So

So... It's December.

Suddenly I have a five year old, which is just...wow.  I mean, it's probably time to start breaking out the Boniva and make an appointment for Botox because I'm OLD now. I have had a serious conversation with a medical professional about my child's "stool". There's no coming back from that, no, "Oh, where's that kegger at tonight?" in my future. Not that I want there to be, just...you know, noting.

Um, I digress.

December!  And it's the end of an era for us (and hopefully not also the end of the world, because that would be a bummer).  We are finally saying goodbye to the money pit.  I know, bittersweet, right? No.  Pretty much just sweet.  T- minus twelve days until the move and I can barely sleep I'm so excited.  Homeownership is not all it's cracked up to be, people.  Especially ancient home-ownership.  For the near future, this girl's American dream involves a magic phone number to call when anything needs maintenance and a landscaping budget the size of a windowsill.

So that's what's new.  Packing and cleaning and organizing and sorting. It's like Christmas came early!

If I don't answer the door, assume that I am off shopping for ugly lawn ornaments

Four weeks until freedom.

In just four short weeks our contract with the latest realtor is up.  She has been such a great realtor, but we need a break from the insanity.

I'm positive this is the right decision for now, because I'm already fantasizing about coming home to a house without one of those stupid key holder boxes on the door.  It's been so long that I have forgotten what our doorknob looks like.

It's crazy the things that you can adjust to when a process that is meant to take a couple of months ends up dragging on for years.  Nothing surprises me about the homebuyer anymore. It doesn't phase me when I see people trying to peek into my windows. I'm no longer taken aback when someone knocks on the door at eight in the morning wanting to know the price. And when Sean is out doing yardwork on the weekend and someone begs to come through the house?  I actually survey the mess and contemplate, instead of being appalled. I'm not exaggerating. This has all happened.  More than once.

A couple of weeks ago, I came home to find a large van blocking my driveway.  With my arms full of groceries, I casually went inside and set them down before confronting the strange woman on my deck.  She had "just come by to check out the property" which she mistakenly had assumed was "vacant" which surprised me, considering Kelan's bike was parked on the front walk.
But these days, my head is in a house sans a For Sale sign in the front yard. I'm almost feeling a little rebellious. The freedom will bring seemingly endless possibilities! I can stop being hyperaware of the superficial negatives of the house. Hell, in a month, if I want to, I can put a bed in the livingroom! I can plaster the rooms with personal pictures, paint a room neon pink, or even take a shower without being unduly afraid that the call center has gotten the time wrong or forgotten to confirm a showing and someone might walk in at any moment.*

This zombie lawn art?  Is now officially an option. I bet you take that for granted, comfortable home owner.

I am excitedly awaiting that large sigh of relief that I can breathe on August 1st. 


*The various call centers have yet to mess up, but it doesn't stop me from showering with lightening speed on days with showings...

Boom, smited!

Photographic proof that GOD will smite you if you aren't nice to me...

I am still amused by a conversation I had with my sister ten minutes before we were hit with a huge storm that had trees down on every block in my neighborhood:

Sarah: Is it supposed to rain today?

Me: I'm not sure, the icon on my iPod shows some clouds and a lightening bolt, but usually when I click on it, there is only like a 10% chance of rain, so... who knows.

Sarah: Hmmm

Ten minutes after I hung up the phone, the tornado sirens were going off. I was baffled, but the sky had turned a blackish color all of the sudden. The power went out before I could get any actual weather info and suddenly realized how much I depend on the radar pictures, because I started yearning for just a couple minutes of that super arrogant weatherman who gets off on pointing at pictures of green and red blobs and manically shouts about "rotation" and "wall clouds."

I was sitting in the dark basement wondering how serious the threat of a tornado was and being all bitter that the internet was down when I remembered a conversation that Sean and I had at a hardware store once. I sort of remember Sean pointing down an aisle and saying that we should have some "weather preparedness kit" with a radio and stuff like that, but all I could see when I looked at him was an old man blabbering about needing more cardigans and another charger for his Hoveround so I freaked out and may have told him that weather radios were for pansies.

Next I heard a crash upstairs, and decided that it was either a tree falling on my house or the cats messing around upstairs and shrugged, jamming my earphones in my ears and turning on my latest audiobook-- sort of like how I turn the radio up in my car to drown out all of the weird noises it makes when it's about to die.

Thankfully, there was no major damage. As it turns out, the top of one of the huge trees in our yard had broken off and fallen between our yard and our neighbors (who coincidentally NEVER say hi to me), bringing down a power line and smashing some of their brand new fancy landscaping. The first thing that Sean said when I told him a tree was down was, "Please tell me it fell on your car, did it fall on your car?"

The next two days were a blur of realizing how underrated electricity is, and then being soooo grateful that "an act of GOD" prevented us for having to pay for any damage.

And I guess all that's left to say is, you've been warned...

Preview of my book- Part one, and by the way, is crackhead one word or two?

