Paint

I spent the day dressed in my ugliest clothes and my old running shoes. During naps and after kids were in bed for the night, I painted Lexi's bedroom. The moulding got two fresh coats of bright white paint. The walls turned from yellow to pink. My paint clothes gathered new spatter.

When I paint, I like to be alone with my thoughts. Today as I brushed and rolled, I pondered the irony of investing time, money, and effort in a home I thought we were leaving. Are we really spending part of the money earmarked for our move to re-carpet this house? It seems a little crazy, but then the last 8 months have been crazy, so why not continue the trend?

Some days I am completely content with being here in Colorado Springs. I love my life here. I love the people here. I sense purpose in staying here. But the last few days, as I have had a few reminders of what I thought life would be like right now, I have questioned why our journey has been such a meandering one. I really have no idea where we are going next.

Will we always be here? Will circumstances ever prompt us to step forward with moving plans again? Am I destined to raise my kids away from family and other dear ones? And what was the last year about, anyway? I'd sure love to know. I'm not a girl who ever reads the last page of a book ahead of time, but I'd really like a peek at my future life to see what is coming sometimes. Mostly I just want an answer to the "why" of it all. Of course I'm aware I won't likely get that until the next life!

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not unhappy. I'm just trying (again) to find my place in the world. Today my place was in a small room with a can of paint. Tomorrow's plan: rinse and repeat. If only all of life were so predictable.

This day in my life

For the last few years I have documented a summer day in my life. Usually I premeditate this activity and take tons of pictures and copious notes.

At this end of this day I think a record is essential. I have a few photos to throw in, as well. This will count as my annual "day in the life" effort.

6:30 a.m. Gavin wakes me up. "Mom! When are we going to Arizona?" Groggily, I mumble, "Honey, I don't know." Gavin is frustrated with my response. "I don't want to go to 'idontknow.' I want to go to Arizona!"

6:45 a.m. I can't ignore the four children who are awake any longer. I get up and nurse Lexi. I have a migraine for the fourth day in a row.

6:55 a.m. I fold four loads of laundry. Putting the clothes away is Zach's job.

7:15 a.m. Kids get out cereal paraphernalia and begin to eat. I call the pediatrician to make an appointment for Zach, who has a painful, marble-sized lump near his Adam's apple. I'm trying not to get worked up about the possible explanations. The peds office doesn't take calls until 7:30.

7:31 a.m. I get through to ABC pediatrics. There's an appointment at 8:00. I take it, tell Zach to get ready, get Garry out of bed, then jump in the shower.

7:50 a.m. Hair and makeup done (thank you very much), family prayer said, I get in the van with Zach. Garry stays behind with the three youngest kids. He doesn't usually get to work until 8:30 or 9:00 anyway. I'm very grateful for the work/life balance Garry's boss allows.

8:00 a.m. We check in and see the nurse, then wait in the exam room for 45 minutes. Zachary bounces off the walls (quite literally) and drives me crazy. I read a pamphlet about ADHD, even though I know Zach is just obnoxious and not clinically hyperactive.


Zach took this cell phone photo upside down on purpose.

8:50 a.m. Dr. Kim spends five minutes examining Zach. He diagnoses Zach's lump as an infected lymph node. He asks about Zach's allergies. I tell him Zach doesn't have allergies. Dr. Kim begs to differ, saying Zach is "severely allergic" to something. Zach's sinuses are totally clogged, he has "allergic shiners" under his eyes, and his glands are enormous. Dr. Kim spends the next few minutes quizzing me on Zach's behaviors, sleeping habits, and physical traits. My mind is reeling. How did I not know that Zach had allergies?

9:05 a.m. I leave the peds office with a prescription for Augmentin to treat Zach's infected node. I am supposed to observe Zach for a month and follow up with Dr. Kim. I stop at Walgreens on the way home.

9:20 a.m. Zach and I get home. Garry goes to work. I call an allergy-expert friend, order an allergy book online, and make an appointment with an allergist. The first open slot is July 7, but Zach is on a cancellation list. I am totally overwhelmed.

9:38 a.m. I nurse Lexi and put her down for a morning nap.

9:38 a.m. Gavin steals my camera and takes three dozen pictures.


