There once was a woman who lived in a shoe...

I have always loved my apartment.

Well, sort of. It can be a love/hate relationship. I love the location, the two full bathrooms, the in-unit laundry, the two parking spaces, the fireplace, the basement storage... However, I hate the tiny size of the bedrooms with such a burning passion that it recently sent me into a tailspin about this pregnancy.

Currently, our second bedroom is Al's bedroom. Now that he's found a job, he'll be moving out soon and we would have closed the pull-out couch and thrown a bunch of crap in there like we usually do. Shut the door and never go in there again. But since we're having a baby, that itty bitty second bedroom will have to become a nursery.

So what we will do with the couch in there? The gigantic bookshelf? The TV? The bikes? (Oh god, all the bikes.)

And how will we fit baby stuff in there? Babies come with a lot of shit! I don't want my apartment taken over by boppies and strollers and car seats and diaper genies and toys that overflow from that little room. It should be filled with dog hair, Manolos and empty wine bottles like it usually is.

Solution: Buy a house. Everybody wins.

For a few days, I went on a home-search rampage, looking for a nice condo under $400,000 in my neighborhood. (City prices, yo. It's disgusting.) I need a three-bedroom place that in no way resembles a crack house. I made lists, I scoured photos, I stalked Redfin, I emailed my realtor...

And then I did a little math surrounding my bank account and down payments and closing costs and oh jesus christ homes are expensive. I cursed a lot. And I slammed back to reality.

I guess I COULD empty my accounts, take to the streets and pull together the cash, but then I'll have zero dollars. I do not want to have zero dollars. If we wait literally one year from now, we will be able to buy a home much more easily. Logic tells me it's worth the wait.

But pregnancy hormones tell me that STAYING IN THIS APARTMENT IS THE WORST DECISION EVER AND I WILL HATE EVERY MINUTE OF IT AND THE BABY WILL HATE ME AND HATE HATE HATE. (You see why I need my anti-crazy pills?)

So I called my mom and she talked me off the ledge. Then I realized that if I stay, Lindsay will be my stand-in Dave since he travels four days a week! Thanks, Linds! You're just finding out about this right now! Deal with it!

Staying put feels like a better decision, but I'm totally still going out to look at homes. Look but don't touch...