ve had dreams of houses. Houses are one of my most frequent dream subjects, in fact. I dream of elaborate, older homes with wings and multiple levels. Sometimes, they seem to spread out for a mile or so. I can remember almost every one of these houses. Their mazes of levels and picture windows complement their large backyards. They aren’t opulent; they are unique.



In my dreams, the houses never feel like mansions. I am often alone in the homes. When someone is visiting, they comment on the design of the home. It’s not that I’m showing off the houses, it’s more like the space is mine and not similar to any other home.

Last summer, we started searching for that perfect house. We picked the worst time in fifty or so years to sell a house but one of the best times to buy. When we began our search, the tiny houses like our current property were still selling for 75$ per square foot while the 2,000 square foot homes were closer to $70. It was (and still is) the perfect “move up” market.

Our Sunday open house ritual began in July and did not end until the middle of November. I drug this family through tiny homes, majestic homes, ugly homes, old homes, blue homes, one-story homes, new homes -- We found some amazing homes that were close to the ones in my dreams. We actually did attend an open house for a home with three levels. We saw one that had a pool house and a hidden den in the master bedroom. Both of these were homes that, had our house been sold, we would have foolishly bought because they were only about $40,000 out of our price range (sounds like a lot of money, but it’s less than $400 each month).

The home that we are purchasing is not one that I would have chosen when we began our search since I was looking for that dream home – literally, one from my dreams. My first reaction to the home that we are purchasing was that it is lovely but not expansive enough. I don’t like that the downstairs area isn’t as spread out as I would had envisioned. However, I noticed something while touring the hundreds of homes that we’ve seen since July – everyone lives in sections. No matter how large or spread out your home may seem, you only live in certain rooms at certain times. Once I had that realization, the definition of my dream home changed.

I stopped looking for an ideal and started to think about our practical needs. It was one of those moments where I stopped being a selfish little bitch and started to think about everyone else. The home that we selected is in an amazing neighborhood that is not an HOA. The neighborhood has a creek and a park. The house is across the street from two schools that Elissa would attend. Rob can have his media room, and I can have my “formal” living room. Eventually, we will build that sunroom that I have always wanted. And, the price is stellar. (The mortgage that I was willing to pay while house hunting suddenly changed once I received the actual numbers from our lending agent.) Somehow, the reality of the numbers made them grow and stand six feet tall when they were only about two feet tall while sitting on the pages of my spiral notebook).

Stubbornly searching for some ideal was about more than just being an egomaniacal douche, though. I think that part of the reason for these many house dreams is that the only time I lived in a house for more than a few years was when I lived in Florida in high school. Otherwise, I was in apartments. Likely, I started to associate actual homes with family, which becomes difficult for most children of divorced parents to define. I remember my childhood home in Florida, and I remember the home that I lived in while I was in high school with my Dad, half-sister, (ex)step-mother, and (ex) step-sister. Briefly, for about two years, I lived in a home with my Mom and step-father in Texas. In my memories, these homes define those times of my life. I wanted this for my own family – a home. I wanted it to define us.

But, the home doesn’t define the family. The family defines the home. So, we will make our memories in this red, two-story brick home located in an amazing neighborhood – there will be parties and movie nights and sleepovers and arguments and Thanksgiving meals and homework at the dining room table and breakfast and entertaining pets and tears and family. A house is a shell; the people and energy within it make it the perfect home.


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My high school theatre teacher always told me not to make excuses for my performance. However, since I was the one who initially worked so hard to encourage everyone to start blogging again, I figured that I needed to explain the reason that I haven’t written anything since the blogging began three weeks ago. Drama. There was house drama, the beginning of the semester drama, and sinus infection drama. I sincerely apologize for abandoning the Blogomania 2010. You all were always on my mind, though.