Black Belt Mama

I'm So Excited!

It's starting to hit me that this moving thing is really happening. It could be because of today's events.

I spent the day packing about 20 boxes of things that we won't be using, loading them into the van and taking them to one of our new storage units, aka my parent's house.  We also wrote out the biggest check we've ever written (10% of our new home's price), which means we're eating only things in the pantry closet for the rest of this month.  Along with the check, we signed the official paper removing the contingency and giving our builder the green light to get building. 

Our realtor is also making our appointment to select all of our exterior house colors, interior colors, flooring, cabinets, hardware, lighting fixtures, etc. for next week.  NEXT WEEK!  They should be breaking ground within the next two weeks once they have the permits and we've signed off on the final plans.  They have committed to a settlement date on or before October 20th, which is much better than I thought it was going to be (Our 10-year wedding anniversary is October 17th so that is pretty cool). 

I also started putting things on Freecycle to get rid of things we don't want to take to the new house and hopefully get some moving boxes for free within the next week or two.  It's working fabulously so far.  One woman's trash is definitely another person's treasure. 

In addition to all of these other signs that are pointing to this really happening, I have also started to break out (as in teenager face all over again).  Who says that the stress is gone once your house is under contract? 

When Halloween rolls around, I'm going to be one happy girl. 

Help Wanted-Moving

In 29 days, the entire BBM family will be moving in with my parents.

Deep breath.

 

Our house is under contract, just as soon as my realtor shows up at my door so I can sign.  He'll be here in minutes.  The contingency on our new home is being removed as I write this, and the builder will break ground in two weeks or less. 

Because we're moving in with my parents, Big I will be in the school district that she needs to be in.  She'll be starting the year at her new school.  This, I'm telling myself, is the reason we're agreeing to inconvenience ourselves in such an incredibly huge way. 

So, I have some needs:

1.  Boxes:  I need to pack seven rooms, three bathrooms, a basement, a crawl space and a garage in 29 days.  I don't even know where to begin.  I don't know how I will get this done.

2.  Packing Help:  See #1, and let me repeat: I don't know how I will get this all done.

3.  Moving Help: Because this knee is just not cutting it yet, Mr. BBM is going to have to single-handedly carry our washer and dryer down 21 stairs and then up seven stairs into a truck and then back into a storage unit.  If you're not available for the first move, keep in mind that there will be a second move.  Yes, two.  Yes, I'm crazy.

3.  Counseling:  Because did you read that first sentence?  We will be living with my parents for three months.  I'm not at all concerned about living with my Mom, but there's my Dad to consider.  When we lived with them for a year when Big I was just a baby, he drove me insane.  He treated me like I was 15 years old again and as much as he thought he would hate to relive that year of my life, I hated it much more.  I told Mr. BBM that it's really no big deal for him.  He works out of the home three days a week.  I work at home (two jobs) and raise two munchkins.  As appreciative as I am to my parents to let us move in with them (again), I know it might not be easy for us me, or our cats who will have to stay somewhere else entirely.  I'll probably need counseling; I'll definitely need sangria.  Copious amounts of sangria, so cabernet contributions will be graciously accepted as well.

Next week I'll pick my colors for my new house.  My realtor says it will hit me then.  I'm starting to believe that this is really happening!

I'd Like to Thank the Academy Neighbors

Our Open House is over.  It was declared a "success" by both our mortgage guy and our realtor.  We had eight separate parties come through the house.  Usually my realtor downplays any potential interest, but today he said that two of the parties showed some real promise.  This is what happens when you just decide not to care anymore. 

The only cleaning that got done today was by Mr. BBM.  My parents kept the girls last night so that we could get cleaned up.  We ended up doing some of the cooking for today and then spent the rest of the night having dinner (Hungarian Pasta to die for and salad) over at our neighbor's house (They didn't want us to dirty our house so they invited us to just hang out there).  We also had wine, lots of wine, sort of like the never-ending glass of wine.

We also had margarita's, pina colada's, and sangria. 

