LOST A SOCK

Choose Your Own Adventure

 

You'll remember this little gem, yes?

Okay, so it's been a relatively quiet eleven months and if you've not been reading for much longer you maaaaay not know that when we moved?  Back in 2007?  We never sold this little puppy. 

Yep, that was the point in time that our country was calling this Nightmare Economy a "Buyer's Market" and people still had jobs and retirement accounts and one could score an interest only mortgage for as little as twelve cents down happily paid with a MasterCard and three salted french fries.  No shortage of buyers that visited our little place, for sure, and unfortunately, no shortage of deals gone bad when it came to the not-sale of our little house.

At this time last year the house was just to the point of tossing dirt upon our heads as we lay in our deep financial grave, and we were left with no choice other than to foreclose find renters.  Fast. 

I like to call myself a doggone economy-downturn pioneer.  Bitches.

(I don't know.  The title, it didn't seem complete yet.)

So our renters signed a one year contract with us, and they kindly paid on the first of each and every month for a whole year and as far as we are capable of knowing, they've taken care of the house.  And they're nice, too.

I took the year and worked my ass off to dig us back out of credit card debt for the second time (where credit card debt is to nine months of two house payments as vomiting from your toes is to the stomach flu) and I went to great lengths to begin rebuilding our obliterated savings account.  Oh yeah, and I had a baby, too.

You love happy stories, don't you?

So recently, just as we began talking sophomore contract with our totally fabulous renters, we were alerted to the fact that we unknowingly (wherein accidental landlords probably would not know but eventually came to know) did not remove the mortgage and homestead exemptions on our old house when it became --- now say it with me, and annunciate, in a slow whisper -- when it became an "Investment Property."  (In the "Buyers Market.")  (Haaaaaa hahahahahaha.)  

So apparently our county really likes you to live in a house if you're getting a tax exemption for living there, and therefore they estimated the back-tax bill to be rather extremely large, and in the mail. 

I'd like to say something clever here, but only the phrase Beginning of the End comes to mind.

Because then bad-ass Escrow had to get in on the action, causing the payment on this little non-homestead of ours to increase by a couple hundred bucks a month, nevermind the fact that our rent checks already aren't covering what actually gets paid to the bank every month.  (But hot damn!  We have great credit!  We're honest suckers payers and we didn't foreclose with the rest of the free world.)

Now let us pause for a moment and think about Spring tulips and baby chicks.  It is what I tried to do when I heard this news, and also I placed my fingers in my ears and sang loudly until I realized that I just looked like a damn idiot and needed to start making out the check.

 

Who can forget the Knucklehead Smiths next door, eh? 

So after our uber-fabulous renters accidentally disclosed the fact that they were not only fully committed to signing another year contract with us but also are currently house hunting for something later this fall or early winter (thus leaving us high and dry in the snow, oopsie) we sort of wondered with the couple hundred dollar payment shortage, the tax thing, the new renter search, if we shouldn't just try selling again.  Look, I know the market is still shit, but maybe we'll get lucky, right?

Hrrrrmmm...  Did I mention the Knucklehead Smiths next door did foreclose in the past year? 

Ohhh they did, and now the Banklehead Smith property is on the market for approximately HALF of what the Knuckleheads bought it for, capping our available asking price somewhere around the twenty eight dollar marker.  Why buy ours if you can get the house next door with a garage and an extra bathroom for thousands less, eh?

We tried to strike a deal with our renters to purchase our place, though they respectfully declined (though still looking for a new lease for whatever reason?)  We've talked about hanging on to it for another year and bleeding the couple hundred dollars per month, though lets face it, my husband works in the financial sector and jobs are anything but guaranteed and stable anymore.  Last, we've talked about bare asses to the breeze, listing the empty house again and shelling out an ungodly amount of cash from our recently partial rebuild of an emergency fund to cover the difference between the final sales price and what is actually still owed on the mortgage.  If we can sell it this time.

We've got mere weeks left in the safety of paid-up renters, so we're going to have to figure this one out pretty quick, eh?

Ohhhhh Eight

With having Jack's birthday right there as we ring in each new year, I noticed that I've not ever written a Year In Review post or a Herrrrrre's What's To Come entry on this website -- even though I am actually a mite bit obsessed with a huge fan of reflecting on the past and planning for the future.  So if you'll allow me to drag the new year celebration on for just a bit longer (sure you can drink champagne while you read) we can take a quick look at my year past, and later the one to come.

