My poor husband is going through something. He is having buyer’s remorse before we have even bought the house. We have a large sum in the bank in anticipation of showing we are ready to pay the down payment at a moment’s notice, and it is about to eat him alive.
We have been sticking to our budget pretty carefully. This weekend, I think it has hit home for him that even though we have lots of money at the moment, it is all about to disappear and none of it will be used for anything fun.
We also have started buying diapers, one pack a week, in anticipation of (hopefully) the arrival of our baby in about eight months. I purchased diapers every paycheck when I was pregnant with Eva, and it worked out really well because I didn’t have to buy a single diaper for at least the first six months of her life. He seemed to enjoy this purchasing of the first baby items. He even threw in a package of wipes.
I think maybe, just maybe, he is starting to realize this is the end of his childhood. Even though he is a great step-dad to Eva, he could still conceivably walk away and become a carefree bachelor. Now, I’m pregnant, and we’re buying a house. If that doesn’t scream adulthood, I don’t know what does.
He is surviving, though, and talking to me about it at least. I’m sure it will be my turn later, around the 8 month mark, to have my moment of panic that I will, again, be responsible for another little life. Right now, I’m still just so happy to finally be pregnant again.
These are good problems to have.