I was in my early twenties by the time I stopped having children. In fact, I was 23 with the very last one. In this day and age, that sounds odd to me, considering that women are getting married and having their first baby much later than 23. My body had given life to 4 beings by the time I was 23. I had graduated college having raised 2 of them while taking classes and surviving on food stamps and some measly scholarships for disadvantaged students. Even though I had children first, I married young, too. We lived in several apartments that were always cramped or in neighborhoods that didn't lend themselves to our children playing outside without supervision. While most of my decisions might seem out of order to some people, it's how it worked for me, and I longed for the vision of the Perfect Life. That Perfect Life included a home of my own.
After working for a few years as a teacher, I began setting aside enough money in our savings account to put a down payment on a home. AtRead More »from Why Buying My Own Home was Such a Big Deal