Thursday, October 14, 2010

Possession is 9/10ths of the law

I have no idea where that saying originated, or even what it truly means, but going through the home selling and buying process, I'm getting a better idea.

When we first put our house on the market, I went through a period of time where it didn't feel like it was ours anymore, it just became a showroom we were living in.  Now that we have a contract (yes a contract!!) on our home, these overwhelming feelings of possession are surfacing.

When Little C first learned the idea of possession, it was cute, especially because he would refer to himself in the third person ("carter's blanket", "carter's cup", etc.).  When Little C later started projecting this possession onto things like playground equipment, it wasn't so cute.  I'll never forget a day at the park when he shoved some poor little girl off the slide steps and into the dirt.  "These are Carter's steps!," he yelled at her.  I swooped in as soon as I could to intervene and removed him from the steps he was so fiercely guarding, and I did my best to explain to him playground toys were 'sharing toys'.  With his little jaw jutted forward, he refused to meet my eye the whole time I was talking, and when our little discussion was over, he walked away, I could here him talking to himself under his breath saying, "mine. mine. mine."  It was certainly an eye opener to see how strong this need to possess things was.

Well, I can say, I get it.  I feel just like Carter these days.  Inspections, appraisers, the buyer wanting to move in the second the keys are in her hot little hand.  I find myself thinking, mine. mine. mine!  This house is MINE!  This was our FIRST house.  This is the house I brought my babies home to!  How on earth can this house belong to someone besides us?!

Then, Mr. C, in his very gentle and loving way, reminds me that it's just a house.  A few walls and a roof.  What made it so special is coming with us,  our family.  So, as much as it kills me to turn this house over to someone else, and as much as I can not imagine it actually belonging to someone else, I take comfort in knowing that my home is not a house, it's where ever my family is.

1 comment:

Membership Required said...

very well said. I bet you could get our table over to help you pack some boxes if you offered wine....think back to the playdate conversation.