When I think about 2008, now that we are all of six days into 09, I need a good cry.  Every time.  First I want to weep big crocodile tears of sobby sadness for the hard road that was last year, then some tears of joy and gratitude, and then back for a good long cry of relief.  We made it through 2008.  And frigging hell it was TOUGH.

I think 2007 was one of those years that makes the surrounding ones pale in comparison.  I felt most myself in 2007.  I had a ton of energy and on paper we really accomplished a lot.  We went lots of places and moved to a new house, Kevin took on a new job and I painted and redecorated and just felt healthy in so many ways.  I assumed that 2008 would be a continuation of the year previous and I could spend the rest of my life gleefully hopping around with two kids Enjoying Every Damn Thing (once we sold that pesky house, of course). 

Why hello Morning Sickness, where did you come from?

As can be imagined, I learned a lot this year.  I learned a lot about patience, and grace, and flexibility.  We chucked our plans for selling our old house and rented it out.  We chucked our plans for being a two-child family and opened our hearts to our new baby.  I chucked my plans for finishing my weight loss and for happily vacationing, and we put off every major purchase possible.  Some things really fell to shit, and some of them were rebuilt.  Some things I will never be able to discuss here, but, well, they played a large factor in The Crazy that this year was also.  I'm glad to see the year come to an end.  I'm grateful for all of the opportunities for learning that I was presented with, and I hope I came away understanding everything I needed to.  And my word, I am thankful for my happy sweet-smelling baby that came from this year. 

So here we go - 2008 In Review - In Numbers.

In 2008...

• I mowed zero lawns, dragged garbage cans to the curb only once, and shoveled snow only twice.  Ahh pregnancy, alas I find your perks. 
• We had 2 baby showers, 15 ultrasounds, 1 surgery, 1 tumor removed and 1 reproductive organ lost.  This year my body happily grew 1 beautiful six pound baby and I continued my long-standing career sabbatical to stay home, care for and educate 2 equally wonderful and energetic little boys (and then 1 adorable baby girl).
• In 2008 I consumed 467 pounds of cookie dough followed by a close second, 462.5 pounds of every variety of fresh fruit, canned fruit, fruit flavoring and fruity smelling non-fruit fruit.  I drank only 1/3 as much coffee as I would have, hosted 6 parties in our home, consumed 2 alcoholic beverages and gained 50 pounds (the calories in the alcohol, I tell you!)
• I changed approximately 4000 diapers in 2008, washed at least 1500 loads of laundry, had 2 houses flood, 1 roof leak, and 2 vacuums died.  I painted only 1 room in 2008, hid from 1 tornado, stepped on 984 legos, pinched 1 nerve in my upper back and fell down the stairs once in the middle of the night (and tore the thermostat out of the wall in the process, way to go on doing nothing half-assed.)  I blew my nose 14,982,227 times through the course of 17 colds. 
• In 2008 I ran the dishwasher at least 365 times and washed approximately 4 dishes by hand.
• Major purchases were limited to 1 larger vehicle, 1 winter coat, 1 television and innumerable pink baby sleepers.  This year we purchased 3 DVD's, no CD's, our first video game system as a married couple, and 1 video game.  I purchased 1 pair of shoes this year and no purse.  This year we went to no concerts, no movies, 1 musical, and paid 18 mortgage payments out of our savings veins pocket. 
• Holding strong, we managed to fully fund 1 IRA, rebuild our savings and close out the year without 1 dollar of credit card debt. 
• I read 2 books that influenced me in a major way, meditated at least 100 times and attended church only twice in the middle of an incredible spiritual journey.  I learned 2 very important lessons in 2008, watched my favorite documentary at least 20 times and claimed my personal stake as 1 huge History Channel Dork.
• I learned to love, appreciate and accept this 1 body that serves me whether it is baby-filled, overweight, well cared for or otherwise.  I quietly celebrated my 11th anniversary with Kevin, proud of its fruits, proud of what it took to arrive there.
• In 2008 we took no vacations but made our way into 4 neighboring states, attended no weddings, 1 wake, no funerals, 1 baptism, countless birthday parties.  I helped coordinate 2 classroom parties and rode a school bus 3 times.
• We scheduled 1 vasectomy and cancelled 1 vasectomy, no longer convinced that two 3 is our magic stopping number.  (Possibly I don't mind changing 4000 diapers a year as much as I think?)  I underwent 1 tumor regrowth check to find myself still tumor free and cancer free, hopefully forevermore, at least until February. 
• I kept up with 67 blog feeds, wrote 144 blog entries of my own and took more than 8200 pictures.  I read more than 1000 children's books, (mostly) potty trained 1 little boy, and taught my 2 boys about charity, hands-on, in 3 ways this year.  I made two sets of curtains, six pillows and my first quilt on my gramma's sewing machine.
• I mailed out 72 Christmas cards this year, and excitedly received 46. I was awful about responding to emails.
• In 2008 I sang hundreds of songs, cried more tears than I care to count, smiled thousands of genuine smiles and thanked God hundreds of times for all that we are blessed with.  Even when those blessings are wrapped up in an easy-to-exit year like 2008.