The sneaky two-year-old perspective of the family room, where Zach was playing Mario Kart.

9:50 a.m. Lexi is screaming in her bed because the boys are fighting and making crazy amounts of noise. I slowly start doing last night's dishes. My head is pulsating. I am nauseated. Is it nap time yet?

10:15 a.m. Zach and Tyler finish their morning jobs and start playing video games. Things settle down a little bit. I give up on Lexi's nap. I remember I forgot to ask the pharmacist to flavor the Augmentin. I call. It's not too late to add the flavor.

11:00 a.m. I start sorting the kids' toys. I don't get very far before fights break out downstairs. I decide it's time to pick up Zach's prescription.

11:15 a.m. We pull through Walgreens and then Taco Bell. We get Daddy's order and take lunch to him. I wonder if it's safe to drive with a migraine. It's definitely not safe to eat a taco. It nearly comes up when I hit a bump in the road.

11:45 a.m. The kids spread their lunch on the kitchen table at home. I strap the Littles in their chairs and retreat to the office. I just need a few minutes of silence...

12:00 p.m. The phone rings. It's the allergist's office. Someone canceled; can Zach come at 2:00 this afternoon? Despite being overwhelmed at the prospect, I am grateful at the divinely-orchestrated possibility of having more allergy information today, rather than in a month. I take the appointment.

12:15 p.m. I call a babysitter. We're trying a new one, hoping she works out better than the last. I'll pick her up in an hour. I realize that Zach's 1.5-2 hour appointment (plus travel time) will most likely eliminate the first day of swimming lessons today. The kids will be devastated.

12:30 p.m. I start picking up downstairs. What if we have a showing today?

12:50 p.m. I check my email, open the message with all of the allergist paperwork attached, then fill out five pages of information in my best/fastest handwriting.

1:00 p.m. I put Lexi to bed, and then Gavin. Gavin requires lots of cuddles and encouragement. When I finish with him, Lexi is still whining in her bed.

1:15 p.m. I leave four kids at home and pick up Holly the babysitter half a mile away. I zoom through my list of instructions and then remember to introduce myself.

1:20 p.m. Back at home, Lexi is crying. I get Holly settled with the other kids, then nurse Lexi to sleep. I apologize profusely to Holly for the state of the house, explaining that it's usually not so horrific and knowing full well that she couldn't care less.

1:30 p.m. Zach and I make the 20-minute drive to the allergist's office. I talk to my allergy-expert friend on the way. I appreciate the moral support. My head feels like it's going to explode.

1:55 p.m. Zach and I dash through the rain and into the office building, then check in. I feel like I've earned a gold star when I submit the completed paperwork. The receptionist is thrilled.

2:00 p.m. We are ushered to an exam room by a terrific nurse. I relate the day's history and the consultation begins. I start to wonder how much my life is going to change today.

2:30 p.m. Zach realizes he's going to miss swimming lessons.

2:45 p.m. The nurse administers 20 skin pricks on Zach's back, each testing for a different allergen. We wait for 15 minutes and monitor his reactions. I read to Zach from Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban while we wait.


Those red dots are from a marker, not blood.

2:52 p.m. Garry texts. We have a showing from 6:00-6:30 tonight.

3:00 p.m. Zachary has absolutely NO reaction to any of the allergens. None. The doctor and nurse (and mother) are flabbergasted. The likelihood of any severe allergies seems slim. We opt for a "watch and wait" approach with Zach. We discuss my other kids and their possible allergenic symptoms (all of which seem more pronounced than Zach's). I decide to have them all tested in the near future.

3:25 p.m. We leave the office. It appears we'll be able to make our 4:00 swim lessons after all....if we really hurry.

3:45 p.m. Zach and I arrive home. He and Tyler fly into their swimming suits and grab towels and goggles while I put the Littles in the van. I give Holly a check.

3:50 p.m. I pull out of the driveway, leaving Holly standing on the porch in the rain. I have called her mom, who agreed to pick her up. I wonder how my life became so totally insane.

3:55 p.m. En route to the rec center, I instruct the boys on where to go and how to find their classes. If they run into the rec center ahead of me, they just might make it on time.

