Dining room wall. As of 7:45 p.m., no leak found. Everyone very confused.

I posted something on Facebook last night bemoaning our status as homeowners. This was exactly two minutes after discovering our dishwasher (or something) was leaking through the wall into the dining room. My status was, “Home ownership: Worst. Idea. Ever.” What I really meant was: “GAH! OUR DISHWASHER IS LEAKING INTO OUR DINING ROOM! HOLY STINK, WILL IT NEVER END?”

There were a lot of great opinions flying around, so I thought I’d take some time to consider–in a less emotional moment–my actual thoughts on owning a home.

First, a brief history of the Jesse and Erin Renting and Home Ownership Experience. We have rented a grand total of two apartments since we got married in 2004. The first was perfect. It was a second-story unit in a quiet complex, and we could sit at a table on our screened-in porch and watch ducks at the nearby lake. There were huge oak trees, several lakes, tennis courts, a fitness center, a couple pools, the works. We took evening walks around the lake. We were close to downtown Orlando, so we went to farmer’s markets and the library and had picnics and went to art shows and generally loved where we lived.

Our second apartment was, shall we say, not perfect. It was near the university up here and had low ceilings that made it feel rather cave-like. We were surrounded by students who loved to party on Wednesday nights and would scream drunkenly from their balconies at 4:00 a.m. and play bad music at ear-splitting levels. (Wednesday! Wednesday!) The air conditioner didn’t work and in the summer our apartment wouldn’t get cooler than 80 degrees–even though our power bill one month was $160 (for a two-bedroom teensy apartment). To top it all off, after a big rain the ceiling leaked and grew mold. The apartment complex sent out a special mold-removing person, who just sprayed bleach on the mold. Around this time, Jesse got terribly ill and had to take two rounds of antibiotics to recover. (Hmm.) Finally, we could take no more and requested to be released from our lease. We were denied, because the complex manager said our apartment had never had mold. The mold “expert” said it wasn’t mold.

“What was it?” I asked.

Oh, she said, just “something” that grew on the water stain. Just something black. That grew. On a water stain.

She refused to let me see the service records, as they were “private.”

Needless to say, I kept at it until we were finally out of our lease.

This was the end of 2005. House prices were skyrocketing, and everyone said they’d only be going up. Buying a house was a good investment. You could expect at least four percent growth in equity every year, and probably more since our area was growing so quickly. The house we ended up buying had jumped in value probably $40K in the past year.

So, we sunk a bunch of money (an investment) in the house and were blissfully happy at being Real Adults–home owners.

For a while, it looked as though we’d made a smart move. In the year following our purchase, our house value went up probably another $20K or so.

And then 2007 happened.

Now, we still owe less than it’s worth, but gone is the money we put into it, gone is the theoretical money we never actually had but still felt like we had (no, we didn’t take out an equity line or anything stupid–sorry if you have an equity line; I’m just saying it would have been a dumb move for us in our situation…okay, I’m done trying to be politically correct and non-offensive. I’m tired).

Since owning the house, we have:

• Fixed the AC.
• Replaced the water heater.
• Put in a backyard privacy fence.
• Poured plenty of money into fighting (unsuccessfully) an endless succession of weeds; mowed and (sporadically) watered the grass for five years; planted at least four trees that later died; planted a grand total of two trees that have so far lived (knock on wood); planted and then killed two vegetable gardens (shopping at the farmer’s market all season would have been cheaper).
• Bought a refrigerator and a new microwave and a lawn mower and a weed eater and a wheel barrow and a million other “necessities.”
• Had a washing machine donated to us (I know it didn’t cost us money, but we would have had to spend money if we hadn’t had super-kind friends with an extra washing machine).
• Shampooed the carpets, painted the walls, cleaned every inch of it many times (but not as many as we probably should have).
• Paid a ton of interest on our mortgage every year (even with our super-low rate).
• Paid taxes and flood insurance and homeowners insurance every year.

Keeping a house is hard work and requires a ton of money and free time. At first, I dreamed about all the improvements we could make–new kitchen counters, a bigger back patio. Now, I just want things to stop leaking or breaking or falling apart. Everything seems like a time bomb: I look at the toilet and think, When are you going to turn on me? And the roof. And the heater. And the oven. I could go on.

Did I mention that one night, just as we were drifting to sleep, our ceiling fan fell on us?

Yeah.

Well, not that it couldn’t happen to renters, but still. You’d have someone to call whose role it was to replace said fan. And AC unit. And dishwasher. Et cetera.

I once thought renting was a waste of money. But now I’m starting to wonder how much money we’ve wasted on this house, when all this time we could have been wasting it on renting. It’s not about the money, though, not exactly. We have the money. We’re not going into debt over this stuff. This is just not what I really want to be spending the money on right now. And frankly, it’s not what I’d like to be spending time on right now.

Well, ere I get too gloomy, how about some upsides?

• We got to paint the walls crazy colors. Like purple.
• If our ceiling gets mold on it, we won’t have to wait around for weeks for an apartment complex’s crazy “mold expert” comes to pronounce it “not mold.”
• No crazy college parties next door.
• No security deposit to worry about. (Ha. Unless you count that 20%.)
• The insane hope that one day the housing market will magically be what it once was and we’ll get our money back.
• The psychological stability of feeling a sense of ownership over this place. Warts and all.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that being a home owner is lovely. And awful. Depends on when you ask me.

But, on Facebook, just after finding yet another problem needing major repair, you’re probably going to get Grouchy Home Owner Erin.

Sorry about that. Check back later!

On Thursday night, I met with my Pod People and implemented some ideas Sue gave me. On second Thursdays, we meet at the church, and as nice as the environment can be, it’s just not the same as meeting in someone’s house. Our dinner parties of late last year were loads of fun for me, and for them too, I hope. So, to work around the less-than-ideal environment, I brought an old comforter that I spread on the floor under a giant fake tree at the entrance to the kids’ ministry section. I brought a vase of daisies and poured out a bag of individually wrapped dark chocolates. I lit a lavender candle (that Sue gave me!). We lounged, picnic-style, and talked about their groups, the successes and the challenges. Much better, I thought, than sitting in chairs.

Today, I spent the entire morning and most of the afternoon preparing for our taxes, reading up on the self-employment tax, SEP IRAs vs. individual 401ks, deductions for business expenses, the endless debate on which is better, Vanguard or Fidelity (any ideas? I’ve heard Vanguard has lower fees…). When my brain could take no more, I crashed on the futon, fully intending to read but falling asleep before getting up the energy to crack open the book. I was covered with this fluffy robe my parents gave me for Christmas, and Oliver was curled up next to me, purring. Bliss.