Peaks and Valleys

One year ago,

 

I had just completed painting our new house.  

   

And was still doing whatever I could to sell our old house.

 

One year ago we were learning how to swing two houses and their respective payments and upkeeps, while attempting to still have a Christmas.

 

One year ago we were shoveling the snow at our new house, and then at our old house.

 

Six months ago my shock was turning to complete excitement.  

But we were pulling out our hair wondering how we would swing it all, with two houses and a new baby.

 

Five months ago we concocted a new plan. 

It was pretty much our only option, and our hope to climb out of the hole we had been digging.  We were so nervous about whether it would work out, whether it was the right decision, whether we had what would be required of us to try moving forward, second house still in tow.

 

Today we have a happy, chubby-cheeked almost three month old baby who is a dead ringer for her Daddy.  We have spent the last five months re-gaining our footing and taking a breather from the stresses of day-to-day caring for two homes. 

Today we have no doubts that we made the best decision for what has happened with the economy, to hang on to the old house until its value returns. 

Today I shoveled snow at only one house, and I did not give a second thought to how we would afford a nice Christmas this year. 

Today is the first of the month, and when our renter came by to drop off his rent payment in our mailbox, he called from the end of our driveway to ask if I'd like him to run it to the front door so that I wouldn't have to trudge through the snow later, to retrieve the check from the mailbox. 

Several weeks ago they brought home their new baby to our old house-- their current home, and several weeks from now they will celebrate their first Christmas there as a family of four.  Today I realized again, as I have many times over the last five months, that we have been blessed with the absolute best case scenario. 

We really are finally okay.

During which we discuss a happy ending

I decided to not speak a word about superfluous properties or wishy-washy renters last week.  Truth be told, I had very little chance to write much of anything more than I heart food I heart food pink baby sleepers I heart food, with all of the renters I was interviewing and finalizing I was busy with. 

After having several For Sures who promised to failed to call the next day, and a few others who had a timetable different than ours, or were unable to pony up rent (heh heh, minor detail) we did finally nail down a nice little family to rent our house last week.  On Friday night we tied up all loose ends, and we happily traded a silver ring of keys for a check. 

And they moved in on Saturday.  Oddly enough, exactly one year ago that we listed our house on the market.

Whooooooo it's been a wild year.

I should totally lie and tell you that I did not drive by the house seventy-three times this weekend, oohing and ahhing the awesome potted plants on the porch, the glider swing, and movement - MOVEMENT IN THE HOUSE!  Unpacking boxes, eating dinner, happily living their lives in our house, finally.  Oh, did someone just peek at me through the blinds?  Why yes officer, I am affiliated with this property, why are you putting those shiny bracelets on me?

I'm so excited, and more than anything, so relieved.  As it stands, we have a one year lease with seemingly good people.  I couldn't ask for anything better.

So now it's time to re-focus, finally.  It's time to finish up projects around this house, pay off what's accrued over these last nine months in Double Mortgage Hell, and bulk up our savings account.  And also, have a new soft, smushy, wrinkly baby in a few months.

(For the love of Pete, I've waited a long damn time to say that.  Phew!)

People pay money for excitement like this (Updated)

(Cue Rollercoaster song, again.)

At the early part of the week I had made up my mind that it was time for something to happen with the house.  If it didn't want to sell, then FINE, we would take matters into our own hands and rent it out.  But this business of shelling out month after month of carrying costs?  Over.

