Wednesday, 4 weeks after finding out we didn't get the original house, 10:33am

Me: DREAM HOME HIT THE MARKET TODAY!!! They're holding it open on Sunday.

HIM: Haha address? (clearly not understanding WHICH dream home I'm referring to...)

ME: The hidden one we love that foreclosed.

HIM: Let's go today or tomorrow morning.

By Friday we'd seen the house, talked to the agent, talked to a lender, and learned that highest and best offers were due on Sunday. 

By Sunday, we had gotten pre-approval, submitted our offer, learned that there were multiple other offers, and scheduled an informational home inspection.

By Monday, we had completed the home inspection, and were waiting: outwardly patiently, inwardly freaking out. 

By Tuesday (less than a week after DREAM HOME hit the market), the bank had accepted our offer. And this is how it felt:

Excitement and Anxiety Levels From Live to Accepted Offer

What had we just gotten ourselves into!?!?

Here is where I should have my husband guest write an entry about buying a bank owned property. And some day I will. Our offer was accepted by the bank on Tuesday, but for the next week we leapt through hoops, hurdled over fire, raced around in circles with our eyes closed, and sat silently with our fingers and toes crossed. One week later, the status officially changed to Under Contract, and we were set to close in just one month. 

It wasn't until that day, now almost two weeks since we had sincerely invited in the idea that we might actually live in that DREAM HOME, that it really sunk in. I don't know if it was denial, self-protection, or what, but I had never quite believed that the house would be ours. It was too big, too perfect, while also too imperfect, needing too much work, too expensive, and on and on and on. 

But now it was going to be OUR perfectly imperfect home, and we got to start planning. And boy do I love planning!



curiosity called

curiosity called