The title of this post is from the song Home by Michael Buble.
I'm horrible at making decisions, and this is why I'm not good at multiple choice questions. I always second guess the answer I pick first, and then I spend crazy amounts of time trying to figure out if I'm right or if it's a trick question. I'm like this with other things in my life too, so I often come off as indecisive to other people.
Friday, my dad and I went over to meet with someone from the company that's going to build our home. We are still working out the loan details, and hopefully I will know something more certain at the beginning of the week. Overall I know what I want for this house, and I've blogged about it, 2,500 sq ft, 4 bedrooms, all on one floor, a wheelchair ramp, and an open floor plan. The problem is that those specifications are not the only things I have to make decisions about. Dad walked into the office Friday with a list of 21 questions to ask. I'm sure that they have never had someone be as thorough as my dad. I'm so incredibly grateful he is here to help me ask the questions I didn't even know needed to be asked. We are going back Thursday to go over some more things, and the guy said that I could starting picking out things if I wanted, like cabinets, countertops, and things like that. He said expect to spend three hours picking stuff out...THREE HOURS OF DECISION MAKING?! Say what?! I mean I know that it's important, and I know that I need to pick what I want, but my goodness. How am I supposed to make a decision on what color vinyl siding I want, knowing that once they order it I can't change my mind. What if two weeks from now my mood has changed and I don't like what I originally picked out? This might be a really long process! It's also going to be a bit of give and take. I'm going to give up some of the extras that I don't really need in order to get the things I do need. We will see.
I am trying to figure out a way to incorporate Mike into the building of this house. I think I'm going to see about having the kids put their handprints somewhere in the concrete for the porch when it is poured. I thought about adding something of Mike's, but I don't know what. It sounds weird I know. I know that doing something like this is not what will make him part of our home, but I want him to be a part of the process. I'll have to think about it.