I was recently telling my mom how CRAZY it is that in just a little over a month we will (HOPEFULLY) need to have every belonging packed up and cleared out of here for moving day – May 28^th!  We’ve reached “Mutual Acceptance” on the home we want to buy, which means things are finally starting to REALLY come together!!  When Larry and Kathy (realtor-extraordinaires) called to say, “Congratulations, you’re buying a house!”  I, of course, shrieked a little and got VERY excited.  Then, just as often happens, Mike was the voice of reason.  Don’t get me wrong, he was happy and excited but this was the conversation:

Me: YAY! (shouting)

Mike: Yay! (with happiness but at a normal volume).

Me: YAY. (with some insinsistence that he reach my level of joy/volume).

Mike: Yay! (more monotone).  Now we have more paperwork to do.

Me: OK, but YAY!

Mike: Yay. (even more monotone).  Now we have to get through the inspections.

Me: (a little angry now), Yes, I know, but YAY. (darn it).

Mike: Yay.  Oh, we need to write the big, fat earnest money check….but, yes, yay!

Me: Monotone yay.

See, I’ve learned that there are about 25 hoops to get through before you’ve actually successfully sold/bought a home.  It’s kind of like how I felt when I learned how that whole babies-are-made thing.  First, it grossed me out a little (I was 9 or 10 at the time) and then I wondered: if SO many things need to happen for a baby to be conceived, it’s kind of amazing that so many do get made!    

So, a lot still needs to happen for THIS to all work out, but I know, somehow, in the end, it will.  Tuesday was a good day.  We found out that they’d accepted our offer on the home we wish to buy.  Yesterday was an awful day since we got the inspection report and list of demands for the buyers of our current home.  When I asked Larry how bad it was he said (and I quote).  “Bad.  It’s pretty awful.”  Four pages. FOUR pages.  Over 25 things that they want us to do, fix, replace, repair, purchase, change.  Ugh. It hurt.  And to make matters worse, Larry was told, quite clearly, by the Buyers’ agent that if we don’t comply, these buyers are VERY likely to walk away from the deal.  (Totally feels like blackmail, doesn’t it?!).

We only said no to a couple of items on the list, and even to those we did our best to say, “Well, sort of ‘no’ but here’s our very excellent reason for saying that…”

I called my mom in tears yesterday after reading through everything that we’re expected to do in the next few weeks…not to mention the fact that I still have to pack the whole house…oh, and it’s Zach’s birthday weekend in another day and we’re having two nights of sleepovers with our best friends’ kiddos – 6 kids hanging here this weekend (which, I am actually REALLY looking forward to and thankfully the 4 boys do a pretty good job of entertaining themselves…I’ll just be entertaining Kayliana and 1 year old bff Veronica)…we also have two baseball games and a practice every week for Matthew…we also have Mike’s sister, brother-in-law and new baby coming for a weekend for Matthew’s First communion (also something that I’m REALLY excited about)…anyway, I could go on and on with all the activities (99% of them fun) that are already down for the month of May.

So, I’m whining to my mom about how CRAZY it is that we have to pack the whole house and do ALL these stupid repairs ‘n house projects ‘n stuff and it’s just crazy and crazy and CRAZY and my mom calmy says:

“Jenny, you specialize in crazy.  You’re always busy.  You always have tons going on, and you always get it all done.  We’ll get through this together, you’ll have plenty of help, but, for the record, you do crazy all the time and the rest of us just sit back and enjoy it.”

Well, here’s to crazy!  ‘Cuz it’s a-comin’!

I need about, mmm, three full days to adequately get caught up on blog-updating goodness. Unfortunately, I don’t have that kinda time (who does?) so I will attempt the – inhumane – job of limiting my wordiness.

First: Mom’s 70th Surprise Party was Saturday night. Basically, in a nutshell, it could NOT have gone any better. It was AMAZING. I’m still stunned that we totally pulled it off and she was SO surprised. My brother Timothy and his wife Rebecca (along with my dad) kidnapped mom for the afternoon and went to the Seattle Art Museum. The second they left my brother Chris called and I swooped in. He and I spent three hours getting their place party-ready. Then my best friend Rebecca rolled in with more than half of the deliciously-prepared food-goodness. (I didn’t know, back when we planned the menu, if I’d even have access to my kitchen thanks to showings/house for sale stuff…and really, she’s just a really good cook and I was totally cool with her doing ¾’s of the food  ). All guests (about 30) were to arrive by 5pm with the goal that mom ‘n gang would roll in at 5:15. Well, at 4:15, Tim called and said, “Mom is DONE. We’ve dragged her around the museum long enough. She’s tired of being on her feet…I don’t know if we can stall any longer.” So, basically at that point, it looked like mom would be here BEFORE the guests. It’d be a bit of an anti-climatic surprise. Thankfully, a few minutes later, I got a text from Tim: “Got her to the museum café!!!” Excellent.

They ended up arriving at 5:30. So, we had plenty of time for all guests to arrive, to serve them some drinks, some appetizers and to squeeze them all into the living room, around the corner from the front door. We all waited in nervous, excited anticipation as the front door opened. We heard mom say, “Oh! It smells like….oh, I must’ve left the oven on.” She noticed the different table cloth and huge bouquet on the dining room table. Then she stepped a little bit farther into the room and froze, jaw on the floor. Surprise!! It was SO great.

One of my favorite surprises was the book that I put together with the help of many, many family members and friends. (I used shutterfly.com and must say the customer service – when I needed to call – was excellent)! We had photos of her all through the years including a darling baby picture on the cover. And then about 24 people wrote her letters that I put in the book too. Needless-to-say there was a bit ‘o tear-wiping when she saw what all was in that book.

One of the best parts of the whole weekend (for me) was on the morning after the party. Mom told me, “I woke up at 3am and was just grinning from ear-to-ear. I was still so excited about the party, I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I got up to look at the book. But it’s going to take me about a week to get through it because I start crying right away with each letter.” Success? I’d say so.

