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| The Basics | 10 nasty new-home surprises
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It's an ugly secret your banker, real-estate agent, even your best friend won't tell you: After moving in, you are forced to pay for a LOT MORE STUFF.
By MP Dunleavey
If you've never bought a house before, or if you're thinking of buying one now, the main thing you need to know is how much it's going to cost you -- really cost you. Not the asking price, not the negotiated price, not what the combined assault of the down payment, closing costs and moving expenses will set you back.
I'm not even talking about those annoying "hidden" expenses that get bundled into your financing, like last-minute pork-belly provisions that Congress slaps onto a bill just before it passes: title fees, bank fees, filing fees, processing fees, holy-cow-we-need-a-new-ashtray fees.
Even after you pay for all of that, just when you're ready to wipe your brow and say, "Phew, I'm glad that's over," brace yourself for yet another onslaught of major expenditures that no one ever warned you about.
Lucky for you, I'm here with the wakeup call and the numbers. Get out your pen and revise your home-buying budget accordingly:
You've got guests
The whole reason people buy houses is because (drum roll) houses have more room! Unfortunately this means you can now accommodate guests, and they start coming out of the walls like cockroaches in a dark kitchen. After the age of nine, most guests not only stop bringing their own pillow and sleeping bag and Honeycomb cereal, but they also expect you to provide the grown-up equivalent of all of the above. For every extra bedroom you acquire with your house, you need to budget for beds, sheets, towels, end tables, lamps and some meals. Yes, even if you're using the den as a guest room, your guests will still want all that stuff.
Total estimated cost: $1,226.44 per bedroom.
'If I had a hammer . . .'
Actually, I don't. And that's the problem. Houses require all kinds of fixing, and you need tools -- pliers, screwdrivers, saws, washers, nuts, drills, drill bits, wrenches and a backhoe -- in order to cope. Why this isn't written into your mortgage, I don't know. Don't forget the duct tape and a Swiss Army knife.
Total estimated cost: $4,379.15
The insta-repair
The minute the ink is dry on your mortgage, something in your house will break. It's an amazing fact about buying a new home, but few people acknowledge it. In my case, the front-door lock didn't lock and the hot water heater stopped heating the water, mid-shower, no less! Maybe you'll get off with a clogged toilet, or maybe your garage won't open. Just be ready. And don't try to call the super.
Total estimated cost: $25 to $15,000
The grass isn't greener
The nice thing about apartments is that you don't have to mow them. Now I have a yard. And something in it that looks suspiciously like a garden. Back in the summer when I bid on this place, there were lovely little wildflowers blooming all over the place. Will they come back? I don't even own a watering can. Or a lawn mower. Or a rake. Or seeds or fertilizer or a shovel or a weed whacker!
Total estimated cost: $1,500 for yard equipment or $175 for monthly visits from a gardener.
Commuting: your sentence
Gas, tolls, wear-and-tear on your car, possibly a second car for your spouse, monthly train passes, bus tickets -- it's not an insignificant amount. In my case, my added commuting costs are equal to my property taxes. I don't know if that's a standard ratio, but I wouldn't be surprised. There's probably a Nobel Prize in economics waiting for the guy who figures that one out.
Total estimated cost: $4,080 a year.
Who swiped my picnic table?
When you buy a house, you may become unconsciously attached to at least one item that the seller is going to move with him when he goes. The real-estate agent should make you sign a form that says: "I know none of these objects belong to me, nor will they ever belong to me, no matter how good they look in this house."
For some reason, I was sure the seller would leave the picnic table. It was worn and gray, but it worked with the rural landscape. I never dreamed he would want it for HIS new house. Huh. He did. The nerve of that guy. Now I have to buy my own damn picnic table. And an umbrella.
Total estimated cost: $245
Driving a 97-pound weakling
Before you buy a new house, have a heart-to-heart with your car. Can your car take the new terrain? The longer commute? The comparison with other cars on the block? No one told me and my Toyota we'd need four-wheel drive on serpentine upstate roads. No one mentioned that cruise control (which we also don't have) keeps you sane on long highway drives. No one mentioned how sad and lonely my little Tercel feels when surrounded by big muscular Jeep Cherokees.
Total estimated cost: OK, all I really need are snow tires. $250
Window mistreatment
I grew up in New York City, where each apartment is allowed to have two windows. Now I own a house that has like 38 windows. Or something. I lost track. Point is: blinds, drapes, shades, valences, sashes, tassels, shutters and all those window treatment things add up. Don't get all gaga because your house has two-and-a-half baths. Count the damned windows. I am currently shelling out enough money in curtains to fund a modest fleet of B-2 bombers.
Total estimated cost: Several trillion dollars' worth of chintz
Do you speak kayak?
When you move to a house, especially your first house, you're going to be in a new, often less-urban milieu. What you don't realize is that your new locale will come with a new set of recreational sports and leisure activities you'll be forced to engage in. For example, I will be forced to take up kayaking. I just know it. In order to fit in and have idle chit-chat with people at the Bun 'n' Cone, I will have to buy a kayak and probably a kayak rack for my car. Not that my car needs any more problems.
Total estimated cost: $3,260 (not including lessons)
New house, same old stuff
The biggest financial mistake you can make as a new homeowner is to believe that an empty house is a fresh start. Um, no, it's just an empty house, into which you will put your ugly old unsatisfactory furniture that just looks all wrong. That's fine. Let it look wrong until you stop noticing. Just don't slip into that automatic default mode that tells you to buy new things to go with your new home and your new life! That works with lipstick and haircuts, but it's way too costly with dining sets.
Total estimated cost: Nothing, I hope!
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