As a little background to our situation: at the time we made our discovery, Wifey and I were renting out our (tiny) one-bedroom unit, living with my parents and both driving cars unsuitable for infants. Clearly we had to make some changes. Though, fortunately, we still had a good few months to make them happen.
Cue week of craziness.
Wifey is a teacher, meaning she gets blocks of holidays linking weeks of intensity. The result of this is that when she gets holidays, she really likes to kick goals. Therefore, when we happily settled on the sale of our unit (on the Wednesday), Wifey was keen to make a move towards home ownership fast, as the end of her leisure time was looming. We moved VERY fast: Thursday afternoon found us in the real estate agent's office signing paperwork for the purchase of what is to become our family home.
Now I refer to "our" unit, but the reality is that it was mine by default only - I married well, as the investment had been a wise move at an opportune time entirely on Wifey's behalf. This made our home purchase (commonly referred to as one of the biggest, most stressful things you'll ever do in your life), my first experience with such life altering decisions and changes. I also managed to pair it with that other life-changing and stressful event of bringing a child into this world!
I am a full-blown adrenaline-junkie, but signing on the line that you will pay that kind of money, which you only "have" because you're now throat-deep in mortgage, is a different kind of rush. The whole situation is quite surreal: you sit there talking in crazy figures based upon what a faceless institution says they will give you; then somehow papers get signed and this becomes yours. The money is never seen - it just magically changes ownership - and it's probably just as well: I'm not sure it would be so easy to go through with if you actually handed over a bag containing hundreds of thousands of dollars!
So the papers were signed and we were locked in; time to take a break and catch our breath. Alas, no, Wifey has other plans...
"Do you want to go and look at cars tomorrow?"
"Sure," I think, "There's no harm in looking." ...right?
But my crafty little mistress has other plans. Somehow Friday afternoon finds us signing on the dotted line for our new family-wagon. We have been up-sold to the larger model, because as the salesman (who is also conveniently expecting his first heir) pointed out, not only does it have unrivalled boot-space in its class (essential for the prams, nappies, changes of clothes, etc.), but the back folds down into (what he described as) a change table. My Commodore ute, which held bikes and boards and represented my carefree youth, has been replaced by a family wagon complete with built in change table and (thanks to my always-thoughtful co-workers) 'My Family' stickers.
So in three days we sold a unit, bought a house (which I should mention needs substantial renovations) and a car. Babies are expensive...and this is only the beginning!
Cue week of craziness.
Wifey is a teacher, meaning she gets blocks of holidays linking weeks of intensity. The result of this is that when she gets holidays, she really likes to kick goals. Therefore, when we happily settled on the sale of our unit (on the Wednesday), Wifey was keen to make a move towards home ownership fast, as the end of her leisure time was looming. We moved VERY fast: Thursday afternoon found us in the real estate agent's office signing paperwork for the purchase of what is to become our family home.
Now I refer to "our" unit, but the reality is that it was mine by default only - I married well, as the investment had been a wise move at an opportune time entirely on Wifey's behalf. This made our home purchase (commonly referred to as one of the biggest, most stressful things you'll ever do in your life), my first experience with such life altering decisions and changes. I also managed to pair it with that other life-changing and stressful event of bringing a child into this world!
I am a full-blown adrenaline-junkie, but signing on the line that you will pay that kind of money, which you only "have" because you're now throat-deep in mortgage, is a different kind of rush. The whole situation is quite surreal: you sit there talking in crazy figures based upon what a faceless institution says they will give you; then somehow papers get signed and this becomes yours. The money is never seen - it just magically changes ownership - and it's probably just as well: I'm not sure it would be so easy to go through with if you actually handed over a bag containing hundreds of thousands of dollars!
So the papers were signed and we were locked in; time to take a break and catch our breath. Alas, no, Wifey has other plans...
"Do you want to go and look at cars tomorrow?"
"Sure," I think, "There's no harm in looking." ...right?
But my crafty little mistress has other plans. Somehow Friday afternoon finds us signing on the dotted line for our new family-wagon. We have been up-sold to the larger model, because as the salesman (who is also conveniently expecting his first heir) pointed out, not only does it have unrivalled boot-space in its class (essential for the prams, nappies, changes of clothes, etc.), but the back folds down into (what he described as) a change table. My Commodore ute, which held bikes and boards and represented my carefree youth, has been replaced by a family wagon complete with built in change table and (thanks to my always-thoughtful co-workers) 'My Family' stickers.
So in three days we sold a unit, bought a house (which I should mention needs substantial renovations) and a car. Babies are expensive...and this is only the beginning!
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