Another success story? Hopefully, SO close, we’re ALMOST there…Our house news!!! The inspection on our current home is today which makes me so nervous. I’m just PRAYING that they don’t discover anything big ‘n bad requiring a ton of work and/or money from us. I CAN’T WAIT for this part to be over so that I that the house doesn’t need to be perfect all the time…and so I can start the joyful task of packing. (Oye).

BUT….BUT….we’ve found The One. We’ve SO found The One. We saw it on Wednesday afternoon. It belongs to the brother-in-law of Jason, a real estate agent we met a couple weeks ago. He was the listing agent on the last house we made an offer on. Basically, he fell in love with us and is just determined to sell us a house! Works for me. The house isn’t even on the market yet, so we have NO competition. AND they’re gutting the thing and completely redoing everything – new carpet, hardwoods, granite counters, appliances, sinks, showers, deck, paint, landscaping, etc. SO, we may even get to have a small say in wall color, flooring, etc. The house is perfect. Pretty much everything we’ve been dreaming of. And the property is awesome. It’s a ¼ acre with part of the back yard turning into a ravine that slopes down to a dry creek bed. Kid-playing MAGIC. The back yard is definitely a project and will require a big landscaping overhaul eventually (putting in tiers, or some sort of pathway), but it’s SO cool and I can’t wait to tackle it! We’ll hear today from Jason and his brother-in-law with their counter offer. We asked for a few things that weren’t included in their asking price. (We want the washer/dryer and fridge and hardwoods instead of carpet in the dining room. Plus, they’re finding out this morning, the status of the original furnace – whether it just needs maintenance for now or will need to be replaced). It all feels pretty great though. We just need to get through the last few hoops.

Basically, again, like the adoption, in that it didn’t feel final ‘til Kayli was home with us. This probably won’t feel real until we’re unlocking the front door with our very own key.

We got an offer! We got an offer! We got an offer! Happy dance! We received it yesterday – a solid, pretty darn good, with a reasonable closing date (May 31st) offer. We countered and will likely hear back today. This is step one in the hoops to jump though – as we still have to get through the inspection and appraisal. But still…hooray! Now we have to pray our butts off that “The One” comes up and we can offer in the next couple of weeks so that we can have a 30 day close and something to move into come June 1st!

One of the beautiful aspects of having sons is that I feel happy passing along many of the ‘boy issues’ to Mike. He knows more about dude-man stuff, so he should be the go-to on male-related topics. So, that was my policy when, last week at baseball practice, Matthew was hit with the ball in the family-jewels region. Mike said that we needed to purchase a cup or “Underwear Armor” (as the boys have decided to call it). I said, “Great! Have fun shopping!”

I was actually with Mike for the purchasing of Matthew’s cup (not the kind to drink out of, to clarify for those of you having a hard time following along here). I left the decision making to him as he carefully made the selection for Matthew’s baseball accoutrement.

Tonight was Matthew’s first game ‘o the season and I’d told Mike that I’d like it if he could be home to help Matthew get suited up properly. I don’t want to be responsible for that! Well, unforatunely, our well-thought out plan (Mike getting into work early and leaving work early and meeting us at home) didn’t happen. We ended up having a house-showing, so we couldn’t even be home for getting geared up. I brought Matthew’s stuff and he changed in the back of the car. Unfortunately, Mike also got held up at work so he couldn’t even be there for the back-of-the-mini-van clothes changing. I got Matthew situated as best I could, but I basically figured, ‘he’s a boy, he must have some sort of male instinct to figure out which direction this thing goes’ etc.

I guess it feels a little weird having this big ‘ol piece of hard plastic hanging out right there. Once dressed, Matthew struggled to get his cleats on and reported that it was difficult to bend his legs. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Then I watched as he ‘jogged’ to the field and was horrified to see that his new, uh, accessory, was causing Matthew to do a funky-wide-legged waddle-run unlike anything I’ve ever seen. That’s when I called Mike on the phone and put a little heat under his butt to get to baseball…STAT.

Thankfully, Mike soon arrived and was helping Matthew warm up. Every time I’d glanced over at my son he was attempting to adjust and readjust and maladjust and who-knows-what-adjust his Underwear Armor. As I chased Kayli around the playground I was relieved to know that Mike was there, handling the situation. When I looked over the next time, however, I watched in horror as Matthew, standing in the middle of the field, wiggled and woggled and pop! Pulls out his hand holding the frustrating-non-cooperative plastic cup-piece of torture high above his head like Lady Liberty’s torch. Mike quickly grabbed it and stuck it in his pocket.

Turns out Matthew had it on upside down. And extracting it was tricky. And now we’ve all learned – which direction a cup goes AND that Mommy shouldn’t be the one having to deal with this stuff!

We had a wonderful Easter and spent this last week Spring-breaking. We (the kids and I) enjoyed the best combination of chillaxin’ at home but also playing tourist in Seattle with a trip to the aquarium and one to the zoo. Kayli LOVED the fishies. At every aquarium we went up to she’d squeal and then say, “Woah, woah, woah, woah.” (Having technical difficulties uploading photos, so be sure to see previous post's as well).

We spent the last 24 hours undergoing nail-biting home-purchasing negotiations AND finally – yay! Finally, we were told that, in the nick ‘o time, we’d be receiving an offer on our home. For several hours it all seemed like it was going to perfectly come together.

Yeah right.

None of it came together. Once again, we were told to anticipate an offer only to have the buyer change his mind at the last moment (after the agent wrote up all the paperwork and everything). So, once again, without an offer, we can’t do anything to buy this particular home and it goes to someone else.

Stupid someone else.

Whatever, the yard was too small anyway. (That’s what I’m telling myself to expedite the mourning process on this one).

On top of all the crazy house business (oh, you know, no big deal, just buying A HOUSE), we’ve also discovered a startling truth: Matthew is lying on a bed of lies. He is the Boss of an undercover, black market, covert-ops, completely illegal (school rules-breaking) 2nd grade Lego-trading mafia ring.

We don’t know quite how long it’s been going on. (We think for several months).

We don’t know how many young thugs are involved in this nefarious crime. (We think four).

