A Post That Is Not Me Being A Drama Queen: With Pictures

Ok I get it.  I'm boring.  And whiny.  So I'll reward you for sticking with me.  With pictures. 

Michael's camp had cooking week last week.  Complete with a chef hat. 

And as someone not so politely reminded me yesterday, I do in fact have a roof over my head.  And many do not.  I have a beautiful family and my health, for the most part.  Things can always be worse. 

Like yesterday, when I thought Michael broke my iPhone.  Stay tuned for the whining on that one.

I Am Not Good At Subterfuge

I also have the worst luck ever.

On Friday we accepted another offer on the house.  And immediately found another house to place an offer on.  But I was keeping quiet about it.  I was not saying anything about it until settlement.  I learned my lesson.  The three month pregnancy rule should apply to houses.    And I was composing the whole guess what I did today blog post in my head.  I was going to suddenly announce I sold my house and bought another.

HA!  And that is the universe spitting in my face.  Happiness?  Take that Jodi!  Your house is the black pit of despair and you will live in it for the rest of your life.  Better get used to it.

Our buyers walked.  AGAIN.  At least this time they were honest about it and not assholes.  They didn't hold a bullshit home inspection and make us fix a bunch of crap.  They just simply told us they decided to rent for another year.  Lovely.  Good for you.  Except you are throwing away money and that is actually a stupid financial decision but I don't care because I STILL LIVE HERE.

So no, I will not be posting a Surprise! I settled on my house and bought another house post.  At least not any time soon.

The champagne is still sitting there.  Mocking me.  It's ok, I know it's ok.  I know no one is dead and it is not like we HAVE to move, we just want to move.  So many worse things have happened this year.  I know there is another house and it going to be ok.  I know that.  I know it is not the end of the world.

Except it feels like it is.  It feels like this house will never, ever sell.  Like this was the worst, stupidest idea ever.  Like the Under Contract sign on the house across the street which is a smaller, crappier model of my house is reminding me that I did something wrong in a previous life.  Or perhaps I'm being punished for something I did in this life. 

Or perhaps, there is no fate, there is no G-d (which I have suspected for years) and this is just life.  Sometimes you get what you want.  And sometimes you don't.  And this is one of those times when you don't.

So feel free to tell me it is going to be ok.  That the house is going to sell and we will find another house.  But right now I'm just not sure if I can believe you.

Also, I'm sick to death of Random Houseness label.  People are unfollowing me left and right on twitter and you know what, I don't blame you.  I'd unfollow me too.  I'm doom and gloom and not even a little bit fun.  I feel bad for my kid who told me he never wanted to look at another house again.

I'm just terrified his wish is going to come true.

Shoe Friday #36

Rain Flats from another one of my twitter friends, who I only know as Tutugirl.  I love when twitter friends send in shoes.

In Which I Admit To The Internet I'm A Moron

When people tell me I'm smart, my standard answer is I'm not really, I just work hard.  Yes I went to law school and passed the bar and blah, blah, blah, but I'm actually a moron.  I just cover it well.  Sometimes.  Sometimes I barely cover it all. 

Standard examples:

On Monday we had the windows washed.  I had to leave before they were finished to pick up Michael from school.  When we got home I noticed there was a window screen left in the basement.  I ran up and down three flights of stairs a couple of times looking for the window they had forgotten to put the screen back in.  I never found it.  All of the windows had screens.

Before I called the window company and complained, I called Doug.  I told him there was a window that was missing a screen and I just couldn't figure out which one it was.  He informed me we have had an extra window screen in the basement for as long as we had lived in the house.  He did not laugh at me.  We have been together 10 years.  He is used to this.

But hey, I have been complaining about not having time to go to the gym lately and I ran up and down 3 flights of stairs 4 times so that's something.

Last night we were putting the basement back together after some work we had done and I noticed that the shelves in our basement storage closet were not built into the wall.  They are some crazy rigged system with wood and cinder block.  I asked Doug if we did this or if we inherited it.  He looked at me and said "8 years.  We have lived here 8 years.  You are just noticing this?"

I may not be a moron, but I'm clearly not very observant.

In Which I Compare Selling My House To Lint Rollers

This whole house shopping this has taught me a lot about myself.  I like old houses.  That surprised me because I tend to be a modern girl.  I can handle medical stress, but buckle when my house falls out of escrow.  I literally haven't slept in a month.

You know when people ask you, if there was one job you would never want, what is it?  Well, I learned what mine is.  General contractor.  I have spent the past week coordinating people in and out of this house.  Window washers, cleaning people, basement contractors, stove fixers, gutter cleaners, etc, etc, etc.  I'm exhausted from the sheer effort of it.  From coordinating this 8 to noon window with this 4 to 7 window.  With sitting around and skipping the gym and calling them back when they DO THE JOB WRONG.  Like securing the gutter to house, exactly how hard is that?

We have spent more money than we ever dreamed to just SELL THIS STUPID HOUSE.  And that is before a home inspection with people who actually PLAN TO BUY IT.

Oh, and have we found anything else we want to buy?  Like that last house?  No.  Nothing.  So I'm selling my house in order to be homeless.

Years ago I bought a pack of lint rollers at Costco.  We never used them and they sat on my dresser until we de cluttered the house and I threw them out.  I used to say the lint rollers were my worst idea ever.  I'm now reconsidering.  Selling this house was my worst idea ever.

Don't get me wrong.  I still want to move.  I still hate this house and believe we can find something better.  I just wish I knew how awful it was going to be when we started.