4:03 p.m. I walk into the pool area with Gavin and Lexi in the stroller. I am overjoyed to see Zach and Tyler in the water with their classes. We made it!!! God is good.

4:05 p.m. I take the Littles to the outdoor patio, thinking Gavin will enjoy running around in the wet grass. He does. Lexi is content in the stroller. I pull out my cell phone and call the allergist's office to make appointments for Garry and the kids to be tested. Their appointments will be on July 7, 8, and 13.

4:15 p.m. Gavin doesn't appreciate my distraction on the phone and has a loud, dramatic tantrum on the wet cement.

4:20 p.m. I am finally done on the phone. Gavin wants to go inside. We wander around the pool deck, Gavin walking beside the stroller like a big boy. We say "hello" to the brothers and every other person in the building. I hope the next 20 minutes pass quickly. They do.


Both boys forgot to remove their watches before jumping into the pool. Will they keep ticking?

4:40 p.m. We are waiting with towels and flip-flops for Zach and Tyler as they emerge from the pool, dripping wet and beaming. I remember how miraculous it is that we are actually here and savor the moment.


This moment brought to me by a loving Heavenly Father.

4:42 p.m. We are running back to the van. Time to clean the house!

4:50 p.m. When we arrive at home, Garry is already there, working on the house. What a guy! I'm so grateful for the help. The Littles stay strapped in their car seats. Zach and Tyler change out of swim suits. Tyler puts on baseball stuff; he has a practice at 5:30. Zach collects snacks.

5:10 p.m. I start mopping the floor and wonder aloud to Garry when this lifestyle will end. It is totally insane! Garry moves the Crock-pot full of marinating pork loin to the garage.

5:25 p.m. With all the kids back in the van, I leave Garry to finish the mopping, dusting, polishing, and vacuuming. He'll have to hurry. The kids and I head to the park in the drizzling rain. I call my mom en route to give her an update.

5:40 p.m. The baseball coach hasn't shown up, presumably due to rain. We go back home. I finish the mopping. Garry has done everything else.

5:55 p.m. I abandon the morning's plan for a dinner of pulled pork sandwiches and take the kids to Chick Fil-A. I find it ironic that we are eating out on the one night in the past three weeks that I have made a plan for dinner in advance.


Chick Fil-A has fantastic customer service. Fantastic, I tell you!

6:25 p.m. The showing is done and Garry meets us for dinner. The three boys are romping happily in the play area. Lexi is still chowing down. My Dr. Pepper is taking the edge off my headache and providing a second wind. We all have ice cream cones and take a breath.

7:05 p.m. Bath time. I am relieved that Lexi has finally overcome her fear of the tub.


This girl knows how to say "cheese" for the camera. And how to look cute in new zippers.

7:35 p.m. Silliness and merriment ensue. It feels good to laugh, at least until Tyler, Lexi, and Gavin each head-butt Dad in the nose.



8:00 p.m. Family prayer. Bedtime.

8:10 p.m. I hook up the laptop in the basement, put my feet up, and begin to blog this crazy day away.

9:02 p.m. I remember the pork in the garage. I rescue the Crock-pot, stir barbecue sauce into the juicy shredded pork, and dump it into a bowl to refrigerate until tomorrow night. Tuesday's dinner: check.

Unless we have another day like today.

The end.

Summer showings

This morning I discovered that preparing the house for a showing is a whole new ball game with four kids at home all day. I actually thought it would be easier to clean with the big boys around to help out, both with chores and the little kids.

Um, not so much.

By the time 11:00 a.m. rolled around I was completely stressed. If the kids were in the house, they were making messes and waking up Lexi. If they were out of the house, Gavin was escaping the backyard and everyone came in and out a hundred times for this and that. Keeping the wood floor and the sliding door clean with such shenanigans was impossible.

As I was cleaning -- and mothering, and feeling exceedingly overwhelmed -- a scripture passage kept running through my head. It's from Doctrine & Covenants 121: 7-8:

"Peace be unto thy soul. Thine adversity and thine affliction shall be but for a small moment;

"And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high, and thou shalt triumph over all thy foes."

Oh, how I am trying to endure this phase well! I was also comforted by the words to "Be Still, My Soul," a portion of which reads:

"Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In ev'ry change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav'nly Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end."