We don’t know how many Lego’s were lost during this time. (We think at least one and possibly many, many more).

We don’t know if this surprising streak of leadership in Matthew will lead to him being a creative and successful business entrepreneur or the head Boss of an illegal trading ring of some sort. (We’re hoping the former).

When we finally got to the bottom of the web of deceit (we think, we HOPE we finally have the full story), Matthew – through endless tears – gulped out, “I just hope my friends still like me even though I….sniffle….sob….spilled the beans!”

And later, when we were attempting to uncover the pattern of this illegal activity, Matthew admitted that he had plans to perform one of these shady transactions tomorrow. “Well, I had planned to do a trade with Nathan tomorrow, but I guess I’ll just have to cancel that.”

Cancel that, you will, my friend. And all future prohibited trading as well. No more Lego-black market swaps. No sir. Not on my watch.

We’ve made another offer on another house. This one is perhaps even more of a long shot as we’ve been told that they also received a different offer yesterday that was “solid” and non-contingent (unlike ours). However, there are some things in our favor: the listing agent WORSHIPS our agents. He used to work with them and he would hand us that house on a silver platter if he could. Obviously, it’s not entirely his decision to make, it’s the sellers’, but he can definitely help our cause in his sales pitch. He (Agent Man – A.M.) came over to see our house yesterday to see how sellable it is. A.M. went on and on about how highly it speaks of US that we’re working with our agents! Why, thank you. A.M. encouraged us to present a strong offer and also suggested that we write a cover letter.

Now, I’ve heard about these letters and was hoping that we’d get to do one. Basically, it’s a similar theory to the “Dear Birth Mom” letter that we got to write when adopting. “Here’s why we’re the awesomest family for you and why you should pick us to raise your baby…!” Obviously, I had to tone down the floweriness of our cover letter a bit. I didn’t get to be all creative and do “The Top Five Reasons why you should sell US your house” or “Once Upon a Time, there was a family…” I kept it simple and the focus had to be primarily on what we’re doing to get our house to sell quickly so that we could make purchasing their home a reality.

We’ve dropped our price again, for one. And it’s not like our house hasn’t been popular: We’ve had 36 showings in 38 days on the market (not to mention the 24 people that were here for the Open House). We’ve had about five very interested potential buyers and one that, at the 11th hour, changed their mind about writing an offer. We’ve been told “the house is priced to sell” (even more so now!) and “shows great.” So, what gives?

Realtors will say that in this market, it still might be overpriced (though we’ve heard plenty of the complete opposite sentiment). We’re competing with foreclosures and short sales and buyers are just looking for a smokin’ deal.

I say that The Ones just haven’t found us yet. The right people haven’t walked through the door. We knew the moment we walked in here that this was The One for us. It’s been the absolute perfect home for our family for nine years now. It’ll be the perfect home for someone else. We’re talking to St. Joseph more seriously now. Asking that he see with the Big Guy about getting those folks on over here….like now.

So, anyway, we’ll see what happens with this latest offer. I guess I’m trying to be more rational about all of this now. I’m trying not to get my hopes up too much. But truth be told, even more so than the last house we made an offer on, this one felt RIGHT. We’ve been told time and again, we’d have to compromise on something. We won’t be able to get EVERYTHING on our list. With the last house, the layout wasn’t totally ideal and what we wanted. With this house, the layout is pretty near perfect and I love nearly everything about it. Ironically, of any house we’ve seen, it’s the most similar to the Mountain House (the house that started it all…sigh). BUT…the yard IS a little bit smaller than we’d like. That’s the one thing that we’d be giving up. It still has a nice yard – flat and fully fenced – but it’s just a might bit smaller than we’d hoped for. (I’m trying to focus on that so I’m not too heart-broken if this doesn’t turn out to be The One).

Honestly though, this house – hmmm, doesn’t have a name yet, let’s just just be optimistic and go with The House – felt ‘righter’ than the last one and for a primarily silly reason. Last House had GORGEOUS chandeliers. I even have a couple of pictures (one where Zach is holding up his muddy shoes as we exited out the front door). I loved these chandeliers but I was also a little embarrassed by their swankiness. I felt that I didn’t deserve them. A part of me felt like if Last House had been The One, I’d always feel like I was just pretending to live there.

Yesterday, as we walked through The House, I paid special attention to the light fixtures. “Yeah, I deserve you guys,” I thought. “You and I, Mr. Light Fixture, we’d get along JUST fine.” I loved the entryway and dining room chandeliers. They were pretty without being too showy. They were homey and comfortable without being too casual. You could dress them up or down. They were perfect for any occasion. (Like me, perhaps?)

So, did I find my soul mate light-fixture house?? We shall see…

I’m actually not going to talk about house-news, because, sadly, there’s just not much worth reporting. So, let’s focus on a different development in the Martin home. I never thought I’d type these words, but here goes: we have…a climber. Kayliana is a total monkey. I know I used to say this about Zachary – quite frankly, I still refer to him often as my Monkey Pants. (Though that’s pore in personality than climbing tendancies). The most exciting climbing that Zach ever did was a one time thing. (Maybe he decided that my freak out reaction just wasn’t worth the brief moments of adrenaline). Way back in September of 2007, I discovered then 17 month old Zachary (one month older than current Kayli), on the dining room table. He had climbed up and was standing – I kid you not – dancing a jig and dumping my mug of lukewarm coffee into my dear old laptop Kara. This was one of the first baths Kara endured. She also enjoyed a dose of chocolate ice cream and either red wine or Diet Pepsi (I can’t remember which and it’s quite possible she did eventually have both) – pretty much all of my favorite things. But that was Zach’s one and only climbing adventure.

Kayliana, at 16 months old, on the other hand, is a lot more adventurous, daring and physical, (crazy? Clumsy?). She’s already sported a slight black eye, a bloody nose and too many bruises and bonks to count. Kayli, several weeks ago – maybe even a couple of months ago now – had climbed up on the dining room table (just like her older brother) and was sitting calmly in the middle of it not dumping – nay, not even spilling a drop – but casually sipping out of my full glass of water. (Thank goodness it wasn’t a full glass of wine as we know those do have the tendancy to be a common sight in this kitchen).

