When You're Almost 33 and You Buy Your First Piece of Nice Furniture and It Makes You a Nervous Wreck

Currently, we have a sofa and a loveseat in our living room. They're overstuffed, somewhat comfy, and they match, but after 6 years of intense use and a basically rabid dog who has made these couches into her extra large doggy bed, they're trashed.

Three of the main cushions have holes with stuffing literally popping out of them (I find fluffy white pieces on the floor all the time), one cushion had to be thrown out recently after Sayde peed all over it for no apparent reason, and there are a number of dirty paw prints, weird stains, and permanent depressions from dog-and-human butts that have left these couches in their current state of disrepair. 

Oh, and did I mention that we originally got these couches from our building's trash collection area on the day we were moving from one apartment to another in DC? [Should I have led with that?] We saw them sitting next to the dumpsters as the moving people were loading up our moving van, so we asked them to "pick up those two couches and add them to our stuff." We were still working with a futon at the time and these couches looked new and had no issues, so they were a serious upgrade.

Anyways, I didn't realize how bad things had gotten until preparing for my grandmother and great aunt's visit; while straightening-up I went to flip a cushion to hide the big hole in the middle of it and realized that the holey side I was looking at was actually the "prettier" and less holey side of the two. Eek. 

It was then that I thought, okay, enough. These have got to go. So I did what any self-respecting mom of a baby and hot-mess-dog would do and hit the Facebook Marketplace for a used couch. I started messaging people and measuring our space, thinking surely we could find what we needed in a used capacity...but after a little searching I started to realize that most of the "affordable" used couches were as much of a mess as ours, or an ugly color or pattern that wouldn't match our living room.

Ben and I discussed our situation and for once, decided we would get a big, nice, new piece of furniture for our house. We love our house. We want to stay here a long time. We spend all of our time in our living room. We spend a lot of time sitting on the couch, and we plan to continue to do so for years to come. We've bought a lot of wonderful [and beautiful!] furniture used, but we felt like it was time to skip the second-hand route, bypass Ikea, and buy ourselves a couch that was the perfect fit for our needs. 

The whole idea made me nervous, but I agreed to it. 

So this past weekend we went to a furniture store to pick out new couches. It was kind of insane trying to make a huge purchase while chasing a toddler around a furniture store (so many sharp edges and corners and breakable vases!), but we did it: we picked out a sectional that is getting delivered on Tuesday. We got insurance that includes coverage for dog pee, muddy paws, and red wine spills (true story, can you believe they have this kind of insurance?!), and the couch is insanely comfy and pretty. 

But guess what [and no huge surprise here]? Instead of going home excited about our biggest furniture purchase of our lives, I was an anxious wreck. Did we get the right couch? Why did we just go to one place, look at a few couches, and then pull the trigger? Why did I let Ben's thrill over having "the couch of his dreams" take over and lead to such an expensive purchase? Who do we think we are, buying a new couch from a nice store? What makes me think I deserve this or can afford this? 

Growing up, we never bought new furniture. Most of the furniture in our house was either used or a family hand-me-down. I still remember when I was young and we went to pick out a new oversized ottoman to go with our [hand-me-down] couch and it was a HUGE event. I was so proud of that ottoman. Later, my stepmom would buy nice new furniture for my dad's house, but there was always an undertone of my dad's disapproval because we all knew that he didn't really think they could afford it.

It's not like we were super poor or never had anything new, but big purchases were a big deal and new things were an even bigger deal, and I know this rubbed off on me; I feel the same way about buying big things now, despite having way more new things than my parents ever did.

And again, it's not like Ben and I have never made big purchases or bought anything new--I mean, we bought a house for goodness sake (!)--but we've never bought a piece of furniture this expensive. Or a big, brand new piece of furniture. And we've never made such a big purchase so quickly, with a toddler interrupting every question we asked and pulling my attention in another direction throughout the entire purchasing process... 

So that's where we are now. I'm trying to keep in mind that we do deserve this and are two thoughtful, very hard-working adults (parents, no less!), who can make big purchases when we want to and need to as long as we're being smart about our finances. I continue to remind myself that couches are expensive (in general) and investing in something nice and useful for our family is not reckless. I'm learning to let go of my anxiety around money, but it sure is hard when you're a person whose default is to be anxious about E V E R Y T H I N G.  

I'm also sure that I'll feel better once the couch is delivered and we see how well it fits in our new space, how comfortable it is, and how much of a difference it makes in our lives (at least I hope I will!); but also, I just hope Sayde doesn't pee on it the second it gets delivered. Or Charlie Mae doesn't throw up on it. Or I don't spill a glass of red wine right in the middle of it. Not that our insurance won't cover these things, but man, that would just be so us.