I am always grateful when such things come to mind during stressful times!

Once the house was ready to show, we got in the car and had to be gone for 90 minutes. I was pretty sure that I couldn't manage such a feat. But manage I did....after a little pep talk from a friend on the phone.

We started at McDonald's. A kind soul offered to carry my heavily-laden tray to our table when she saw me balancing Lexi on one hip and the tray in the opposite hand. Lunch was mostly pleasant. The boys darted in and out for bites of food as they played. I caught my breath and spooned yogurt into Lexi's mouth in between her bites of chicken nuggets.




While we were at McDonald's, Garry called to tell me that someone else wanted to see the house today; their showing was scheduled just after the first one. We had to be out until 2:30.

So instead of going home for naps, we went to an indoor playground called Whit's End at the Focus on the Family Welcome Center. I had heard great things about this place, most notably the admission price: free. The boys had heard friends talk about Whit's End, as well. The kids were thrilled, and I was glad for an indoor "safe zone" where we could hunker down for a while.

Um, no.

I wish someone had warned me that Whit's End is a maze. My four kids ran in four different directions. I just had to trust that Zach and Tyler would be OK; it was tons of work just keeping track of Gavin with Lexi on my hip. I silently prayed that no one would get abducted or hurt. Several people commented on how I should have brought a friend to help me. The hour we spent there was completely exhausting. I was sweating when we left. Sweating, I tell you!

I did manage to snap a few pictures:





Today's showings went really well -- especially the first one. On Sunday we have scheduled a second showing with a family who came last week. Their agent called yesterday to say her clients are very interested. We are ever hopeful that someday soon -- very soon -- this crazy phase of life will "lead to a joyful end."

Dear Buyer (wherever you are)

Dear Buyer,

I know my house has only been on the market for two and a half weeks, but I'm a little surprised you haven't found it yet. Are you just not looking? Are you afraid of its "for sale by owner" status? Have you already been to my house and just fear commitment?

If you are looking, perhaps I can understand your position. Maybe you're sad that you have to leave a place you love, and nothing else could be as great. Maybe you are leaving behind a beloved home of your own, plus family and friends and a familiar place. Or maybe you are thrilled to come to Colorado Springs. Maybe you are already here. Maybe you have a list of "must-haves" for your next house and you think ours doesn't quite fit the bill. I understand that a lot is at stake when you buy a house, and that you want such a large purchase to be the perfect thing. I know that right now there are many options, a large pool of homes from which to choose. The selection process is overwhelming.

Just know that as I pray each day that you will come -- to save me from all this cleaning and stress, to help me take a big step forward in my life plan, to finally send me off to my dear family, to help me secure a great interest rate on my next house, and to end this crazy phase of waiting and uncertainty -- that I am praying for you, too. I pray that our house will be perfect for you, that the neighborhood and the school (and the ward, if we are so lucky) will offer the right people and experiences for your life journey. I pray for the timing to be right for your family, too. I pray that you will know that our house is the one for you.

Having said all of this, dear Buyer, I want you to know...it's really hard to wait. What can I do to make you get here soon?

Love,

Heidi

6:03 p.m.

At 6:03 this evening, I sent an email to a friend. It was a rambling account of my afternoon, interspersed with questions about her life. The closing paragraph included the following tidbit:

"You’d never know my house was pristine at 2:00 p.m. It looks like a bomb went off now. Trying to keep ornery kids entertained is messy. I have cracker bits stuck to my feet, which is rather disgusting."

A few minutes later Garry walked in the door with three bags of groceries from Albertsons. I asked if he had gotten my voice mail...I needed one more thing. He frowned and checked his phone -- and it was dead. So he plugged it in to charge. I pulled dinner out of the oven.

At 6:15 p.m., Garry's cell phone rang. I could tell it was a Realtor. I held my breath, hoping it was good news from one of the promising showings we'd had this week. Then Gavin smacked his forehead on the edge of the counter and started screaming. I picked him up and ran from the room.

A moment later, Garry quietly opened the door to my bedroom, where I was hiding with Gavin and the other boys, who were wrestling/fighting on my messy bed. He looked at me and said, "Showing."