She is now CONSTANTLY climbing. She’s a furniture mover – moving stools or chairs to better boost herself to the next level of excitement. My mom briefly suggested REmoving all the chairs for a while (and then remembered when you’re staging your house for selling that’s not an option nor really is living a chairless life that do-able). Plus, Kayli might just upgrade to couch moving then.

I once heard about the grandchild of my mom’s friend. He was also of this climbing, chair-moving pedigree. One day his mom walked into the kitchen to find her toddler sitting calmly…ON TOP OF THE REFRIDGERATOR!! Is this my fate?

We’ll have to invest in Depends or anticipate frequent near heart attacks. If you know Mike, you know that he has the tendancy to be extra uber EXTREMELY cautious and nervous about our childrens’ safety. You’d think we’d be getting used to Kayli’s predisposition for living on the edge. We’re not.

Yesterday, Kayli, unbeknownst to me, had climbed up in her high chair/booster seat thing and was standing and dancing when she fell straight down to the floor breaking the fall with…her forehead. Nice big ‘ol egg.

A few days ago, Kayli was standing on one of the couches. She was actually about to sit down when her foot caught and she pitched straight forward in a death drop to the edge of the coffee table. At the last moment, she managed to get her hands out in front of her and do a chest press off of the table otherwise she SO would’ve split her forehead open and that SO would’ve been such a pain. I mean, think of the blood stain on our freshly shampooed carpet!

So, right when I think things have gotten kinda crappy, a little lametastic and I spend my blog time whining about the injustice of it all, things get…just a little bit (A LOT) worse.

Stupid cranky old crusty anti-social neighbor lady who lived across the street from us moved out. We knew that the for sale sign was imminent. On Tuesday morning (pretty much write after posting my previous whiney, woah-is-me blog post), I looked out the window and saw the white sign swinging ever so gently in the breeze. Mike and I eagerly hopped on-line to look up the price. Hoping that she’d be priced insanely high making us look even better! (Especially considering that we’re already “priced to sell.”)

“Are you even kidding me?”

“That’s gotta be a typo.”

These were our first thoughts. Our second thoughts were more like this, “What the @$#@#(%*@#($*@(#$*@#(%@&(!#$@* That’s @#$*(@#)@$*)@#*%* ‘cuz @#$*(@#*%(@*#)%* and then @#$%*(@#$(*@%(*@#%^^&( so @#%(*@#(%*@#%)*”

Her house is priced nearly $50,000 less than ours. A nearly identical home. Now, there is a VERY major difference: walking into that house is like hopping out of a time travel machine and stepping foot in the foyer of 1976. We’re talking fuzzy pee-yellow wallpaper, poo-brown cabinets (do you see a body-function theme here?), vomit-colored carpet, thin flimsy whistling windows, etc. So, yes, a good $50k, EASILY, could be pumped into that home in upgrades, but, BUT…it still TOTALLY messes things up for us, and it just makes no sense whatsoever.

The house is priced $25k less than the tax appraisal value, but because they’ve priced it so insanely low, this STUPID LOW PRICE HOUSE (SLP-House, for short) will ruin us when we sell and have to get a bank appraisal. Our homes are similar eras, sizes and floor plans, so they will use her house as a comp in calculating our home’s value. ARGH. Grrrr.

Yes, there are some pro’s to this situation: sure enough, there’s been a flurry of real estate activity over there so naturally people pull one of our flyers as well, and we have had three showings since Tuesday morning (at least one of which was basically since they were already across the street so they called at the last minute to see if they could see ours too). Another pro: not everyone wants a fixer-upper, so if they see the pee-poo-vomit ‘70s SLP House and then come across to ours, our home automatically looks and feels newer, brighter, bigger, and better. But still…still…the whole thing has made us feel a bit like we’re swimming upstream now.

When I picked Zach up from the bus stop today, I told him that there was literally a line of real estate agent cars along the street just waiting their turn to visit the SLP House. Without skipping a beat, he said, “Were they doing the car conga line dance? You know ‘dah-dah-dah-dah-dah’ and then they open the doors instead of sticking their feet out! Dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-open doors, Dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-open doors,” He sange and danced his way home.

If only life were always as fun as it is in the mind of a five year old.

It’s not that I’ve lost faith and hope; it’s just that I’m getting a little tired of this house-selling business. And, yes, I know that in the big picture, especially in this market, being for sale for 3 ½ weeks is NOTHING. But I really was so hopeful, so optimistic (so foolish?) and thought that we’d sell really quickly. We had SO many showings early on. We were constantly told, “You’re priced to sell…The house is staged great…It shows great…There’s hardly any competition out there…It’s well maintained…You’ll sell quickly.” And yet here we are. Show me the money!

Last week, however, a little miracle did happen – or so I thought. On Tuesday afternoon there was a showing here. I prayed harder than I’ve prayed yet that those people be THE people that would want to buy our house. Then on Wednesday, I was driving out to our church (St. Joseph – see previous blog for all my current thoughts on St. Joe). I had to pick something up from the office and I thought, ‘Well, sure wouldn’t hurt to light a candle by St. Joe’s statue while I’m in there.’ I was contemplating these very things when I got a phone call from our realtors saying that the Tuesday visitors were VERY interested and would most likely be making us an offer. Now if you’ll recall, we had until Sunday to receive/negotiate/accept an offer in order to continue negotiations on the home that we wanted to buy. Perfect!

We heard on Thursday that the offer would be coming in Friday evening. So, we waited. Friday night there was a showing here, so we took the kiddos to the park, went to dinner and came home all giddy and hopeful. The phone rang. We were so excited to see that, again, it was our realtors…calling with the good news?! Yeah.

