Y’all. Buying a house is CRAZY.
Some highlights from our Boston home-buying experience…
Step 1: Lack all forms of patience, restraint, and self-control.
When the thought of buying a house first crossed our minds, we said “we’re just starting to maybe, possibly think about it.” (But then less than 2 months later, we were closing on The Crombie House.)
Step 2: Find a realtor with a good sense of humor.
Okay, maybe “good sense of humor” is questionable in this case, but we’re really glad our realtor was someone we could laugh with — someone who shared our affinity for fart jokes. One of the houses we looked at was painted yellow and brown, and we all began regularly referring to it as “the pee-pee-poo-poo house.” (Is that blog name taken?)
Step 3. Figure our your must-haves and your deal-breakers together.
Unlike what seems to be the norm on every HGTV show, we were largely on the same page and really didn’t fight about this. And for two people who are pretty into houses, decorating, and interior design, we surprisingly weren’t that picky (although I’m curious if our realtor would share this opinion…). Looking at houses together was really helpful for discussing and norming on things like:
MUST be at least 100 years old. We wanted character!!!
We prioritized floorplan pretty heavily. It wasn’t the “be all, end all” but…we really wanted a parlor. And nooks.
We wanted to be near the train and near stuff (a CVS, restaurants, etc.) that we could walk to.
We had a relatively high threshold for projects (but had to keep in mind that budget would be a limiting factor).
We were hoping for more than 1 bathroom, in case of guests or unfortunately-timed synchronized pooping.
We realized we weren’t super picky about some things that are common issues for people — for example, we didn’t find ourselves being very choosy about kitchen aesthetics (we figured we’d want to make the space our own regardless), and we didn’t mind being on a busy road (all the better to show off our Halloween decorations!)
Step 4. Send screenshots of burned down and condemned houses around Boston to your families to prove your point that yes, it really does cost that much here.
Step 5. Visit a lot of houses.
We did “drive-bys,” went to open houses on our own, and toured houses with our realtor. Highlights included:
Consent forms, masks, booties. Buying a house during a global pandemic is a unique experience.
All of the times we drove by an open house and saw lines of people stretched for blocks. (…Buying a house during a global pandemic is a unique experience.)
We visited an oddly-high number of houses that grew grapes, and panicked that we’d fail as competent adults who couldn’t keep them alive. Sometimes I wonder, “Did we really walk away from multiple houses because of grapes!?”
…And then there was “the poo juice house.” This house came with a large, shirtless man on the porch, a weird rock wall in the living room, a bedroom that was solely accessible through the only bathroom on the floor, new (yet somehow still gross smelling) carpet being installed, and a pipe in the basement that was actively leaking what our realtor dubbed “poo juice.” (…I feel like I’m talking about poop a lot so far. I guess this blog is only up from here?)
Step 6. Make an offer. Get rejected.
We found a house that I was in love with. It had beautiful curved plaster walls, charming white hexagon tiling and ceiling medallions….even the street name was cute! The seller was a mommy Instagrammer — and we talked about recreating all of her photos with our dog (ya know, beautifully-shot photos of him surrounded by bubbles in the clawfoot bathtub, that type of thing). Anyway, we did a pre-inspection and offered $80,000 over the asking price…and didn’t get it.
The Crombie House is objectively a better house, but I’m still salty about it. And since we live nearby, sometimes I insist that we pass that house and make petty comments.
Step 7. Make another offer. Get accepted! Enter the world of mind-boggling debt.
We deliberated a lot about whether or not to make an offer on The Crombie House. We saw a photo of the wraparound porch on Zillow, and since there was an open house that weekend, decided to go. When we walked in, the seller’s agent pointed out the pocket doors and we were sold. But it was too expensive for us, so we mentally moved on.
After a few more weeks on the market, the price dropped. We went to a second open house and debated making an offer. But I wasn’t sure. It just seemed like a lot of house for us and I was worried it was too big.
But at some point, we decided “Eff it, let’s do it!” and ended up getting the house for only $1,000 over asking (which is wild in this market). Sometimes the amount of debt we have tied up in our mortgage freaks us out, but this is kind of a passion project and we feel good about getting good returns when we do eventually sell, so we’re okay with it.
Pro-Tip. Record your inspection.
Step 8. Continue checking Zillow because you’re a person who is obsessed with houses now.
Is Zillow a form of social media? I read somewhere that you shouldn’t check Zillow listings after you’ve had an offer accepted. But I did, and to be honest, sometimes still do. It’s actually been kind of nice — so far I haven’t come across anything that has made me say “damn, I wish we had that house instead of ours.” I also love scrolling r/McMansionHell and this architecture shaming group.
Step 9. Finalize closing, move, and go through a lot of weird emotions.
We closed on The Crombie House on October 15, but didn’t officially move in until October 31 because we were having a bunch of electrical work done (more on this another time…)
The bad.
Because we didn’t manage our time well, we were left scrambling to pack up our whole apartment the day before the movers came and ended up pulling an all-nighter. At about 3:00AM, some sheets wouldn’t fit into a box properly and triggered yelling, crying, and other irrational reactions. Packing up all of your stuff also means uncovering evidence of what a gross person you are. (The hellscape that was revealed under our couch will forever haunt my memories.)
We felt sad about leaving our apartment. Our apartment was the top two floors of an adorable old house, in a great location near the train and sushi restaurants. We had a great landlord and friends of ours lived downstairs.
Feeling sad about leaving our sweet little (circa 1837) apartment.
The funny.
The day we closed and first got ther keys, we brought our dog over to The Crombie House for the first time. We followed him from room-to-room as he explored, filming his reactions. At one point, I went to christen the bathroom for the first time, not realizing that my phone was still recording, so we ended up really documenting the first 30 minutes or so in the house. (Also, I promise this blog won't usually be this poop-centric...)
The good.
The day we moved in, our neighbor across the street who owns a bakery made us Halloween cupcakes. - We own a house!!! And we have so many IDEAS.
These Halloween cupcakes from our new across-the-street neighbors made us so happy!