admission...

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What a whirlwind weekend.

On Saturday we saw a house, fell in love with it, and became deeply engrossed in the process of how to get a homeloan and put an offer in on a house.
On Sunday we spoke with friends about it, fell more in love, and dreamed about it.
On Monday, we scoped out the area, talked to the agent, learned some more, and got super excited.
On Tuesday, we showed a different set of friends the pictures, gushed over it, and talked 'the process'.
On Wednesday, I saw my Mum for lunch, talked finances and vegetarianism, showed her the photos, oo-ed and aahh-ed, and then essentially decided it was unsuitable.

This house is gorgeous.
It ticked pretty much all our boxes.
And then Mum said: there's nowhere for kids. Not even one kid.
Because the house had a mezzanine bedroom with stupid stairs that would be ridiculous for a toddler/young child. And nowhere to build a bedroom.
So I speak to Nic.
We go back and forth about it.

Let me back up a little- I've never wanted kids. Nic asked me why, and honestly, I don't have a specific reason, just that I've never had the inclination to want them. I'll look after other peoples', I'd say, or they're too much effort, or, they tie you down.
But... a while ago, something very quiet in me said: but maybe... one day?
And since I started teaching, that's grown into a much louder something. Not demanding kids now, but certainly wanting to keep the possibility of one, or two on the table for future.

So I'm speaking to Nic. We're talking about the fact that I've always said I didn't want kids, and how he had thought maybe he would but had come around to my point of view, and by the way, he says, do you want kids?

And I say
Well...
Yes.
I think I would. Someday.

... and then I burst into tears.
Because of course that's a perfectly logical reaction.
And hey, maybe it is. Here I am admitting what I had been essentially unwilling to admit since that tiny voice surfaced, except to say to mum: Hey! Good news! Kids might be back on the table, ha ha.. I hadn't admitted it.
And here I was essentially saying, no, we can't buy this amazing house because hypothetically, we might want a family in the future - in the next 5-7 years, I guess - and there's no point buying an impractical house with low resale value (because other people with kids won't buy it, either) if we have to sell it again in 5 years.

So, that's my bombshell for the week.
And then I cried a bit more because I felt like I'd 'ruined' our perfect house. Nic hugs me, kisses me, and tells me it's ok, it's right.
And he'll make a great Dad, anyway. He'll be cool, like my Dad, and go on adventures with his kids, and take them snow-bashing, and make snow-cordial, and read books to them, and teach them to kayak.

...

But there's still a while to go before we need to think about all that, anyway.