I have to say that the most nerve-wracking part about the rental process (thus far) has been my complete lack of experience in creating legal documents for renters to fill out - applications, rental agreement, lead-based paint disclaimer, renter's insurance referral, etc.  I've never been a Landlord before, nor have I ever been a renter.  Thankfully I had received both advice and cheat-sheets from a few wonderful readers here, and that has been a great help in covering all the bases. 

So on Monday afternoon as I was trying to get organized, I received a call from our real estate agent that she was actually standing on the front porch of our house while a showing was going on inside.  It was going really, really well, she said.  The potential buyer was yet another young girl from my sister's work who had seen our flyer.  (Yes, flyers.  We're not playing around here.)  Anyway, our agent was quite excited that This Could Be It, right under the wire, as I'd already discussed our plans to give the real estate market a swift kick by Thursday.  She would let me know the next morning whether or not it would be a go.

The next morning she called with the unsurprising news that the girl had decided not to place an offer after all, as she was really looking for something with walk-in closets.  She has a lot of clothing - a ton, as she kept telling our agent, and she was very concerned about where to put it all without a walk-in closet.  That, and her spare wardrobe...for other clothing.  (Holy crap, clothing girl!)  (Also, kiss that fun goodbye, sister - you're nineteen, newly pregnant and house shopping.) 

Anyway.

I continued working on rental documents, and was alerted to another showing that would be taking place Wednesday afternoon.  FORGET IT, I told Kevin.  Not getting my hopes up, not ceasing my work to get this house payment into someone else's hands, even if that means it's still in our name. 

We didn't hear anything on Wednesday's showing.

So just before lunch today I stopped by the old house, feeling a little nervous but also excited for the possible new beginning about to take place.  And just as I'm pushing the rental sign into the ground, a car beeps at me and pulls into my driveway.  It's a real estate agent and he is bringing Wednesday's people back for a second showing.  Now, early on, second showings used to make me panic.  Because seriously, they're interested.  But at this point, we have not only had more than our fair share of offers-gone-bad, but also second showings?  Pfft.  Too many to count.

"Stay," the agent encouraged me.  "They might want to ask you questions."

I really did want to get out of there.  I didn't want to be the one responsible for blurting out something like, Keep your kids out of the busy street!  No, wait, come back.  Please buy our houuuuuse.  Also, I was very nervous since the last time I had KJ at a showing he POINTED OUT A SMALL HOLE IN A WALL to the less than amused couple.  (Hey you want to see the basement, too?  The ancient brick walls seep rain water!)

The couple was very concerned about none other than whether their bedroom furniture would all fit (apparently 1904 builders and 2008 furniture manufacturers DON'T TALK).  I tried to be as reassuring as possible, that we did actually cram a queen sized bed, oversized dressers, and a baby pack-n-play into that room all at the same time. 

It wasn't spacious, but it did all fit.

I answered their other random questions about heating costs and electricity, and whether or not it was okay to place a sofa over a cold air return (bashes self in head with nearby heavy object) and away we went.  The agent promised that he would give us an answer within two hours so that we would know whether we should remove our rental sign.

And five minutes after we pulled out of the driveway?  I received a call from an interested potential renter.  She and I set up an appointment to look at the house and write on my pretty documents on Saturday.

We are either selling or renting out this house.  And it is happening this week, so help me.

Update: Yes, we are doing something with this house this week.  We are, apparently, renting it out -- which is fine.  The buyers couldn't get comfortable with the sizes of the bedrooms, so I happily moved on to the EIGHT PHONE CALLS I received in the first four hours the sign was in front of the house.  I had a showing tonight with a woman who wants to scare the bejeezus out of me rent to own over two years and tried to give me money on the spot, followed by five more appointments scheduled for the next two days.  Although I feel very much in over my head right now, I'm so glad to see something happening with the house. Sweet, sweet something.

The vent heard round the world

So I'm sure you've had one of those headaches before, where it starts out a dull pain at the top of your head.  "It will be okay," you think to yourself, and even walk right past the supersized bottle of Tylenol.  An hour later, it's worse.  You take the Tylenol and think it will knock it out of you, no problem.  But no avail.  An hour later you're taking a second set of those little babies, kissing them as they pass your lips and wishing they be magical to the pounding in your brain. 

