You can call me stunted if it makes you feel better.

When my husband and I first got together, and pretty much immediately realized we were going to get married, we started having The Talks. Do you want kids? How many? What are your goals for the future? Where do you want to live? (Secret: These questions, with the right person, actually aren't excruciating.) New York City was not either of our answers four years ago, but we obviously changed our opinion and thankfully grew into this idea together. (Secret: Changing is okay.) School was our excuse to move here for a year and is now our excuse to stay here, but we like it here as a home. When talking about where we were going to live, what the hubs and I initially didn't completely agree on was where we wanted our house to be, in town or in the country. I always voted in town; he liked the country. What this discussion really revealed is that we assumed we buy a house someday.

The idea of home ownership didn't appeal to me four years ago, but I figured I was just being immature and I'd get over it. I'm almost 30 and I still don't want to own a home. Just thinking about it makes me tired. Owning a townhouse here in the city or being part of a co-op is stomachable, but moving away from the city and needing to drive everywhere is not. This is probably why I always leaned toward living "in town." The hubster right now feels the same way; the "country" can be vacation, not home. You'll of course be the first to know if this changes.

I'm not raging against the machine or judging homeowners with lawns and fences and car seats (well, maybe a little, at least the belief that all normal people want this), but I am saying this isn't for me now and maybe never will be for me, and I'm okay with this. Turns out, a lot of people are okay with this, according to this New York Times article. Yes, we plan on having children. (Secret: It's okay to have children in the city.) We even plan on having a dog. For the same reasons we like living in the city we'd like to raise kids in the city. This doesn't make me better or worse than the proverbial you, just different. Or maybe not that different.