Home is Where the Heart Lives

My grandparents would always roll into the driveway about halfway through dinner.

They would come almost every night. Grandpa would sit in “his” rocking chair in the kitchen, grandma would have her giant Diet Caffeine-free Coke, and they would simply visit. They genuinely wanted to know what went on in our lives that day. They would talk about Montgomery County politics, farming (which is essentially the same as politics), the church, what was up next for the Southmont Royal Mountie Band… just anything and everything. They would always leave before 8 p.m., because “that’s when the streets rolled up in New Market.”

These visits were nothing special. In fact, at the time, my sisters and I thought they were kind of annoying. But not many people can say they saw their grandparents practically every day growing up, and now that I have my own daughter these uneventful conversations are all the more important to me. They’re something I can never get back.

That’s why I did my best to refrain from kicking and screaming when this appeared in my yard today.

Remember all that DIY-ing that we literally JUST finished? Apparently we’re happy to have someone else enjoy all of our hard work.

Okay, for real though. We purchased our home in 2011 when it was very obviously a buyer’s market. We practically stole this house, and then had our way with it. From painting the exterior, to replacing the garage door, to installing new floors and a new kitchen – we have done everything. So when we saw two of our neighbors sell their homes recently – both in a matter of hours for top dollar – we decided it would be smart of us to call our REALTOR.

(I blame what happens next on our former neighbors, and both Kristin and Ashlen who are currently building fabulous new homes.)

Our REALTOR told us exactly the opposite of what we expected to hear. He said our house is worth WAY more than we bought it for. Since we thought the man was off his rocker, we brought in a second opinion… who said the same thing.

Suddenly, I’m not sure calling in the professionals was the smartest idea.

So here we are, listing our house with the intent to move to… somewhere. The front runner? Home. That’s right boys and girls – if our house sells, we could be moving to Crawfordsville. Sixteen-year-old me would die.

We are also planning to look at a few homes here in Hamilton County, just to be sure we don’t want to leave everything we’ve created here. So take a deep breath friends – we’re not gone yet!

Am I okay with this? No.

I can’t figure out which part I’m necessarily uncomfortable with. The selling, the moving, the location… I want my daughter to grow up closer to my parents, but I’m also okay staying right where we are. I understand that this could be a great investment opportunity for us, but I also don’t see anything wrong with the way we live now. I’m not really attached to our house, however I find myself clinging to it harder and harder by the minute.

Oh and how about staging our home for photos not even 24 hours after we decided to list, and then having to be prepared for showings with a 9 month old? Yeah. Not stressful at all.

In a matter of a week, I’ve gone from being extremely excited to sell this house to crying myself to sleep last night because I don’t want to let go. I’m kind of a mess.

But! We’re just listing. If we don’t get the price we want, we won’t go anywhere. And if it sells tomorrow… I’m homeless. NBD.

So that’s what is happening at the Cotten house this week. Anyone in the market for a 4 bedroom 2.5 bath in Carmel? Also, advice is welcomed at this point.