As I’m sure many women out there (and yes, some men as well) can relate to, we’ve got a constant “hair” situation happening in our house. Every time we turn around, there’s a drain clogged because, well, I’ve got a lot of hair. And when one has a lot of hair, it doesn’t always stay on your head. It often comes out. And goes in the drain. Some others in my household, who shall remain unnamed, seem to have a hard time understanding this phenomenon.
So, once again it’s been a while. That’s because blogging gets pushed down the priority list when you’re buried underneath 50 trillion moving boxes while celebrating your children’s birthdays while attempting a nugget of truth when you tell your five-year old that you are so excited to go get a tree and decorate it (and the house) while simultaneously realizing that you have yet to start buying them gifts two weeks before Christmas. A week after we moved into our new house Thanksgiving weekend, I was so far from being in a place where I could mentally picture bringing a tree into our already disasterous home that I remember driving to Target thinking of ways I was going to break the news to Ian that there would be no Christmas tree for us this year. A week, and 30ish (give or take) boxes later, we were driving up to the elementary school to purchase a tree. And it was all lovely, really.
By Christmas day we had managed to pull ourselves together with presents under the decorated tree and all. Most all the boxes were even unpacked. And, we actually had a really lovely day together, with yet more of that sunshine that has been oddly present so far this winter. Still, by Christmas night, I was done. A quick thought of, “I’m just going to take the stockings down…” turned into doing away with every single decoration and almost all of the tree decor. By noon the next day, Jeff was hauling the tree to the yard. I was renewed. And free to focus the rest of my time off this week on continuing to get our house in order. Speaking of houses…
When I started back to work last January, I spent the first few months thinking I had everything amazingly under control. Really. Work…two kids…this was doable. What’s all that complaining I hear about how hard it is to manage and juggle everything? This was going to work out just fine!
Then one day – I think it was this fall when Ian started kindergarten – I had some random minor breakdown in the car or something when I realized….okay, maybe this is not as “fine” as I thought it was and in fact, it is, kind of hard.
Of course the next thing you always hear is how kids #2, #3, #4, etc. etc. get increasingly less attention than the first one did. Of course – not me! Both of my kids were going to always get equal attention. Well, if that were true then perhaps I would not currently feel like the most negligent. parent. EVER. I mean, I’ve so had three strikes with poor Elena that I’m surprised St. Andrews hasn’t called CPS on us yet. And, all within the month of November.
Today took a very unexpected, but very happy turn. When I wrote last night, Jeff and I were due to sign the papers on our house today. The original closing date had been set for Wednesday and everyone on our side (led by our amazing realtor, Mike Hensley) who has been rooting for us throughout our bad luck streak was making miracles happen (that was the main news of last week…more on that story also later) to stay on track so that we could have a new house by Thanksgiving.
Unfortunately, the seller had a different idea. We were told on Friday that she had no interest in signing before the last possible moment on Wednesday, though she was informed by the people around her that she would need to sign earlier in the week in order for the sale to be recorded by the agreed-upon date in the contract of this Wednesday. There was a plan in place of escalating calls from the title company, etc. to urge a signing by Tuesday but honestly, we were doubtful.
This morning I headed into an all-day meeting at work. Mid-morning, with one check of email, this whole real estate saga of the past nine months suddenly appeared to come to an end. The seller, without telling anyone, showed up at the title office reception desk that morning to sign her papers. We arrived shortly afterward and even saw proof of a signature. And just like that, we became homeowners again. (Well, we will be once it officially records either late tomorrow or sometime on Wednesday.) Which truly means that this seemingly never-ending adventure is over. Let me say on behalf of both of us that we never imagined being this happy to take on a large debt.
Are we celebrating tonight and breathing a million sighs of relief? Absolutely. Has the reality hit us that this sell/buy housing adventure has finally come to close? Absolutely not. But it’s slowly sinking in.
We officially move in on Saturday (the movers have been scheduled since we moved out of our old house, though we feared even as of last night that we’d have to switch the date). I suspect that before then we’ll be over there on the floor with a bottle of wine on Thanksgiving day before we head to some friends’ who have graciously taken us in for Thanksgiving dinner. I can’t think of a better way to spend our day of thanks.
You know how you’re on a flight…maybe it’s only been a couple of hours or maybe it’s been several…and you are SO READY to land and get off that airplane and resume control of real life? So finally you are on the ground and taxing to your gate when you come to a screeching halt and the pilot announces that your gate is occupied so you proceed to sit there and wait? And you are so annoyed because it’s like you can reach out and touch the terminal, yet you can’t get there?
burpo banter 