Jul 18 2014
I knew I wanted the house.
It needed work, but I could see the potential hidden under the atrocious paint colors and dog hair. But the threat of homebuyer’s remorse struck my husband and I simultaneously. We looked at each other panicked, suddenly looking for a reason to bail. Standing side-by-side in the yard, we glanced at the row of dying azaleas baking in mid-July sun. “Those bushes need to go,” I murmured.
The real estate agent paused and then gestured at the weed-choked rectangle. “It’s probably too sunny for this kind of plant. But this would be a great space for a garden!”
My cold feet warmed and once again I saw what the house, and the grounds, could be. By autumn, it was ours. At some point, we pulled out the bushes, but never got around to doing anything more. The timing was never right. The wedding, summer jobs, home renovations, two pregnancies, sleepless nights with a baby and a toddler, a sick relative, a new boss… for the past seven years, there was always something. Read the rest of this entry →
Oct 17 2012
As part of our month-long series dedicated to Women, Work & Money, Adina Kay-Gross talks about her “money personality,” and how it clashes with her husband’s.
When you met your significant other, in those early heady hyperbole-riddled days of Sunday morning brunches and trips to bucolic B&Bs, what did you talk about when you fantasized about your lives together? Did you dream about where you’d live? How many kids you wanted? Perhaps, since I’m talking to you, here, on Kveller.com, is it safe to assume you discussed religion and whether either of you cared enough to build a sukkah or join a synagogue?
I bet you discussed all of those things. Maybe you even went so far as to get into the nitty-gritty of your future kids’ education and if they’d play sports and how much time you thought you’d spend with extended family and where you’d vacation, if you were lucky enough to take one. Read the rest of this entry →
Oct 11 2012
One month ago, we closed on our new house. Its official now, we’re homeowners, we’re leaving the city, we’re moving to the suburbs. We’re not planning on buying a minivan and the kids are way too young to play soccer but I’m aware that in many, many ways, we’ve opened ourselves up to a host of conventions.
That’s okay. We’ve willingly chosen to become (even more?) conventional. It’s too hard to stay hip and relevant when there’s no space to turn around in your kitchen and the dog crowds you out of the hallway. We need more space. Picket fences, here we come. Read the rest of this entry →