It's done. We now officially own 2 houses. Technically, Tim and I could begin living separately if we so chose. Sadly, it's not legal for us to leave the kids at one house while we go have a nice long soak in the tub at the other house.
Because that is wrong.
Last night I had what I hope will be my last meltdown. Now that it's a done deal, I am hoping my brain will recognize the essential futility of panicking over whether it's the right thing to do. Now I can panic about things like double mortgage payments and dual utilities.
You know, normal stuff.
After we signed the 42,000 sheets of paper that constitute our new loan agreement, our mortgage guy, Brad, said to us "I hope your new house is all that this house was for you and more." A nicer sentiment he couldn't have offered. What a mensch.
And this is what I want for us...that all we've felt about this house, the warmth and security, the layers of tradition and routine that define homelife, the glow of memory, that all of that will be ours in spades as we take this show on the road. And that, of course, makes it sound like we're moving 2,000 miles away, when in fact it's slightly less than 3 miles from our current home.
Do I tend to get worked up over nothing? You betcha.
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