Actually, no. The potential clients changed their mind at the last minute. They decided to make an offer on a short sale instead of our home. And oh, while, we’re bummed out, “Unfortnately,” Kathy explained gently, “We’ve also heard from the listing agent [for the house on which we’d made an offer], and they’ve had another offer come in – it’s noncontigient, so most likely they’ll accept it.” Double whammy. We went from it all working out seamlessly, to none of it working out at all.

Kathy went on to say that while she knew I’d really liked that home and certainly loved aspects of it, she never really felt that I was head-over-heels in love and that it was necessarily “The One.” I know she was saying this to try to cheer me up, that we just haven’t found The One yet. I explained that I’ve been forcing myself to guard my heart. I don’t want to feel again the way I did about the Mountain House. I don’t want to see our children, our grandchildren playing in the yard until we’re signing the papers, THEN I’ll really let myself dream. But in the meantime, I did LOVE a lot about this last house. I’d mentally landscaped the yard. I’d gone for runs out the door and through the neighborhood. I’d decided where furniture would go. I’d let myself believe that it could possibly be The One. So, yes, I’m disappointed, but I do know enough now to realize that until it works out, until we’re unlocking the front door with our very own key, it’s not The One.

But I’m getting tired. I’m getting shop-worn, so to speak.

Our realtors held an open house here on Sunday hoping to drum up business. They were actually a little dubious about doing one explaining that very few open houses prove fruitful. Usually those that stop in are neighbors or curious lookiloo’s just driving by but not in the market for a home purchase at this time.

Again, Larry and Kathy came back with good news. They were floored with the amount of people here. At least 12 couples came tromping through our home and all of them seemed very positive. One of the groups here was an agent and his clients who now have visited us THREE TIMES. I say poop or get off the pot already! Make us an offer or stop visiting! Maybe third time’s the charm….??? But so far, yet again, all this good news and happy optimism has brought no results. No showings have been scheduled. No potential offers coming in.

Then, yesterday, I saw on line that our potential The One had, in fact, accepted their offer and the home is now “Pending” for other people. Not The One. Where are you, The One?! The wait is killing me. And where are the people meant to buy and live happily ever after in our home? I want this to be for them as much as I want another house to be for us!

Deep down in my gut, in my soul, all the way down to my toes I KNOW that it’ll all work out. I know that it hasn’t worked out yet because there’s something even better out there for us. I’m just ready for it to work out now! On MY TIME. I’m a toddler stamping my foot with my hands on my hips. Me, Me, Me. Mine, Mine, Mine. Kayliana’s recently embraced the art of toddler tantrum throwing, so I feel like I have a personal tutor. I’m sure she’s proud of her protege. I’ve gotten quite good.

We’ve made an offer on a house!! Their counter was kinda of like, “Um, yeeeah, we’ll pretend you didn’t just do that.” They didn’t drop their price by a penny and they dropped our contingency. We have until Sunday to respond. Which means that in order to continue playing ball with these people, we HAVE to receive, negotiate, and accept an offer on our house in the next four days. Impossible? Possibly. Likely? Sure! We dropped our price and we’re praying like crazy. Thinking, visualizing a good outcome. Basically doing everything besides weird sacrifice rituals. As Catholics, nay merely as people selling a home, we’ve also been asked plenty if we’re going to bury a statue of St. Joseph “upside down...12 inches underground…in the back yard…facing the house…” or some such specific silliness.

I’d heard about this tradition but have never researched it. This practice is a little bizarre – as many things that once had actual religious meaning but have since been turned into more of a superstitious one. There are “St. Joseph, my Real Estate Agent” kits; “St. Joseph Home Selling” kits. They even have ones called "EcoJoe." That's right, "He's a natural! Won't harm the Earth!" One resource says the practice began when European nuns buried medals of St. Joseph on land they hoped to aquire for a Convent. The practice has turned into a profitable market where even real estate agents purchase the little 4-inch plastic Joe’s in bulk to provide to their clients. There’s even a website where you can have St. Joseph help sell your house on-line. (i.e. It’s just another real estate marketing website).

Here’s what I make of this: some people need to DO something when they feel helpless. I get it. Trust me, my prayers during this process (as during the adoption process) have definitely been ramped up and a bit more, “Um, yeah, God, so can you please answer THIS specific request in THIS specific way…” Despite knowing that God’s will WILL be done whether it’s exactly what we want or not. Another way of saying this (less religious-y if you prefer) is, as we know, things aren’t always up to us. What happens, happens. I do believe that we have some control of our destiny (as in, think positive thoughts? Yes. “Ask and ye shall receive.” Totally! I mean it IS in the Bible, afterall. But we also must trust that God knows what’s best for us. And it’s not always what WE think is best for us).

I must say, however, that my friendship with good ‘ol St. Joe has definitely gotten tighter. He’s my bud. He’s my pal. He might be tired of hearing from me. We DO go to St. Joseph Church, so I feel like I should have a special ‘in.’ Now, to clarify, contrary to popular belief, Catholics do not PRAY to Saints. We ask the Saints to pray for US. People often ask friends and family to pray for them, right? So why not ask those who are REALLY close to the source of answers? As in, those awesome people who are chillin’ in Heaven with God. Makes sense to me.

I recently asked our priest, why, as we sell our home, it’s often suggested that we ask St. Joe for help. Why not just petition all the Saints? The more, the merrier, I say. I don’t need to play favorites, you can all pray for us! I understand that St. Joseph is a rockstar when it comes to home and family life. He did have kind of a big task: ‘By the way, Joseph, your son is actually the Savior. No pressure.’ But why just go to him? Well, obviously, we don’t have to and haven’t. But, as Father Todd put it, contacting St. Joe directly is like sending him a personal email rather than just putting a generic request on facebook or sending out a big forward email or tweeting your followers (not that I have any. I don’t tweet). But St. Joe may listen and pray for us more fervently if we ask directly and often. And I sure am sending him plenty of those direct prayer request mental- emails. Thankfully none have bounced back with an “Undelivered mail; return to sender” notice. He’s receiving ‘em!