The next thing you know, you're holed up in your darkened bedroom, cool wash cloth covering your forehead that for certain has cracked wide open and begun bleeding by now, praying to God that not even the teensiest stream of light make it through those curtains and that the double dose of migraine meds you just swallowed?  Save your damn life, because things aren't looking good right now.

It's pretty incredible, too, that once the bastard headache subsides, there's that residual holy-shit-what-just-happened-to-me ache, but it goes away.  And just days later all is forgotten.

This is my house situation.  It's something we thought we could deal with in the beginning.  Something we thought we could simply wait out, and something we thought paint jobs and price drops and yard work would cure.  But now our heads are really pounding and we want nothing more than for the entire ordeal to please leave us, as soon as possible, we can take no more.

Part of the problem with keeping a journal of your life online is that in the moments when you are at your worst, when there's little more you can do than scream and cry over your overwhelming situation, the whole world has access to it.  It's not that we don't all have these breakdown moments when we feel we can't take any more, it's just that when you let it all out and then click publish?  People may possibly notice that you need to be grabbed by your shoulders and shaken.

We aren't losing either house.  We've not had our electricity turned off, have not skimped on our groceries, and have even able to dine out from time to time.  We've made some sacrifices and given up some things - even some important things, but as a family we are still okay.  We spend the precious time we do have together, together.  We never argue about the situation we're in, and we don't have any regrets for buying our new house.  We just wish things could be different.

We spent the first five years of our marriage living paycheck to paycheck, and then when Kevin got the new, better job, and then the next new, better job quickly thereafter, we thought we were finally free of the knotted shoulder muscles caused by financial strain.  We were so excited to have made it out of that alive, that we thought maybe we should even be rich someday.  We took the step that we could afford to take, and we got into the new house.  We knew that when the other place sold, that at last we would be able to live pretty comfortably, and finally build up a nice savings and a retirement.

Sweet relief, and letting that breath out is what we were anticipating.

It's got to be right around the corner, we just kept saying.  But my God, so many corners and we're going in circles by now. 

I was thinking this morning about how I've seen this pattern repeat itself in my adult life.  With each of my sons, pregnancy came neither fast nor easy.  There was a wait for both kids, and a period of time where I thought I would lose my mind.  Infertility was not as awful for us or as lengthy a process as it is for some, but it really wore on us, practically being able to taste our dreams come true, but not.  And I wondered to myself this morning what I learned from each of those situations where I had to wait through something so trying and so difficult. 

I learned that miracles most certainly do happen, and that when they do the residual sting goes away more quickly than I imagined.  I learned that when you really have to put your mind to something, and push yourself to take steps in directions you never thought you'd have to, that the happy ending is infinitely happier.  I learned that you just. cannot. give. up., even when you're tired and sad and overwhelmed.  And I learned that when the shit hits the fan, you find out what you (and in our case, our marriage) is made of.

Closing in on an entire year on the market, coupled with the other stress factors we've presently got going, has made the last few weeks the most difficult.  We've never been here before, and we really don't know what to do next.  There have been days, especially lately, that we've longed for someone infinitely wiser to enter our lives and drag us out of this situation.  We'd happily do as told. 

But after a few days of really thinking about my glass half empty post, I know that no one can fix this for us, and that the only thing I can do is get back to a place of gratitude for the situation.  We're here to learn something, and maybe it's a big something that takes a really long time to learn.  (Or maybe we're terribly thick-headed, which is a good possibility.)  There is no sense fighting this or worrying non-stop.  The house is still there, still empty, still ours either way. 

Things are going to be okay -- and not just down the road.  Things can be okay right now if I choose them to be.  So if you'll excuse me, and excuse my previous pitiful rant, I have to climb back on the horse now. 

(Wait, women aren't even supposed to ride horses while pregnant, are they?  Now I get it...)

I believe that if there were ever a time to panic, the time is now

So we are now just days shy of the one year anniversary of having our house listed on the disaster that is the real estate market.  If Me Now could go back and talk to Me Then about what was to come, I would probably just hug my terribly hopeful, naive self.  There would be no promises that things would be okay, no words of wisdom to just have patience.  Keeping the house in perfect order for showings, the treacherous roller coaster that was waiting to hear good news or bad from potential buyers, and keeping my kids in a constant state of clean and run was no way to live last summer.  And when it got to be too much by last September, we took a leap of faith with the offer we had secured, and we bought our new place. 

