Renting

As my high school 10 year reunion is this summer, this marks the time that I have been renting for 10 years. Dorms, apartments, whatever we were renting in Boston when we were first married (first floor of a brownstone, kitchen, no bathroom and we weren't paying rent because Katsu was a resident assistant .... what WOULD you call that), and now a condo.

There are some perks to renting, perhaps. Not having to sell a house. Not having to buy a house. Not having to maintain a house. Not losing money on a house. Getting to move all the time (I am not so sure about this being a perk). Having a good excuse for white walls. Not worrying too much when the kids spill something yet again on the carpet because "it's not my carpet" and you know they will just replace it when someone new moves in. Living in an area we could never afford a house, so you can lust after the quarter million dollar houses on your walks and go to all the story times with nannies.

But I admit, I get very jealous of all my friends from high school (and college) that have houses, which it seems like is most of the them. I get jealous when I see the money waiting for a down payment, but no reason to buy when we'll just be moving in a few years anyways. I get jealous when I am trying to park in the tiniest car port ever, requiring at least one backing up every time and always checking to make sure we are far over enough so our obnoxious neighbor won't come and complain about it again. I get jealous when I am hauling both children plus a diaper bag plus groceries and swim suits and art projects and strollers and library books up the stairs which are full of painting stuff as they pain for the whole last month (but, you should see my biceps, another perk, I suppose). I get jealous when I look at people's garages - wow, what a luxury. I get jealous when people talk about things like play rooms or offices or more than 1000 sq ft! I get jealous when I imagine being able to install hardware to really baby proof or having nice blinds or interior doors that shut and lock properly. Or walk-in closets. Or closets without stupid sliding doors that are always falling off. Or neighbors who don't come bug you before 9 am because apparently you accidentally put garbage in the wrong dumpster and they know it was you because they dug through the garbage and found a discarded envelope from your house (a little creepy if you ask me). Or hallway painters who require you to leave your front door open for 4 hours in 100 degree heat, so they can paint your door. And then ask to do the back door the next day.

But when I really get jealous is when I contemplate the laundry. We have never had laundry in our apartment, but always in the basement. Although, there was only one set of washers / dryers when we were first married, so I carried it down the street to the laundromat. I was always mortified when all the people in the subway car seemed to be staring at me as I struggled to carry the big bag of laundry plus detergent and quarters down the street.

(Now, yes, you could say, we could have rented an apartment with laundry inside. But they were always MUCH more expensive and MUCH less convenient. And here we could probably rent a house, and maybe will later. Although as a sidenote, there is the one car thing. Someone in the ward looked at me kind of askance when I mentioned that we want to only have one car here - I think they thought it was funny and I was hopelessly naive. Well, fella, why don't you figure out how to pay for two cars and expensive parking where Katsu works on what will be a measly 35k salary once I quit/finish grad school and don't bring in any income, especially when Katsu can take the metro for free. So, for now, we are confined to one car and places close to the metro.)

Quarters - I hate them. I hate having to go to the bank to buy them. I hate when the laundry machine eats them. We use SO many quarters.

Loads - seriously, I am amazed at how much laundry people do. People do laundry every day?!?! I wonder how much laundry these people would do if they had to pay for it. And had to haul it.

Which brings me to my next point. This has been the hardest place to do laundry yet. The laundry is in the basement. Which is reached by going through our back door, outside, down several flights of stairs, unlocking an exterior door, and walking all along to the other side of the basement. Which is nigh impossible to do with two little children. Because I can not for the life of me carry both Seth and the laundry. Impossible. And Seth does not nap enough for me to do the laundry completely when he is asleep. So, Katsu has mostly been doing the laundry, which I guess is a perk.

Anyways, there really is no point to this post. I guess all of you who have a house can not fill a little more grateful. And I got my regularly scheduled whining in. Thanks!