The house is still for sale. A couple of nibbles but no big bites yet. Of course, it’s only been 12ish days, so it’s alright, but…it’d be awfully nice to sell soon! The most frustrating aspect of having to quickly vacate the premises for showings is the few times that we’ve ended up having no shows. We get the place all prettified, move on outta here only to find out that the ding-bats decided to not actually visit our home. VERY annoying. And yesterday I got a realtor’s call: “Yes, I know this is short notice, but we’re in your neighborhood. Can we come see your home right now?” I paused for a moment thinking about it and decided, sure! We can make that work.

“Can you just give us about 15 minutes to clear outta here?” I mean, my gosh, I do have three children. Any parent knows that on a good day it takes several minutes to get out the door. Plus, we’d just gotten back from the bus stop so were in the middle of afterschool snack. I didn’t think 15 minutes was asking too much. I probably could’ve done it in seven if need be, but wanted to give myself extra buffer.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s much too long. Nevermind. Maybe we’ll come another time and give you PLENTY of notice. It’s just that some people WORK and aren’t home during the middle of the afternoon, so it’s not a problem.”

Wow. Whatevs. I don’t want you meany-pantses buying our house anyway.

Anyway, more and more I see how this process is so very similar to the adoption process. People have judged me, people have mocked me when I’ve made this comparison, but it’s true. Obviously, buying a home is NOT identical to adopting a child, but still…the biggest similarity lately is how we have to get our hopes up but not TOO much but just ENOUGH. This is so reminiscent of being shown a birth mom’s or foster-to-adopt child’s profile. You have to let your heart feel it. You have to envision this little person in your family. You have to start to love them a little on the off chance that it is “the one.” We’ve had this with a couple of homes now, where we get excited and think, “Oh, this is totally the one; it’ll totally work.” I can totally picture us there, so I think it must be The One! But then either it doesn’t end up working out or (like currently) we have to just sit and wait and hope that no one else gets it before we can. (In this market, it’s better to wait until we have an offer on our home before we make an offer on another home. So we wait.)

It’s also so frustrating having no idea what the timing will be. I feel a bit restless, like a caged animal. I can’t plan making dinner since someone may call right when I’m in the middle of cooking or they’ll want to be here right at dinnertime. I can’t start packing the house since I have no idea when we’ll be moving, and I can’t make a huge ‘ol mess with crap ‘n boxes everywhere.

Another similarity: the physical response. Obviously I was pregnant with neither. I did not physically carry Kayliana in my womb. We ARE expecting a house, but it’s not – or shouldn’t be – causing pregnancy side effects. Yet it is (or it’s an excuse to). Cravings. I have been craving Cherry Coca Cola Slurpies. Like crazy. I dream about them. I NEED them. On a couple of nights these slurpies have even replaced my 5pm glass of wine. Thanks to this bizarre craving though, Mike and I might just have come up with our million dollar idea. I’ve heard of “Wine Floats” (like a Root Beer float but with wine. I’ve yet to try one). But we think there should be “Wice-ies” – wine icies. (We’re still working on the title). They’d be like a slurpie or snow cone with wine deliciousness inhabiting that ice crystal goodness. Sounds good to me!

The house is still for sale. A couple of nibbles but no big bites yet. Of course, it’s only been 12ish days, so it’s alright, but…it’d be awfully nice to sell soon! The most frustrating aspect of having to quickly vacate the premises for showings is the few times that we’ve ended up having no shows. We get the place all prettified, move on outta here only to find out that the ding-bats decided to not actually visit our home. VERY annoying. And yesterday I got a realtor’s call: “Yes, I know this is short notice, but we’re in your neighborhood. Can we come see your home right now?” I paused for a moment thinking about it and decided, sure! We can make that work.

“Can you just give us about 15 minutes to clear outta here?” I mean, my gosh, I do have three children. Any parent knows that on a good day it takes several minutes to get out the door. Plus, we’d just gotten back from the bus stop so were in the middle of afterschool snack. I didn’t think 15 minutes was asking too much. I probably could’ve done it in seven if need be, but wanted to give myself extra buffer.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s much too long. Nevermind. Maybe we’ll come another time and give you PLENTY of notice. It’s just that some people WORK and aren’t home during the middle of the afternoon, so it’s not a problem.”

Wow. Whatevs. I don’t want you meany-pantses buying our house anyway.

Anyway, more and more I see how this process is so very similar to the adoption process. People have judged me, people have mocked me when I’ve made this comparison, but it’s true. Obviously, buying a home is NOT identical to adopting a child, but still…the biggest similarity lately is how we have to get our hopes up but not TOO much but just ENOUGH. This is so reminiscent of being shown a birth mom’s or foster-to-adopt child’s profile. You have to let your heart feel it. You have to envision this little person in your family. You have to start to love them a little on the off chance that it is “the one.” We’ve had this with a couple of homes now, where we get excited and think, “Oh, this is totally the one; it’ll totally work.” I can totally picture us there, so I think it must be The One! But then either it doesn’t end up working out or (like currently) we have to just sit and wait and hope that no one else gets it before we can. (In this market, it’s better to wait until we have an offer on our home before we make an offer on another home. So we wait.)

It’s also so frustrating having no idea what the timing will be. I feel a bit restless, like a caged animal. I can’t plan making dinner since someone may call right when I’m in the middle of cooking or they’ll want to be here right at dinnertime. I can’t start packing the house since I have no idea when we’ll be moving, and I can’t make a huge ‘ol mess with crap ‘n boxes everywhere.

Another similarity: the physical response. Obviously I was pregnant with neither. I did not physically carry Kayliana in my womb. We ARE expecting a house, but it’s not – or shouldn’t be – causing pregnancy side effects. Yet it is (or it’s an excuse to). Cravings. I have been craving Cherry Coca Cola Slurpies. Like crazy. I dream about them. I NEED them. On a couple of nights these slurpies have even replaced my 5pm glass of wine. Thanks to this bizarre craving though, Mike and I might just have come up with our million dollar idea. I’ve heard of “Wine Floats” (like a Root Beer float but with wine. I’ve yet to try one). But we think there should be “Wice-ies” – wine icies. (We’re still working on the title). They’d be like a slurpie or snow cone with wine deliciousness inhabiting that ice crystal goodness. Sounds good to me!