So I was chatting with another mom at daycare the other day and the topic of house sales came up.

"Did I hear you say you were selling your house?" she asked.

To which I giggled.

"Yeah, for awhile now." I replied

"So are you willing to offer up any tips? My husband and I are looking to downsize." she responded.

I don't remember exactly what I said back, but I do remember laughing out loud, I think I said something along the lines of, "Um, my house has been on the market for three years with no offer in sight... so trust me, you don't want any advice I have to give."

Cut to later that day.

I'm getting ready for a last minute showing by cramming a dirty pan (that had been "soaking") in the oven to hide. Suddenly it dawned on me. I have a ton of advice for this woman! I'm practically an expert on living in a house that's for sale! I should write a book! And use the sales to pay off this house! And move! It wouldn't exactly solve the problem of selling this house, but at least I'd have a place to go when the boys are driving me insane.

So I'm thinking of publishing. The title would be, "What to Expect when you are Expecting to Sell Your Overpriced, 100 Year old House in a Crappy Market". Okay, the title is still in revision.

The book will be short. Probably only two chapters long really. Here is a sneak peek:

Chapter one

Silly you! Don't expect to sell. In fact, drop all of your expectations, problem solved.

Chapter two

If you are still reading, here is a list of tips from a master (me of course)

Picking a Realtor

If you made the mistake of picking a realtor based on something silly like reputation, or even sillier like research, or number of houses they have sold in the past, it's okay. Everyone makes mistakes.

What you want to do, is pick a realtor based on their "signage" - which is a fancy realtor word for crap that sits in your yard. You'll want to make sure that it's attractive. Perhaps even request that they photoshop the picture of them, or ask them to plant some sort of climbing plant at the base. Trust me, this is the most important aspect of picking a realtor, because at the end of the day, that shit's going to sit in your lawn for the next couple years...you might as well not have it be an eyesore.

Navigating annoying questions

Oh, were you not expecting your neighbors, friends, family, and strangers walking by to ask how the sale is going? Daily? It'll mostly be neighbors, and it will seem condescending, because they will laugh when they ask, "How's the sale going, any buyers yet?" or "Why would you want to get rid of such a quaint little house?" Okay this last one might not apply to you. But do be aware that the question they are really asking is, "Why are you selling, did you lose your job? Is it going into foreclosure any day now?"

Also, do expect the entire neighborhood to panic when they see you moving anything larger than a grocery bag in or out of your house. They will all make excuses to casually stroll by your house while you are doing so...like walking their cat, or returning that screwdriver that they swear they borrowed. "Are you moving? Did you sell?" they will ask. You know that they are capable of seeing that there is not "sold" sign, so deduce that the question they are really asking is, "Are you abandoning your property??? WILL THERE BE SQUATTERS??"

Relax. These questions will only be annoying for the first couple of years. Then you will be indifferent. You will want to tactfully maneuver these questions and calmly reassure everyone that everything will be okay. After all, it is your job as a good citizen to make sure the elderly in your neighborhood don't all die of heart attacks.

Or is it? Perhaps you take a different tactic? Call them out right away! Answer their questions in a way that will make them run away and never ask again! Say Mr. Jones panics and strolls by when you are moving something into your car to donate to Goodwill. When he asks you if you sold the house, just calmly and seriously say, "No, no we didn't unfortunately. We are getting desperate. I think our only option is to move out in the middle of the night and leave the key in the door. I'm just so sad that this is happening. I hate to think of all the crackheads that will settle in, but you know, this is happening all over town, there is simply nothing we can do." And then walk away. Feel accomplished.


Stay tuned for part two......

Don't call it a comeback

Alright people, time for round two. I'm psyched! I can't wait to have to clean the house meticulously, vacate at a moments notice, and take all sorts of negative criticism on my home!!! It is SUPERFANTASTIC!


I'm a little jaded. We've been trying to unload this money pit sell our beautiful house off and on since January of 2008. Turns out, someone really lucked out when they found Sean and I... we were just the right kind of crazy to believe in the "charm" of the place.


Actually, I really do love this house, and if I had a ton of money, I'd maybe remodel the crap out of it to make it more practical, but I don't, and that's just the problem- it would take a LOT of money.


As it turns out, everything that made Sean and I fall in love with the house to begin with is making us want to get rid of it, and also keeping other people from wanting to buy it.


Let's see,


That beautiful wooded ravine in our backyard? Gorgeous to look at, death-trapish for a young child.


Those lovely old windows full of character? A heating nightmare.


That quaint wood burning fireplace in the living room? Lets so much smoke in the house that Kelan has a major asthma attack whenever we even think about starting a fire.


This adorable established neighborhood that is so full of character and has a big city feel? Apparently most Wisconsinites need garages these days. Babies.

So are we putting our house on the market this week? Yeah.

Do I have a lot of hope that it will sell soon? Umm... not so much.

It's okay though, I really do love this house. Just not enough to want to live in it anymore.