Within 24 hours of finding out that we were expecting a baby this spring, Mark and I sat down to discuss putting our house on the market. We’ve lived in our old, tiny house for a decade, and this supposed-to-be-a-starter home is so far past its prime that we’ve determined fixing it up would cost well more than it could ever be worth.

However, to entice buyers to consider this charming-not-old, cozy-not-cramped house for their own, we knew we needed to make a few updates and repairs. That’s how I found myself in the midst of moderate renovations and major cleaning and decluttering this summer – the projects that, at one point (or more), made me feel like running away from home.

Though we lamented every check we wrote and the stress eventually worried both my doctor and me, it felt incredible to finally cross off lingering to-dos from our lists. Repairs that had needed to be made for months and, in some embarrassing-to-admit cases, years were finally being completed. And what a difference it made!

My husband and I had both heard people – including the guy who refinished our hardwood floors – say that we’d regret not doing these things sooner, that we might even rethink our decision to leave this home behind. We scoffed and guffawed because, really, we’d been anxious to escape our little money pit for several years now.

But . . . I have to admit there’s something appealing about our shiny floors and organized closets and spiffed-up porch.

Mainly, though, I’ve just wondered why we waited so long to fix the things that needed to be fixed. For months (and, yes, even years) we’ve made do. We’ve worked around the problems and ignored the blemishes and essentially pretended that everything was fine even though it was not fine at all.

Isn’t that sometimes how we go about living, though?

To read an update on the plumbing DISASTER that’s been my week (and talk about the cost of ignoring our problems), join me over at (in)courage.

{Photo by sashafatcat}