It's so exciting. You get so caught up in all the rush of adrenaline and new home potential that will be the final step in the chain of decisions.
And then reality bites hard and suddenly it's all very, very real.
I am now sporting a wonderful, beautiful ring on my appropriate finger on my left hand. We're not just moving home, moving together and moving on, we're getting married. Which whilst being incredibly wonderful also brings its own challenges, persuading the kids, in particular, that this doesn't change the relationships they have with their 'other' parents, that moving to another town isn't the end of their lives, that there is life outside of the small big of the world in which they currently reside.
And as of right now, today, immediately, my house is on the market, available for sale.
That brings its own interesting challenges, not least is persuading the kids that they really do have to put their dirty undies in the washing basket and not leave them in a heap on the floor, that they should rinse their spit out of the sink and put their dirty dishes IN the dishwasher and not just in the vague vicinity of it.
I (actually we all do but you know how that's going to work out) have to keep the house clean, tidy, neat and viewable. Which isn't necessarily a bad things because suddenly I have a minimalist home that is a pleasure to live in but unfortunately we can't find anything we need or want (that isn't already in every day use) because the garage is piled with boxes of things we thought were excess to requirements so the house could be presented as a buyers dream and not the place that we're all trying to leave behind.
And then the final nail in the enthusiasts coffin.
The paperwork. I have already scanned read in detail (of course) several pages of small print that allow me to ask the estate agent to market the house for me and now I am presented with pages of forms to complete, read and electronic missives and I'm about ready to give up.
All I want to do is sell the house that I own (along with the bank) but the only thing they haven't asked me yet is my inside leg measurement and the date of birth of my first grandchild.
But I'm sure that's coming.
It should be so incredibly exciting. It should be the culmination of who knows how many thoughts, dreams and sleepless nights. And yet it is utterly terrifying!
My mum once told me the answer to one of life's great questions: How do you eat an elephant? It is, as it happens, much easier than you think to eat an elephant. A little bit a time.
The trouble with that as a concept is knowing where to start and how much you can chew on and swallow to qualify as a 'little bit'.
It should be easy, no? Decide to move. Find a house to move to. Confirm that the local schools are good enough. Make sure there's a suitable way of getting from the house to the schools. And somewhere to buy bread and milk, get to a station, an airport, a main road, a cycle route, somewhere to walk the dog, somewhere the cats won't get run over the first time they stick a whisker out the front door. Find out if there's a cinema closer than a week away. Where will the kids ride their bikes/play in the park, meet up with their friends. More importantly, sleep!
I can already feel the arguments brewing, the shouting matches about 'my room', 'your room', yes, no, no way, not a snowball in hell's chance.....
Today is not a positive 'up' day. Today is a huge, insurmountable challenges day. They will come and go in turn. Hopefully when there's a big intrusive 'For Sale' board stuck outside our houses it will start to seem real and not a million more miles away than it already does.