"For whom?" I asked, hoping it was a repeat customer.

"New clients. With an agent. In 30 minutes. Can we do it?"

"WHAT????"

We all sprang into action, a whirlwind of vacuums and rags and clutter-clearing hands. We sent Zach and Tyler downstairs to deal with puzzles and toys and cracker crumbs. Garry got to work on our bedroom and the bathrooms where the kids had just bathed. I put away groceries, cleaned up the dinner prep mess, and put our hot casserole in the fridge. Gavin ran around like a crazy person and Lexi, thankfully, watched the scene in amusement from the exersaucer in the dining room.

Somehow we made it. Twenty minutes after the agent's first call, I was mopping a few key areas on the floor and the agent called again. He was minutes away. Sweating, we loaded the kids in the van. I drove straight to McDonald's, and Garry stayed behind to let them in.

They stayed thirty minutes. As the agent and his clients left, he shook Garry's hand and said, "I'm glad we connected. We'll be in touch."

Will these be our buyers? If they are, we have a great story to tell!

Progress report

Here's a brief (am I ever brief?) synopsis of our life lately.

1. Doesn't the house looked lovely when dressed in Spring colors? Yesterday I updated our real estate fliers and online listings with this photo. I was so happy that the yellow tulips peeked out just in time for two showings in the late afternoon.


Those showings went really well, by the way. We would especially love it if the cute little family of six made us an offer today. They spent 90 minutes in our house, after all. If not them, then maybe the engaged couple who is planning far into the future or the guy from Tuesday who was mentally arranging furniture will want to buy. If not, we are having an open house on Saturday.

2. Zach and Tyler are participating in Landsharks, an after-school running club. They practice on Monday and Wednesday afternoons, and races are on Monday evenings. The boys are having a blast! This week they both elected to run the 800 meter race. Two laps on the track seemed like a lot for little legs, but they were determined! We talked about race strategy (start slow, finish fast) and having fun. I was pleased to see how Zach paced himself to finish with a kick. Watching him run makes me think he might enjoy the sport as he grows up. Tyler found the 800 a bit laborious, so he alternated sprints and walking. He was laughing a lot of the time. I was proud of him for finishing!


3. Gavin caused a spectacle at Wal-Mart this week. Well, two spectacles, actually. We were wrapping up a long grocery run with four kids and two carts. I pushed the food cart and Zach pushed the kid cart (with Gavin strapped into the seat and Lexi in her carseat in the basket). The last item on the list was Mothers Day cards. While I quickly browsed the card section, Gavin pulled gift bags and ribbons and crepe paper off the racks. Eventually he yelled and ornery, "Mo-om!" I replied in my sweetest voice, "Gavin, I love you!" He screamed, "I don't love you!"

Five minutes later we were in the check-out line. As I was hurriedly unloading groceries onto the belt, I didn't notice that Zach had left his post at Gavin's cart. In a split second, Gavin wrestled out of his seat belt, stood up in the cart, and lost his balance. It seemed that the entire population of Wal-Mart took a collective gasp as he teetered three feet above the hard floor. (Little did they know that a concourse of angels follows Gavin around to keep him safe. He didn't fall.) As I uttered a nearly-audible prayer of thanks, a gaggle of grandmothers materialized, yelling at my ineptness. One, in particular, had harsh things to say as I re-fastened Gavin's buckle. When she was done scolding me, I said (again, in my sweetest voice), "Thank you so much. That had never occurred to me."

Have I mentioned that Gavin can open one of our baby gates and has begun another no-nap campaign? At least he is still charming.


4. Lexi is standing more now, and is on the cusp of walking. She may be on the cusp of walking for a good long time, since she has the strength and coordination to walk but lacks the interest. She does love to stand, though. More on her development will come next week...on her first birthday blog post!

Another interesting tidbit about Lexi: she can throw one heck of a tantrum. This girl has lungs. I've never had a child who was so dramatic. (I know, I know...she's a girl.) I am starting to notice a pattern: the tantrums mostly happen when she is over-tired, like during our afternoon church block. I vastly prefer this version of Lexi:

We spend a lot of time at the park behind our house during showings. Lexi adores the swings.