First of all, I’m pleased to report that my bloggy-document surpassed quite a milestone recently. I’m now well over 400 pages single spaced which means that in almost six years I’ve written an 800-plus page novel about myself…that strikes me as crazy and a bit, uh, I dunno, slightly self-absorbed perhaps. Ya think?

Around this time of year -- just before my tulips are up -- I start reminiscing about how it all began. Checking into a hospital bed on March 15th and not getting out of it for seven weeks was quite the adventure. (And I nearly missed the tulips, in fact). I am very thankful that Mike suggested I start the blog to keep family and friends posted on my status...I had to do SOMETHING with that time. And I appreciate that people continued reading despite the fact that many early on postings consisted of my updated cervix measurements. Thankfully, life's changed since then and I have no cervical news to report. Phew!

Anyway, moving on to our LATEST adventure: our house was, as of Friday, officially for sale/on the market. I’m so pumped to report that we’ve already had 6 showings come in and another already scheduled for tomorrow! Today I experienced the epitome of having your house for sale: I was getting some laundry-folded (clothes all over the place) while Kayli sat in the high chair covered in food and crumbs when I got a realtor’s phone call. “Could we come in 25 minutes?” Obviously, I could’ve said no or asked for a little more time, but I told myself that unless it’s seriously detrimental to our family in some way, I want to say yes to every opportunity for someone to see our house. I ran around like a headless chicken for about 10 minutes, when I detected a weird odor. Kayliana had made herself one heck of a dirty diaper, but I wasn’t about to change it in the house…I had to put her in the car seat while I finished up inside and then changed her in the car before finally exiting the garage – with minutes to spare, I might add.

(On the other side of the equation, by the way, we have yet to find a house for US to buy and move to. Fingers crossed that this all works out or I might hold a lottery of my blog readers and the lucky winner will get to house our family of five until further notice).

Since there was a showing shortly after that one, we picked Zach up from the bus stop and headed to Burger King for lunch and to play/kill time.

In the car Zach groaned all of a sudden, “Ahhhh, man!! I forgot!”

“What did you forget?” I asked.

“I forgot to ask Allison something really important today.” (Allison is a girl in his class. Zachary has recently dropped the bomb on us that he’s “in love with her.” This is a HUGE problem as you’ll recall Zach is already betrothed to our best friends’ daughter, Veronica. We’re working through it and hoping it’s just a phase that he needs to get out of his system. He’s such a little Casanova.)

“What did you forget to ask her?” I inquired.

“I forgot to ask her what she wants to be when she grows up. I think maybe she wants to be a doctor but that’s a problem ‘cuz if I’m going to be a secret agent/ninja but also have kids then she’s going to need to not work so that I can go do my spy stuff.”

Right.

We got to see the professional photographer’s pictures of our home yesterday. Pretty shnazzy, if I do say so meself. He even added gorgeous blue sky (despite it actually being a dark, dreary, rainy day), cozy fires in the fireplaces (despite the fact that in our 9 years of living here, we’ve never once had a fire in them), and he added a Seattle skyline ‘movie’ to the TV screen! We saw the flyer for our house – the realtors did an AWESOME job! And we’ll be listed early tomorrow morning. Basically, “we’re live and it’s show time, people!” Showings could start tomorrow. So, I decided since exiting our home with three kids is always a time-consuming affair and we’re usually leaving the place in a slight state of mess and general chaos, we should have a couple of dress rehearsals seeing as starting tomorrow, the house needs to be spotless EVERY time we depart. Wow. Crazy.

I figured it would take us three hours to get out the door. All counters need to be wiped, window blinds opened, drawers/closets/cupboards closed, toys put away, pretty props out, beds made, baby gate removed (so that they can actually get in since the whole toddler-lock system seems to stump most people), sinks cleaned, mirrors, floors, etc. etc. etc. We managed to make it out the door in about 30 minutes without any major tears, screaming or loss of limbs. I was proud. I was impressed. Then we got home and discovered that Zachary had left a pair of his underwear on the middle of their bedroom floor. Nice touch. I’m sure the stager would approve. That’s why they call it a ‘dress rehearsal,’ I suppose. And lesson learned: get the kids in the car and do one final sweep before we actually leave.

A week ago was Valentine’s Day. Cupid brought me a nasty-asty cold. It was terrible and I’m still fighting it, but somehow, God gave me/us the extra drive and energy to still work our hynees off and get the house ready for listing this week. And yet, I can’t begin to tell you how tired I am. SOOOoooo exhausted. But, we’ve done it. Here we are! The big day.

This morning, the photographer arrived for the photo shoot. Basically, today was like our precious home’s wedding day and I stood around grinning like a doofus proud mama. Seriously, it was like a wedding day in that our home will never have so many photos taken of it; it doesn’t actually look like this on a daily basis, and it will likely never look this way again. Obviously, the photographer will take way better photos (and his didn’t have the tv on, the random children props in view, etc.), but here are some of mine. Of course, just like on many wedding days, the weather was unpredictable and not pleasant. He’ll doctor up the photos just enough to brighten things up, but he did say he didn’t have to touch up anything else as our home looked “fantastic.” Yup, proud mama.

It’s the eleventh hour. It’s go time! We’re in the home stretch. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s mile 24…and all those other analogies. Our deadline is looming. A week from Tuesday, the house needs to be ready to go, clutter-free, prettified and staged for the photo shoot at 9am. A couple of days after that, our house – our home sweet home of nine crazy-amazing years – will officially be “on the market.” That gives us 8 days to pull this place together. It’s kinda ca-razy how much we’ve done. It’s kinda way ca-razy how much is left to do. And, of course, I’m coming down with a cold (wah-wah). Oh, what, could I maybe be a little run down or something? Just a little. And, of course, patience is running thin (or nonexistent). So, of course, the kids respond to this in their own way (being extra trying and difficult.) And, of course, Mike has a huge deadline for work in the next couple of weeks, so he’s way stressed about that (‘cuz there’s nothing out of the ordinary going on at home or anything. No extra stress here). Big ‘ol boo-hoo, wah-wah, moving is HARD broo-ha-ha pity party’s a-goin’ on all up in here.

