When you know, you know
Before our situation changed, before we had any true intention to move, we played the real estate game by attending open houses. I suggest this for anyone who doesn't want to immediately commit themselves to a realtor. Picking the right realtor is an integral part of the home buying process that I hadn't previously considered, and wouldn't come to really appreciate until our realtor, in efforts to move our sale along, bent over backwards so many times that I'm surprised he's not an Olympic gymnast.
It was in the middle of an ice storm (yes, ice not snow) when we came to meet the man who would become our agent. I don't remember why we decided to brave the elements just to see a few homes that day, but like any realtor-buyer love story, this one begins with fate.
By this point, we'd attended about three open houses and were getting a good sense of what we wanted and didn't want in a home. We were like Goldilocks, testing the porridge of each home and never feeling like any were "just right". The home Gary was representing was newly renovated and in great condition, which explains why we weren't the only ones fighting the falling icicles to check it out. He welcomed us into the house without the game show host likeness some realtors tend to lean toward (and which annoys the crap out of me). He told us about the house, asked us what we were looking for, and when we told him we honestly had no intention of buying anytime soon, he didn't push. He casually asked us if we'd like him to send us listings and if anything ever piqued our interest we could let him know. I immediately liked him and had no issues with giving him my real email address, not the one reserved for junk mail. And with that we took ourselves out of the realtor dating game. We were happily committed.
Here and there we'd visit newly renovated homes with him in Rutherford, Nutley and Montclair. While each had most of what we were looking for (3+ bedrooms, basement and backyard space, 2+ bathrooms, enough space to avoid each other when being married is hard, etc) not a single home screamed out "buy me now Lauren or forever hold your peace!". I'd made the mistake of watching way too much HGTV, specifically Fixer Upper, and I wanted a damn farmhouse. Forget the fact that I wasn't buying a home in Texas where there are actual farms, I needed shiplap in my life! And none of these homes were winning me over with their excessively open floor plans. So, when our situation changed so did the direction of our search.
"I think I want a fixer upper, Gary."
"You can really make the home you're own that way, but it's a lot to take on, Lauren, you sure?"
"If all those people on Property Brothers can survive a reno, so can I!"
New listings entered my inbox, some needed a few fixes, the habitability of others was questionable, and there were the ones even the Rehab Addict wouldn't take on. Three months into the search, a home in a part of Rutherford we really liked, popped up. The website photos showed character, but the house appeared small. Still, we agreed to go see it.
Upon walking into the house, we all had two immediate reactions: everything was dark (dark wood, low natural light), but hell, was it way bigger than we thought! Gary left us alone to explore the rooms ourselves and by the time we reached the attic, my husband and I looked at each other, and I was pretty sure he could see the little stars exploding from my eyes.
"This is it," I proclaimed.
"Yeah, I feel it too."
Back in our car, we powwowed with Gary and came up with an intense and immediate game plan to place our first offer. We needed a loan pre-approval letter, a sweet message to the seller that conveyed why we were the best buyers, and a lot of deep inhalations. Maybe this would all have been less stressful were I not on my way to Florida in two days.
We made our offer the evening before I boarded a flight to Fort Lauderdale. And while I tried my best to look interested in outings with my Floridian friends, all I could do was wonder when an answer would come from the seller. Several days later, Gary conference called Matt and I with the seller's counteroffer. And that's how one of the most important decisions in my life was made, as part of a three-way... phone call.
We accepted the counter and then we waited. I sat in my girlfriend's living room, nervously biting my nails as Matt [sitting in NY] and I talked rapidly about the what ifs. I didn't want to discuss the possibility of us not getting this house. I needed this house. This house was meant to be mine.
So when the call came from Gary, my heart stopped. We dialed him in and held our breaths. "Congrats, guys! You are now homeowners!" We'd did it, we'd bought our first house [not 750 square feet of real estate like we'd each previously owned], a real home. And then we both panicked.
"We didn't jump into this too soon, right?"
"I mean, it's not like we'll come across a better house, right?"
"We can afford a renovation, right?"
"The renovation won't be that extensive, right?"
After the initial panic, I remember a sense of calm coming over me. I thought back to that moment in the attic, that moment of clarity. This house was meant to be our home, and part of me thinks my mom, Gloria, was there making us understand that during that initial visit. It's what she wanted for us, and it was what she would help us create.
Next week's post: Updating without losing the charm (with before and after photos!)