5. Zach just finished reading Artemis Fowl. It was a bit of a stretch for the boy who loves to do everything in a hurry -- the book is almost 300 pages long -- but he really enjoyed the story! He used Artemis Fowl for his quarterly book share assignment in reading class. Zach's teacher asked him four or five questions about the book that he answered in front of the class. He also drew a picture that represented part of the story. For the first time this year, Zach earned an "exceeds expectations" grade. The only thing holding him back in past book shares was making eye contact with the audience. We're so proud of Zach for beginning to conquer his fear of talking in front of people!

Last weekend Zach and Tyler participated in our ward's variety show. Zach jumped on his pogo stick (no hands), which brought a roar of applause from the audience. Tyler told a series of jokes, and Zach's part was to say, "Who's there?" or "I don't know...what?" so that Tyler could deliver the punch line. A year ago Zach never would have done that for his brother. Way to go!


6. My dad travels a lot for work, and yesterday he flew into Denver! We met him in Castle Rock (30 minutes north) for dinner. What a fun treat! I'm so glad it worked out just perfectly to see our Gramps, if only for an hour.

It's pretty fun to think that the next time we see him, we'll be looking for a house in Arizona! Hopefully that's very soon!

Market madness

Twelve days ago, when we put our house on the market, a little switch flipped in my brain. That little switch has temporarily, yet dramatically, changed the course of our existence. We are in "show mode," as in the entirety of our family's life revolves around the ring of the phone and the state of the floor. Many things have changed, such as:

• I clean all day, every day. Starting from the moment my eyelids crack open each morning, I am tidying or dusting or wiping or mopping. The biggest push is in the morning, after I get kids off to school. I don't shower or relax until the kitchen and bathrooms are sparkling, the beds are perfectly staged, and floor is freshly mopped. This usually requires diligent efforts until at least 10:00a.m., since Gavin always spills or wrecks or streaks something before, during, or after I have cleaned an area.
• I have random stuff in my pockets. No matter how far in advance I prepare and clean the house, I always find last-minute do-dads as I am turning on lights and preparing to leave before a showing. Right now I have a fork, hair elastics, a Lego man, a marble, an eraser, and a dryer sheet in my pocket. Larger items get stuffed into whatever drawer is closest, which means things often get lost. It's annoying.
• The garbage can lives in the garage. People touring our house most definitely don't need to see the garbage can, which usually stands at the end of the counter, close to the back door. During showings we move it to the garage, but then I don't automatically bring it back inside when we get home, and then we can't throw anything away, and trash piles up. I also empty all the trash cans before showings, and if I don't have time, I leave them in the garage. This is another reason I have random stuff in my pockets.
  
• Gavin and Lexi think the van is their second home. Yesterday Gavin asked me, "Can I go get in my car seat so you can mop the floor?" I laughed out loud...he knows the drill! Our garage is just off the kitchen, so I often put my babies in their car seats and leave the van and house doors open. They are happily contained and we talk to each other while I mop the floor in peace.
• The van is a pig sty. This is because we live in the van. We eat meals and snacks, change clothes, do homework, read books, sort the mail, and all manner of other activities in the van while potential buyers and/or agents are looking at the house.
  
• I don't start something unless I know I have time to finish it. This mostly applies to laundry -- sorting, washing, folding, ironing, and putting away the laundry. And laundry is pretty low on the priority list when things like mopping the (giant) floor are at the top. So I wash laundry and change sheets at night, and can't remember the last time I ironed. Maybe tomorrow...
  
• We are eating worse than usual...and that is saying something. Since I hate cooking anyway and cooking only messes up the kitchen, I just can't handle it. So we are eating lots of convenience foods, sandwiches, and cereal. I pretty much don't care, but I'm sure my family doesn't appreciate it.
• I stay home more than usual. This may seem contrary to the normal state of selling a house, but really, I only leave the house for a showing or to pick up kids from school now. My baby naps best in the morning and my toddler naps only in the afternoon, and now, whenever I leave, the house needs to be spotless. My mobility was already limited, but now it's mostly non-existent. [Sidebar: I was just assigned a daytime visiting teaching route and think it's going to be impossible.]
• I wake up sleeping babies. This is exactly the opposite of my normal modus operandi. We bow to the real estate gods, no matter what time of day.
  
