Unfortunately my home has been anything but sweet lately. I feel like I live in a hotel. Except that everyone has the room key and comes in to look at my stuff.
I love our little house, but that's just it, we feel like we have already run out of room. The barrage of new baby toys and gadgets has not helped our cause.
When we bought the house we are in I was the only one who could prequalify, because the government still hated Brett (and they still do for the most part). At any rate, they granted him permission to now qualify with me for a home loan. They figured they are sucking enough money out of his paycheck each week why not. So we kicked around the idea of selling our house and buying something we can stay in forever. Room to grow. Room to store stuff, room to entertain, you know just ROOM.
So we listed the house, and we had some steady traffic. It of course all seemed easier in my head. When your house is on the market you can't just keep it "clean". We kept our house clean already. Dishes were always done, laundry always put away, baby toys fairly organized, etc... When you are showing your house it has to be like no one really lives there. They need to picture it being their own home. So it is a fun game of "hide all of our shit". Maybe I am a little OCD and it is just now becoming apparent to me.
Another fun factor? Those dogs we have. Seriously, who's idea was it to have 3 dogs!? Damn my fate of obtaining rescue animals. Every time someone would want to show the house I would do the -hide your shit- scramble. Then proceed to stick the baby, and all 3 dogs in my car and drive to my moms until the people were done taking a look see at all of our hard work. An added element of surprise with 3 dogs trying to eat your soul is apparently not a good selling point when showing your home. So I have been diligently removing them for every showing.
Sometimes we would even get surprise guests, the kind that want to walk around while I am bathing my kid, or cooking dinner. Or not even there and the dogs still are, and the house isn't ready. The ones that are just so darn busy they don't want to call first like instructed in order to respectfully show the house. Then they are even more inconvenienced when we say nope sorry, so they rummage around our yard, and try to look through the windows while we live our lives. Or how about the nice old couple who came over early and let themselves in through the garage while I was trying to leave with everyone in tow? What gems, they had a good time talking to me about every tiny thing in the house, and the nice old lady even lifted her shirt up to show me her stomach. Really. I want out of this weird twilight zone! I would say on a good week I would average 8 hours in hiding and then unhiding our crap. I am tired.
Luckily we are finally on our way to selling the house.
But guess what? We don't have a new one to move in to. Yea, keeping up with the Jones' will be easy in a few short weeks. We will be posted up in my old room, at mom and dads. All 6 of us. Who's excited about that one?! It is convenient, no rent, free childcare. But the principal is a killer. I know what you may be thinking, wow those guys are really shitty planners. But we did have a good plan I assure you. We had made an offer on a short sale months ago, knowing the process could be a lengthy one. We had time to kill while we sold our house anyways. The sellers accepted, so yay step 1. At that juncture no other offers could be entertained, so we wait and hope the negotiations are going well, and the bank is on its way to accepting and giving us a closing date. We wait. Wait. Wait. A few weeks pass by, and then a few more. When checking in with the listing agent he appeared to be doing his job to check with the bank involved. And still working on selling our home we decided to be patient and diligent.
Then we get an offer on our house! and we are stoked, and we negotiate a fair price for all involved and we are super relieved. So? I drive by the house we are waiting on just to daydream and I notice the real estate sign is down, and a note is on the door...with information about the new listing agent and company. Um what the hell. We do a little digging and find out not only did the short sale go into foreclosure, it has already been sold on the courthouse steps and will be relisted who knows when, and who knows at what price. Perfect. I really can't understand how realtors get away with not doing their jobs. If they didn't want to do their work they could have at least told our agent. Not like there isn't a lot at stake here.
Anyways, we have been looking like crazy trying to find a house that is not wrecked and ready for us to move into without a total overhaul. It isn't easy even with our new budget. The name of the game is short sale a foreclosure these days. And that almost always means the people wrecked the place in some form or fashion. At this juncture we don't have the time, energy, or resources to remodel a home before we move into it. And maybe we are being a little picky with our wish list, but we don't intend to move again. EVER.
So-that is what is happening to my blog these days. I have been in real estate hell, and my wit has died along with my energy. I can assure you that the move to my parent's house will be providing me with plenty of writing material. So hang in there with me.