Overcoming Fear

Yesterday Michael attended his first swim class without parental support.  It is called pre-beginner 1 and it is designed for children with "basic water skills."  I knew we were pushing Michael a little bit by enrolling him in this class.  He was at the young age range for the class, and he is terrified of the water.  But we had hit a wall at the preschool swim class.  He refused to participate.  And one thing I have learned with Michael, if you take a parent out of the equation, he does much better.  He is stubborn for me.  He behaves for other people.

We had been preparing him for this by doing some one on one swim lessons with a fabulous instructor, who had incredible patience with him.  She helped him hold onto the barbell and kick and even put his head under the water.  But this was not the instructor for this class and there were 5 other kids in the class.  All who were about a year older and noticeably less terrified.

The class begins with a lecture about how if your kid was not ready they would ask you to withdrawal.  One class.  They give 4 year olds one chance to perform.  I was giving this 80/20 odds and it was not in favor of going well.

When we left Michael at the pool and explained we were just going to be watching right upstairs, it was clear he was barely holding it together.  He followed the teacher and the other kids into the water, but adamantly refused to leave the wall on the side of the pool.  The teacher asked him to grab a hold of the barbell and kick out to her and he refused to leave the wall.

She moved on to the other kids and came back to him and he did it.  A little shaky, not perfect, but he did it.  And when he turned out and looked up at us with a huge grin on his face and a big thumbs up, we gave him a thumbs up back.  His pride in himself was apparent.

And that was the whole class.  He would refuse to do something, the rest of the kids would go, he would go last, and do fine.  And he always ended with a big thumbs up towards us.  And he was so proud of himself.

And the last exercise, floating on his back, he actually raised his hand to go first.  And he did.

When we went to get him from the pool he was beaming.  And he said to me, "Mommy, you should try things.  Sometimes you like them."  And I said, "Michael, it is ok to be scared.  But the important thing is that you did it anyway."

And that is a lesson I need to remember sometimes myself.

Shoe Friday #35

3 Pair, courtesy of Laura, another twitter friend.  She doesn't blog, but you can follow her on twitter.

The commentary is hers as well.

Angels - I love my flame shoes.  They have the following on the bottom "Resists alkali, water, acid, fatigue and Satan." with of course details of angels as well.  I should really get a shot of the bottom.

Darjeelings - Very comfy and I finally have a pair of pointy toed shoes (Stacy and Clinton would be proud).

Mini Bips - because really, how can you not smile while wearing these!!!

Michael Learns The Valuable Life Lesson That You Can Never Trust A Pirate

Yesterday Michael started his first day at camp.  Which will morph into school.  I'm not sure he gets that yet, but for now, he knows he is going to camp.

When we pulled into the parking lot he was all upset because the new school didn't have a playground.  They do, but it is around the backside of the building, and no matter how many times I told him, he didn't believe me.  So, even though it was raining when I dropped him off, I took him to see the playground.

"Hmph" was the response I got.

When I picked him up he was all smiles about his new school/camp.  He asked if he could go tomorrow and "every day."  I of course said yes.  "But they didn't let me go outside Mommy." 

"Michael, it is because it was raining."

"Will they let me go outside tomorrow?"

"Maybe, it depends on the weather."

"I bet the never let me go outside again."

I ignored that one and took him straight to an event for my work which involved a pirate magician for the children.  Michael thought that was the coolest thing ever.  Except the pirate magician promised "toys and candy" and what he gave out was a "magic wishing ring" and some gold coins.  And lollipops. 

"Mommy the pirate promised toys.  Where are the toys?"

"Michael those are toys."

"No they aren't."

"Yes they are."

"I don't even have any toys."

"Michael you have millions of toys."

"I wish for candy all the time," he said, holding his ring.  "See this ring doesn't even work.  The pirate lied."

"Michael, the pirate promised you toys and candy and you got toys and candy.  I have no idea why you are so upset."

"This happens all the time."

"When exactly was the last time a pirate broke a promise to you?"

Which was met by the loudest sigh you have ever heard in your life.

May I remind you this child is four.  And he is already a better litigator than I am. 

I sense I am in trouble.

It Is Like Hell, But Louder

I have spent the past two days holed up in my house with workmen "fixing" the house, getting ready to go back on the market.  The quotes are because whether these things needed to be fixed are open to interpretation and everything to do with what happened last time.  This is something I will write about, I promise, but only when I can do so from more of a neutral place.  Or maybe when I will not be walking myself into a defamation lawsuit by calling their agent a liar and incompetent and the buyers sneaky.  And liars. 

I was supposed to be off of work the past two days because it was in between school and camp for Michael, so it was not that big of an inconvenience.  But, I imagined the days to be spent a little more fun than me yelling at Michael to stop bugging the workmen and man is drilling into your basement ever loud.  And, did you know if you do not care about the work being performed the workmen will be early?  Like by a day and hours?  Yes, it is true.

Also, the amount of work being done in your house + the amount of people in your house = 800 gazillion hours of television watched by your preschooler.  It is true.  I counted.  But he starts camp today and what will be his new school.  I don't think he has any idea.  I have been too busy to discuss it.  Parent of the year am I. 

I used to have principles.  But this process has robbed me of them.  The amount of money I will spend to get someone to buy this house is astronomical.  I no longer care.  The fact that it is cutting into the amount of money I can spend on a new house no longer affects me.  It has become a game of chicken.  What, you want me to buy all new appliances even though these appliances are only 5 years old?  Fine, here is 100 grand.  All new paint and I just painted last year?  Fine.  Whatever  Just get me the hell out of here.

A Star Is Born

The finale of Michael's theater class ended in a performance put on by 4 year olds of various Mother Goose tales.  It was as funny as it sounds.  And they had lines.  Michael played a king.  Just what he needed.  As if this kid doesn't already think he is the king of the world.



 



Ah, my little ham.  I hope he is practicing his Academy Award speech.  (I'm kidding.  I hate stage parents.)