• I am extremely short-tempered. Am I pregnant? No. But if you know me as a pregnant person, you will better understand this state of mind. I am stressed out. I lose it over little things. I am totally emotional. If I seem irrational, it's because I am irrational. Please don't feed the insanity. I need gentle words and soft strokes and lots of encouragement right now. I have a severe case of market madness.
  

Guessing game

Who can guess which item in these pictures is for sale?

It may not be the one you think.

It's official

Tonight for dinner the kids and I drove through Chick-Fil-A and picked up dinner. We set up camp chairs in the garage, chowed down, and threw away the trash before going inside. I snapped a photo with my cell phone because the situation was so humorous.


I have a feeling that this routine, cell phone photos and all, might become commonplace.

Why?

Because I hate cooking. Oh, wait, you already knew that. But there's another reason, too. Our house is on the market.

Yep, we finally listed it -- for sale by owner. It's official.

The road to this particular day has been long and winding. I haven't appreciated the potholes and delays. But over the weekend, a difficult experience crystallized an important fact for us: we are ready to go. It's finally time.

So we're moving forward. The house is listed on several FSBO websites. We have shown the home to four Realtors in two days (no potential buyers yet) and have another appointment in the morning. We are hoping that the home buyer tax credit deadline next week might make this a busy weekend for us. If not, we are still moving in the right direction: towards moving.

To answer the question that is probably on your lips: No, there has not been any progress on a job for Garry. He will likely transfer to the Black Canyon Wells Fargo office and have an ugly commute for a while. We are praying that his physical presence in Arizona will make him a more attractive candidate in the job hunt.

Since Christmas I have felt like something special was going to happen with the sale of our home, and that miracles would pave the way to Arizona. So far I have been disappointed. But I still believe that our decision to go is correct, and that with God, all things are possible.

Here we go.

Check!

I'm rewarding myself with chocolate and an early bedtime because I just accomplished something important.


I {finally} finished all of the touch-up painting around the house. Since our house has, oh, 13 or so different colors of interior paint, this has been a big job. I've had paint cans littering my kitchen counters for two weeks, and let me just say that they are ugly and annoying. Paint cans be gone!

I am going to wait until tomorrow to put everything away, however. I'll let the sunshine stream in tomorrow morning so I can properly scrutinize all of the walls and doors and trim to make sure I haven't missed anything.

Now that almost all of the little fix-it projects are done, the next step is taking pictures. Then we'll make a flier. And then we'll {gulp} put the house on the market when the time feels right.

I think I need more chocolate.

Status updates

This morning the kids and I got out of the house. The walls were closing in; it was time to go! So we spent the morning running errands.

First stop: Advance Auto Parts. The van needed a new battery. In the last couple of months I have been stranded with kids in the school parking lot, my own driveway and garage, and, on Monday, Costco. The free installation took the sting out of the price. Lexi nursed while Frank installed the battery.

Second stop: Goodwill. Six bags, three lollipops, and one donation receipt later, we were outta there.

Third stop: Walmart. Last week Gavin poured my nearly-full gallon of carpet cleaning soap all over the kitchen floor. I need to clean my carpet. Also on the list: rubber gloves, yogurt, spaghetti sauce, and frozen hash browns. I forgot the hash browns.

Fourth stop: Home. I had forgotten my Costco card. Since we were home, I also grabbed a bib.

Fifth stop: Costco. I returned the plastic boxes I purchased the other day (re: broken) and picked up new ones, plus Marie Callender's chicken pot pies and cheese. Then we all ate pizza in the food court and contributed to the gross margin. Gavin was a mess of pizza sauce when he was finished; I was very glad for the bib.

...

After errands, the babies napped and I got to work. I cleaned out the fridge and the oven (baking soda rocks!), washed windows and tracks, and wiped down all of the kitchen cabinets and light fixtures. I wondered if the people who will soon tour our house will appreciate this attention to detail, or if I'm just creating extra work for myself. I sent some emails and talked a lot on the phone.

...

