Why did I think this would work?

As I have mentioned ad nauseum, I want a new house. Something with a master suite, a fenced in yard, a yard the size that we can now handle, and an actual laundry room. Oh, and at least three bedrooms on one floor, and space for an office, whether it be a spare bedroom or a den.

Well, I did some searching yesterday during a unmotivated moment at work, and I found a great house. It didn't have a fenced in yard (since Black Dog is a wanderer at times, it would be nice), but it had four very nice sized bedrooms upstairs, as well as a laundry. No more schlepping laundry up and down the stairs. The real kicker was that the price was about $60k lower than I had seen on similar homes that didn't have the features that this one did.

I've been working on Husband about this for a while. We have really been struggling to keep our gigantic yard in check, and I fear that we are on our way to becoming the unkempt house on our street. An acre is a lot of work, even with a riding lawn mower. We were at a house over Thanksgiving where they had two largish dogs like we do, and the the lot was maybe a third of an acre. There was plenty of room for the dogs to do their thing, and it probably takes less than an hour to push mow. Something this size would mean more time for us, less time on the lawn and upkeep. I was elated. I finally had found the right argument that would appeal to his senses.

Feeling a little too sure of myself, and unexpectedly secure in my advocacy skill, I endeavored to show Husband this little gem last night. I wanted to broach this discussion at some point. Figuring out our housing situation was one of the things on the short checklist that I had prior to having another baby. Now, mind you, I don't hold a great deal of optimism for this cycle, because, well, things never work that way for us. I fully expect to have to spend the entire $5000 elected for my FSA next year. However, the planner in me was worried about the what ifs. What if we ARE successful this time? What if we end up with multiples? Granted, both items are a bit on the improbable side, but to loosely follow Spock's reasoning, even the improbable has possibilities. (OK, so I mangled the analogy, but true Trekkies will get it.) Getting back to my checklist, I had decided a while ago that we can't play fast and loose with the realities of what another child will mean. We just can't. With Son, we had the luxury of some flexibility. Not so much this time. I simply couldn't allow us to enter this endeavor without some sort of discussion.

So I broach it with Husband. I had a whole little script in my head, how I would contain the conversation, and not let it get heated. As usual, I was so incredibly wrong. The Reader's Digest version goes like this: Husband hates the idea, doesn't want to move, we can't afford it (um, yes we can, you might just have to give up a couple of small things), I'm not making any sense, it's a stupid idea, lots of crying, me giving in (as usual).

I am so incredibly disappointed. Husband doesn't want to leave this house, even though it is obvious to me and any other person that I have talked to that we have simply outgrown this house. Our life has changed from the childless, cat owner, lots of spare time variety to a small family of cat and dog owning, toddler chasing, with absolutely no spare time and fighting over who mowed the lawn last (oh that one is the doozey of them all) life. His big thing is that we can't afford it, but yet he thinks that if we add on, all of our problems will be solved. We can do a bunch of it ourselves. I hate to be a bitch here, but the bathroom that he started before Son was born is JUST NOW getting a ceiling. I'm not talking a palace here, just an 6x7 3/4 bath. What the hell would he do with a whole new part of the house?? If I could ever get him to sit down and do the math, I don't think that we would come out any more ahead. I'm sick and tired of always having to try to make due with things that ultimately won't fit the need.

So, in the end, we both feel like we lost, he accused me of being, let's see, stupid, overly emotional, I need to get back on meds because obviously I am out of control because I got upset and actually felt something. He's pulling the whole "woe is me" crap, and nothing changed. All that happened is that we hurt each other, and nothing was even remotely resolved.

Just as a disclaimer, I know that we are lucky to have what we have. I know that. However, I work my tail off, and it wasn't easy getting here either, so just once I want to have something that I want, and I'm sick of always being the one to compromise and give in. It just ends up taking pieces of your soul that you never get back.