In the last several months, August 2017, we purchased our first home. At the ripe old age of 35 (well I guess I was 34 when it was actually purchased ;) ) our monthly payment changed from "rent" to "mortgage". Looking back on how we came to become Pleasanton/East Bay/Bay Area/Northern Califorian-ers seems like it was an inevitable result. Though when I think back to our little tree stump with it's roots exposed and dangling in the wind..... it seemed anything but clear. But, I'll leave the story of our post medical training decisions for another blog post (because that is a whole story of it's own!).
Leaving our last apartment on the "other" side of the bay
After moving to the East Bay from the Peninsula in the summer of 2016 we first set out to decide what town would best suit us. Traffic concerns, public school ratings, affordability of housing, the "feel" of a town were all swirling in our thought process. Then we came to a decision, Pleasanton was the place for us. Our "unofficial" search started in Spring 2017. We'd roam through open houses on the weekends in between kid activities getting a feel for what we liked and didn't like about each area. We initiated our finely filtered "Zillow search" extravaganza a few months before we were in a place where we could actually (financially) make an offer but in our hearts.... were very ready to make one.
And then the day came, we got the clearance - you can start making offers. Commence the s*** show that is buying a house in the Bay Area. Only those brave ::cough:: stupid? ::cough:: (ha, kidding) enough to take this journey can fully appreciate how RIDICULOUS it is. Full cash offers from overseas buyers, no contingencies, a 7 day close, the basic assumption that you WILL bid over ask price (insert eye roll). Yaaay here we go! The first place we put an offer on, we did not get. Not only did we not get it, I'm pretty sure the offer got laughed off the table. We wrote the typical "we are adorable" letter playing the "sweet young doctor couple with cute kids" card, bid over ask, took away the contingencies (which looking back was A BAD IDEA for this particular house) and just got straight up denied. Not even recieving a counter offer.
Closing of our letter
In that picture my hair was a mess, Micah didn't want to take a picture and Juliet was febrile with Roseola. The day we found out our offer got denied - John went outside to start the grill for dinner and a mouse was looking up from the inside of it. This was clearly not meant to be our house. The cosmic world was giving us all the signs.
And as everyone who buys a home says, when you find the right one you will look back and be thankful about the ones that fell through. On the hunt again, a little bruised, we went. On Father's day weekend in 2017, John stumbled upon a listing for an open house in an area we had identified as our "dream location". It was drop. dead. gorgeous. Completely remodeled in clean and bright decor with impeccable taste by the owner's son (who happened to be an amazing contractor). It was adjacent to a huge beautiful park for the kids, walkable to the vibrant downtown area in one direction, located next to an amazing place to go on long runs (just in time for my runners itch to return) in the other direction..... perfect. But the catch - it was is was one bedroom short of what we very much needed. As I was walking out the door saying "it is everything we want but we need 4 bedrooms", the seller's relator motions upstairs and says "do you realize how easy it would be to enclose that open loft?". And bam - we were smitten. We went to see the other houses we had planned to see but kept coming back to that beautiful home.... it was meant for us. We went after it, lost a lot of sleep over it and then we got it.
A little Veuve Clicquot toast to an offer accepted
Escrow..... Inspections..... Maintence.... 15 year close? 30 year close?..... HOW MUCH property tax?...... We will not be able to afford toilet paper anymore, OK?........ And, then we closed on our dream house.
And every day since, I open my eyes to a home I adore. A home my kids will grow up in. A home in a community that we are and will be actively involved in. A home to finally plant those weary, hungry, healthy roots.