Garry talked to his boss today about keeping his job but transferring to a different office. The news wasn't especially encouraging, and all decisions on that front (as far as the higher-ups are concerned) will be delayed several weeks. Garry has begun to apply for work in other departments and has contacted colleagues in Arizona to aid in his search.

Without the "safety net" of the current job, I'm feeling a little anxious. The one thing we thought would be easy suddenly isn't easy. But the easy road isn't always the right road. God's plan isn't always simple. Fortunately I have lots of menial housework to occupy my hands while my heart and mind sort everything out!

The gory details (This is for you, Rachel)

Since our moving announcement, we've been peppered with questions, so I thought I'd explain why we have answers for none of them.

The reason.

Didn't we just move? Why, yes, yes we did. Two years ago this week I had moving thoughts flitting through my brain, wild and crazy moving thoughts. Then, 18 months ago, when we moved into this house, I only had one thought: NEVER AGAIN. I even said that out loud many times. I guess I should have known I was baking myself a nice dish of crow on which I would later feast.

We are very happy (VERY HAPPY) to be moving closer to family, but besides that and the fact that we feel directed to go, moving doesn't make any sense at all. We have loved every minute of our time in Colorado Springs. We have met fantastic people and had wonderful experiences. We love our home and the city and our ward and the boys' school. But apparently it's time to move on. I have been overwhelmed with spiritual feelings for a couple of weeks now. I'm grateful for the witness that we are doing the right thing, even if we can't see the finish line yet.

The job.

Garry works for Wells Fargo and loves what he does. The hours are great, his 3-mile commute can't be beat, he works for a wonderful boss, and his salary makes our life just the right amount of comfortable. After ten days off for the holidays, Garry is currently slammed at work. His boss is aware that he intends to move. Later this week he will discuss with her what transfer-type options are available. He is applying for new positions within Wells Fargo, and also looking elsewhere for work because that feels right, too. He has considered telecommuting from home once we move and finding a new job in Mesa later, but that option has not been cleared with the boss yet. Wells Fargo does not currently offer relocation assistance to any of its job applicants. This is a major bummer.

The house.

I had this fantasy that we'd be able to sell our house quickly and privately, thus happily avoiding Realtor fees and the big ugly task of showing our house. I'm not sure why I was so fixated on this idea (maybe because it would truly be a miracle in my life). We have pestered all of our house-renting friends but feel that pursuit is over. We are considering listing the house on MLS without an agent (cutting our fees in half), or, if that doesn't turn up the perfect buyer fairly quickly, we'll sign with an agent and do things the traditional way. We intend to list soon -- maybe by next weekend.

Since we bought so recently, and invested in improvements (yard, play structure, paint, flooring, appliances) with a long-term perspective, we are worried about recouping our money. As I said before, this move doesn't really make a lot of sense on paper. But after looking at homes for sale in our neighborhood, we hope ours will be attractive to potential buyers and will fetch a good price. We really love our house and hope it will be a blessing to another family.

The great news is that this is an excellent time to buy a house in Mesa. We are excited about the possibilities there, and my brother is a real estate agent who is sure to find us a sweet deal. (No pressure, Eric!)

The timeline.

The timing of our move depends mostly on The Job and The House. If this house sells quickly, we could be gone by Spring Break. (Ack!) This house has sold three times previously, and its longest stint on the market was 27 days (when we bought: 17). I suppose we need to be prepared for a quick sale. While I would be thrilled to avoid the stress of showings for months on end, I wonder how we would manage in sprint mode.

Part of me thinks it would be lovely to let the boys finish the school year here. Part of me thinks it would be much better to get a month or two of Mesa/Gilbert school in before summer break, partly to aid in friendships, and partly to break us in easy with the Arizona heat!

The bottom line.

At the end of the day, I have a thousand questions and no answers. I have a great deal of stress. I feel overwhelmed. I'm scared. I have vivid memories of how difficult this process can be....we did this very recently! How is everything going to work out? What is in store? Can I really do this?

But when I find myself getting worked up, I try to take a moment and center on the peaceful feelings I have when I think about actually living in Mesa. I know this is the right thing to do. I know the direction to move came from a loving Heavenly Father who has a much better plan than I could ever create for myself. And I know he will provide. I know he will provide.

I just have to trust him, listen to him, and walk in the direction he leads.