Of course you know the story, that the offer fell through and we ended up with two houses.  Then the second offer at Christmas time with the same unhappy ending. 

We've been carrying two houses for close to nine months now, and if you're guessing that we're under a bit of stress, you'd be right.  That, coupled with Kevin's awful work hours and the fact that I'll be delivering a baby at the end of the summer has been a lot to deal with, especially lately.

From Day One we tried to keep a positive attitude, always saying that our turn must be right around the corner.  We've knocked 25% off of our asking price, willing to go as far as receiving not a dime should we ever close on this place.  We just want to be free of it.  Last fall we raked leaves as needed, shoveled snow all winter, and now have begun cutting the grass and keeping the yard up again.  We kept the place lighted and heated and cooled as temperatures rose and fell in order to have comfortable showings, and we've cleaned and cleaned and cleaned.

Back in January when we learned that we were pregnant with our third child, I immediately began thinking about what that would mean.  Obviously, it meant re-buying every baby item since we'd gotten rid of everything before the move, sure that we were finished having children, and I also thought about a larger vehicle, having two in diapers, formula, insurance, and so on. 

We realized fairly quickly that, thanks to the double mortgage situation, buying a larger car was out of the question.  We'd have to cram our kids into what we had and hope for the best.  That was almost easy to deal with.

Next went our plans for any more upgrades to the new house, and sadly we said goodbye to the idea of our badly needed summer vacation.  As things got tighter and the baby's birth draws nearer, we've looked into downgrading Kevin's car, though found that not to be an option since we owe more than it would trade for, and thus the decision that if nothing else we could save on the cost of gasoline and Kevin would begin riding the train to and from the city.  This, of course, takes away his freedom to leave work when he's ready as he must rely on a spotty train schedule.  And I can tell you, for a man that leaves at 5am for work every day and arrives home at 10:30pm?  It's a sacrifice to not be able to hop in the car and head home on his own clock.

Going back to work for me, at this point, is not an option.  Teachers in my neck of the woods make little more than one flipping burgers at a local fast food joint, and to swing daycare for two - soon to be three, would barely be covered by my salary.  We'd be lucky to break even.

And so the latest to go has been our application to the private school we'd enrolled KJ in for kindergarten.  More than anything else, this was one "extra" that we wanted to proceed forward with in spite of the house situation.  But from the moment I signed the papers (and payed the three hundred dollar registration fee, EEK) I worried about how we could possibly swing it.  I spent hours re-working our monthly budgets, and I knew that we'd really be risking the last of our financial stability, and we had to create a new plan.  Thankfully, our son has been just fine about the whole thing, happily acknowledging that the public school has not one, but two playgrounds, which sort of makes me glad for him and breaks my heart all at the same time.  (And it's not that I'm saying there is anything wrong with public schools, it's just that we had a preference.)

Which brings us to now.

Now Kevin and I have both been even dealing with the situation in our dreams at night, feeling sort of sick all the time lately - needing something to just happen already.  We really did think that once Christmas passed, once the new year began, once the snow melted, once spring arrived, once the weather warmed up, once the tulips bloomed, that the house would sell.  And so we continued to give it as fair a chance on the market as possible.

But this sick, worried feeling in my gut is one that I cannot shake.  I feel like we're drowning and can't find the surface of the damn water.  I wish that I could detach emotionally from the situation, and put an end to my belief that good things just happen to people who are doing their best.  Because, seriously, it's tripping me up.

I bought a rental sign yesterday.  We originally said that April 30th was our deadline for sitting on the market, but the icy cold feet are playing a prevalent role in my ability to take the next step.  I've been reading a book on property rental and paging through the informative documents that have been shared with me.  And for a million reasons, I still abhor the idea of renting this house out.  First and foremost, I've got enough going on with caring for the boys and getting ready for the next baby, and obviously Kevin has no time to deal with renters since he spends ninety percent of his week in the city.  The roof needs to be replaced, the basement seeps water every time it rains, and the mortgage company does not allow for rental properties.  (Of course in discussing re-fi's with other banks, we have to leave the house off the market for 60 days before they'll even look at us, which would mean more carrying costs.)  I worry that someone will break a window, scratch the hardwoods, or let the cat they're secretly keeping pee all over our new carpeting.  I worry about getting a renter, and keeping a renter, and what to do if they fail to pay.  Those are bigger problems than I even have now, with it sitting there empty.  (Except for the assholes who dumped a large cup of chocolate ice cream all over the floor to harden while I was in the hospital last week.  Thanks.)