Basically, the poop’s hit the fan under this here roof and it ain’t ‘purty’.

And just when I think, I might actually completely lose it, throw my hands up in defeat and check myself into someplace where I can get the physical and mental break that I need…this picture (by sweet Matthew) is quietly left on the counter, unbeknownst to me, where I find it a few minutes later. Then all is good in the world. (For a few minutes, anyway, before it’s time to go paint something or pack something). But, this picture and all that it represents, is there for me when I need a break from the insanity!

When it comes to getting our house ready to sell, I am either way hardcore and motivated…or stupid. (For example, last night, I touched up paint on the boys’ closet door. They were asleep in bed. I was painting in the dark. Stupid? Yeah, possibly. Productive? You betchya!)

Thankfully, once the decision was made to KEEP our existing carpet and get it professionally cleaned (woohoo!), I was able to really focus on all the other work that needed to get done around here. My parents were kind enough to take the kids for an overnight this weekend, so Mike and I worked from morning until WAY early the next morning. We worked our butts off. Mike spent most of his time powerwashing the house outside; we cleaned out the garage and the kids’ yard toys and took a huge load to the dump. He also bleached and grouted the bathtub. My focus was primarily inside, namely the hallway, kitchen and dining room, all of which got two coats of paint this weekend. The only room left to paint here is the laundry room. I’ve touched up paint in every single room in this house and here’s what I’ve learned: if you’re really paying attention to the dings, the chips, the gouges in the walls, you could literally touch up paint every single week. Possibly every single day (if you’ve got kids like ours, apparently). I jest not: yesterday, I discovered a small chunk of paint missing on the wall in the family room that was not there earlier this week. I swear! And how did it get there?! It’s actually up fairly high on the wall.

Obviously, I wouldn’t mind having less prep work to do for selling the house and I do hope to try to keep our next a house slightly in better shape, but I have to be honest, every single little bit of touch up work that I’ve had to do has made me sorta happy. A couple people have asked me, “Now, that you’ll have the house looking so nice, I bet you won’t want to leave?” My answer is actually, “Mmmm, no. I’ll be heartbroken, but ready.” See, I don’t think I could stay in a place without blemish – and really, we’ll add more everyday. To me, as I scrub random marks and scuffs off the walls, when I cover up spots where the paint has been gouged out, I’m covering up memories. I don’t know what each mark is, obviously, but they all represent our life here to a certain extent. We were too busy playing, running, laughing, crying, LIVING to bother wandering around everyday with a scrub and paint brush. I encourage you to inspect your walls. You’ll be amazed at all the little imperfections that lurk there possibly telling some untold or long forgotten story. (Although, you may also be inspired to do a little wall maintenance while you’re at it. Sorry).

As we get closer to listing the house for sale (we’re now, looking at Presidents’ week), I find myself feeling more and more conflicted. As I pack up the kids’ things, especially, a lump forms in my throat. This past weekend, I was collecting the stepping stones that I had each kiddo make for Mike for Father’s Day through the years. The first one is from 2006. It has Matthew’s almost-three-year-old handprint and Zachary’s three-MONTH-old handprint. The next one is from 2007 and features the boys’ feet. Then, time speaks for itself…we were too busy playing, living, doing OTHER stuff, and the next stepping stone dates 2011. Sea glass that we collected from a beach in Port Townsend with my parents borders Kayliana’s initials and her foot and hand print. Obviously, we’re bringing these stepping stones with us, but there was just something about pulling them out of the ground of this property that’s held so many firsts, so many memories, that just broke my heart a little too. I know that this move is a good decision, I know that we will do LOTS of living and memory forming (and wall-banging-up) in the next house, but there’s just something about your FIRST home, that’s a little hard to let go of.

This picture says it all: Matthew learning how to ride his bike sans training wheels (April, 2010), my pretty, pretty flowers (nearly all of which I planted) and Zachary climbing my favorite tree – our Japanese Maple – like a little monkey in the background.

Work is well underway! Bathrooms – pretty much painted and completed. Master bedroom – painted. More packing – done. Stairwell railing – painted. Hallway walls – patched and ready to be painted. I’m on fire! (Except that I’m totally putting off the biggest project: painting the hallway which connects to part of the kitchen which in turn also means painting part of the dining room. Totally procrastinating on that one.) I also need to prime and paint one dark royal blue wall in the boys’ room, and I’ll be painting the entire laundry room. The other bigger-ish inside project is the bathtub – bleaching it and regrouting/touching up grout in it. Isn’t this just SO exciting to read about? It’s a little crazy how all-consuming getting your house ready to sell is.

I’m pretty sure I’ve said the word “carpet” more in the last five days than in my entire life before this. The debate was whether or not we need to replace the old nasty thing. Yes, the house could use new carpet. We’ve once been told (by my mother-dear) and I quote, “You could boil this carpet and make soup!” Paints a pretty picture doesn’t it? I know that we need new carpet, I know that replacing the carpet before we sell could make us sell faster, could get us more money, could really be the best way to go….BUT…The thought of moving out all of our furniture, having a hard deadline for getting the painting done, having to disassemble the boys’ loft beds, it just kind of left a huge pit in my stomach and I couldn’t shake that “gut feeling.” In the end, after a lot of research and discussion (between Mike and I and with many other knowledgable peoples,) we’ve decided to go against our realtors’ suggestion and NOT replace the carpet, and I can’t tell you how happy it makes me. Yes, when we’re on the market for possibly extra time, I may be a little frustrated with the ‘having to keep the house perfectly clean and show ready at all times’ thing, but I can guarantee you that I won’t, for a second regret not pulling our house apart to get new carpet first! Phew! I feel like the rest of the house work is very daunting, but do-able and we’ll manage, whereas the carpet situation could’ve really pushed me over the edge! Scary house Jenny is never a good thing!