For the last year or so the husband and I have been trying to nail down where exactly we would like to move next. By "trying to nail down" I mean: countless Sundays spent house hunting, lots and lots of hours scouring online listings, and a few too many discussions on what it is that we want in our next house (or condo?), city (or maybe we should stay here), yard (or lack there of), community (Big? Small?), etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
I love house hunting. I have said many times that if I could have a second career it would be in the real estate business so I could attend open house galore. But lately I've been really discouraged at the lack of progress we've made and the seemingly endless nature of our search. It sometimes feels like we will never find a house in an area that we love and (the kicker) fits in our budget. After another Sunday spent "hunting" yesterday, I literally felt deflated- like someone or something had sucked all the air out of me. And that's when I decided to let it go. Somewhere in the process of searching, looking for our next home changed from something that was so exciting and fun, to something that we both almost dread. The search will go on, but I have a feeling that when the time is right the decision will be clear.
I returned home from work tonight to a house that I love, even despite its petite size. It may not be big or fancy, but it's ours and it's perfect for where we are now. So today I'm thankful for our home. I know we will move on and find a great house eventually, but home truly is where your heart is, and for now, my heart is here.