I barely even know how we got here, in such a predicament.  But I'm so very troubled about the entire situation.  I don't know whether it's time to rent because every time I think about it, read about it, talk about it, I feel sick.  But I know we can't go on forever blowing ourselves up financially, either. 

I feel like we've exhausted every channel and are at the end of our rope.  We've waited patiently, taken leaps of faith, and held on tight.  And now we're really, really at a loss.

I knew nothing until just now.

The house!

After two days, I finally have an answer.

The boyfriend?  Not on board.

The end.

I think we've heard that story ten thousand times in the last eleven months.  It's still sad, and still makes a spot on the left center of my forehead hurt really bad, and so we still wait for someone else to come along.  We dropped the price again, I cleaned out the landscaping, I painted the inside of a closet, I lit my St. Joseph candle.  What can we do?

(We change the subject and post pictures of charming brown bears, that's what.)

Thankfully, the weather has picked up and Spring may arrive after all.  We spent the day at the zoo yesterday, and it was perfect. 

KJ could easily scale what he had such difficulty with just last fall,

Jack set a record for Chocolate Teddy Grahams Consumed During a Dolphin Show,

and I met a brown bear who I wanted to take home for a friend.

Hey how's it going with selling the old house?

Ohhh, no shit.

Have you tried sticking your tongue out at disinterested buyers?  Like thith!

Or maybe grabbing your toes, lifting your hairy leg,

and...Oopsieee! excuuuse me.

Oh you tried it?  And that didn't help either, eh?

There, there, girlfriend, don't cry.  Let's paint our nails and eat blueberry bagels covered in unhealthy amounts of full-fat cream cheese, until we pop.  At least, maybe that will convince your baby to cooperate during tomorrow's ultrasound, eh?  I'm guessing a girl, what do you think?

The One All About The Crazy

This week is so going to be better than the last.  There's no way around it.

Looking back, it was so much better that my one whopping entry from last week was a summarized list of whines and complaints, because I think I might have gone on forever about...hmm...everything?

We did indeed start the first couple days of the week out with Kevin in the hospital.  He called me from work early Monday to say, "Hey Wife, how's it going?  I'm taking a cab to the ER."  Nice.  Anyway, he was diagnosed with diverticulitis and is doing much better after several days of fasting, IV fluids and lots of antibiotics.  I would like to kindly suggest he check in at an emergency room not in the Chicago Loop next time, since the entire event was anything but enhanced by the drive back and forth, back and forth, and shelling out $28 each time my toes touched parking garage pavement.

Last week can also be labeled One For Real Estate Market Freak Outs, as we move closer and closer towards the end of April, the time when we originally planned to pull our old house from the market in order to refinance and fill it with renters.  (And might I add, the closer we move to this deadline, the more desperate I grow to sell the damn house and be done with it, because I'm pregnant - with a surprise baby - and I have ENOUGH unplannedness on my plate at this moment without worrying about collecting rent payments and who's scratching up my damn hardwood floors.)  I got a call from my sister on Thursday (just before the call from my mom saying my poor aunt was back in the hospital needing emergency surgery, let's go up there,) that someone who knows someone who she works with had been calling our agent for FOUR DAYS to see the house, with no success on a call return.  To make a long story short, after several phone calls I learned that our agent was on vacation and I suppose potential buyers just have to A) guess that is the case, and B) wait, when that happens. 

Let us pause while I take a moment to TEAR MY HAIR OUT BY THE ROOTS.

The girl got another agent.  She saw the house.  She loved the house.  I loved her.  On Friday she needed to check her financing.  Over the weekend she would go for a second showing to convince her boyfriend that he, too, should love the house.

On Friday evening the kids and I picked Kevin up from the train, picked his car up from the shop, and checked the house before what we were hoping to be our most productive showing ever.  And that is when we found Lake Michigan to have dumped itself into our basement, of course.

On Saturday morning, while on our way to take Kevin's car into the shop for the THIRD TIME IN TWO WEEKS, we stuck a dehumidifier in the basement, and prayed for the best.

I have no idea what happened with the showing, but the basement is almost dry.  Supposedly Kevin's car is fixed once and for all, but I am not kidding you when I tell you that this car is not old enough to need this ungodly amount of money pumped into it, and why the hell does my car also take this very opportunity to need brakes and rotors as well?

I told you we signed KJ up for kindergarten in the middle of last week's insanity, right?  And that the question of tuition payments would not even BE ON MY MIND if it were not for surprise eleven months on the housing market, surprise double, triple, quadruple car repairs, surprise baby furniture, layette and where's my double stroller?  Oh that's right, I GAVE IT AWAY.

We honestly do spend so many of our days counting our blessings, because we know things could be so much worse.  We keep saying that our turn for selling has to be here at any moment now, and that everything will begin to get better.  It has not been easy for us, but so many people have things so much worse, and we're grateful that we are handling what we've been given.

It's just that when it all seems to fall apart at the very same time?  Those days are the worst.

--

Edited to add: I just learned that the Girl and Boyfriend Showing was rescheduled for this afternoon.  Please say a little prayer for us.  This HAS to finally be our time, yes?  I sincerely hope I can tell you in the next entry that we signed a deal.

With an end in sight

If you have been reading me for a while, you are painfully aware of the fact that when we moved into our new house six months ago, we left our old place empty and on the market.  At the time of our move, we were set to close with buyers who had us jumping through hoops, but buyers nonetheless.  We knew we could swing the month of double mortgage payments until closing, and seeing as how my sanity was growing shorter by the day with all of the cleaning and showing and ups and downs that come with selling a house, we decided that it was definitely time to go, even if the deal on the old place wasn't quite done.

The deal fell through, of course, just a week before closing.  Then we had a second set of buyers who backed out around Christmas time, and finally a third couple that changed their minds just before inking their offer last month. 

We've not had much fun selling this house.

It has been almost a year now, that we've been keeping our sites on an actual close for the house.  We've gone through the processes of both frustration and gratitude, have counted both blessings and curses, believed, buried the statue, lit the candles, said our prayers.  We've cut our asking price by twenty percent, and made peace with the idea of losing a little money.

We've been waiting it out, doing whatever we can to make the house both affordable and presentable, hoping our turn will come.

But now that we are in completely uncharted territory, with summer plans on the horizon and a new baby to quickly follow, we are having to make decisions that involve more than skipping a dinner out here and there, or spending a Saturday afternoon at the old house, cleaning again.  We have no idea how long this could possibly go on for, and have no intentions for finding out.

Originally we planned to let the place sit on the market through this entire summer if need be.  I had been fighting the notion of renting from day one, wanting only to part ways with the place and move on.  More recently we considered renting it out if, God forbid, we still hadn't sold by September.  But now that I will be having a baby at that time, we have decided that possibly sooner than later is better, lest I be stopping to help renters move in on the way to my scheduled c-section.  In carrying costs alone, we are creeping closer and closer to the ten thousand dollar marker for money that's been wasted during the long wait, and I'm starting to realize this might be the better, or even the only option for right now. 

So beginning this week, we are dropping the price on the house again.  This time, it will drop a thousand dollars per week for the next five weeks, as a last ditch effort to drum up some good showings and interested buyers.  During this time I will hope and pray like nobody's business that someone, anyone, comes through and signs on the dotted line once and for all so that I can just say goodbye already.

But should we have no buyer at the end of April, we will grab onto our hats and get ready for a new thrill ride.

I have no idea how to manage property, and I wish I could tell you that I'm excited about the idea. Mostly, I am afraid of what happens if our renters break something, flood something or put a hole through something, if the roof needs to be replaced (it does) and what to do if they fall through on payments.  I've got five weeks and a couple of reads to help me figure it out.  I need to know what to charge, how to check a background and draw up a contract, and how to collect payments.  I need to think about pets and lawn care and utilities, and we will have to refinance the place, seeing as how our current bank does not allow for investment properties.  (Thankfully, fixed mortgage rates are pretty damn nice at the time being, despite whatever we will put out for closing costs.)

Maybe I will get used to this after a while.  Maybe this will be the first of many investment properties we own, and I will look back on this as a jumping off point.  Maybe my new baby?  Will be Pearl. 

Or maybe we will squeak by in the next month and happily end this chapter in our life.  Either way, I will admit that there is much relief in having a plan for the end of the empty house saga.

Please do keep your fingers crossed.