At one point, I was showing our house to my neighbor and he went into my crawl space and stayed in there for a good 15 minutes remarking how he would turn that into his private office space since he likes sitting on the floor anyway.  It was that kind of night.

This morning, while I held my head in my hands and cursed white wine and the glass that always stayed full, my other neighbor (an extraordinary personal chef) showed up and began rolling up these beautiful little flatbread sandwiches containing Tuscan turkey, baby leaf spinach, cranberry and mango chutney and whipped cream cheese. She also helped us make lemonade and mint tea from scratch and then adorned the pitchers so that they looked like they could have been at a fancy restaurant. 

We then garnished the mini cream cheese cupcakes plate and these amazing chocolate chip peanut butter desserts with fresh raspberries.  It was kind of like preparing for a party at your own house that you can't attend.  Thank goodness for leftovers.  As we were finishing the last bit of set-up/clean up, the first party started coming through the house and we quickly made our exit.

There are wonderful things about this house that I will really miss when our house finally does sell and we move.  But of all the things that I'll miss the most, it's a few choice neighbors who have become really great friends.   

Open House Prep. . . Again

It's been a beautiful day today, but I've spent almost the entire time inside cooking.  I've made like 500 cream cheese mini cupcakes (how I wish I was kidding about the number), and then my personal chef neighbor friend is helping me make some kind of little rolled flatbread-type sandwiches with things in it that I've never tasted, chutney for example. 

Our Open House has been advertised like crazy and there are signs directing people to my house from here to Alaska.  We've had a lot of street traffic pulling in today and taking fliers.  One couple in particular got a bit under my skin. 

Earlier today, there was a kitten hanging out in our front yard.  It was adorable and we were all out front playing with him.  The girls were just loving him.  Because it's so hot today, Mr. BBM put a water dish out for the kitten.  The kitten was super grateful.

However, when some potential buyers pulled in a little while later, I'm guessing they didn't like the bowl being out front.  As they pulled a flier out of the sign, they exchanged disgusted looks as they gestured towards the bowl.  Maybe it's because I've had it with stupid potential buyers (especially first timers), but it took all I had not to scream at them, "You know, the bowl is not a permanent fixture.  It doesn't come with the house and it's not cemented to the ground. It's not a pile of trash, a car jacked up on cement blocks, or a washing machine that doesn't work anymore.  It's a bowl. It's there temporarily to show some compassion to a thirsty kitten, jerks." 

Instead of launching into my tirade, I delivered my trash to the dumpster and scratched my head with my middle finger. I don't know if they noticed or not, but being passive-aggressive sometimes makes me feel better.

Something tells me they won't be back tomorrow and I can't tell you how happy I am about that. I'll also be happy if the second set of low-ballers stay away.  I don't know what's up with buyers lately but they obviously don't know how this whole process works.

Step 1: Buyers make crappy offer.
Step 2: Sellers counter.
Step 3: Buyers counter back
Step 4: Somewhere in this process, an agreement is reached that is acceptable to all.

Instead, this is how it's been going for us:

Step 1: Buyers make sucktastic low-ball rage-inducing offer.
Step 2: Sellers counter with a reasonable number and terms.
Step 3: Buyers walk.

This is a home, a very nice one at that, for sale.  We're not operating a charity here for ignorant first-time home buyers.  All I know is this: we better get some serious traffic tomorrow because I won't be able to fit in my front door if I have to get rid of all the stuff I cooked for it tomorrow. 

Sucktastic #2

Today we got an offer from new people.  They saw our house yesterday for the first time and put in an offer more pathetic than the first sucktastic offer of a few weeks ago.  On top of the low offer, they're requesting seller's assist.  They want us out of here in like 30 days, and they didn't even give us any hand money, saying instead that they'll give it after we accept their agreement.  They also elected every possible contingency with the opt out option checked instead of the negotiate one.  Yeah, that's a good strong offer. 

Not.

Because I think my realtor sensed I was on the edge, he came for a visit this afternoon.  With comps in hand, he showed me that we are priced right, that three intelligent people can't be wrong, and that we have had the unfortunate luck of being given not one, but two crappy offers for absolutely no sensible reason.  I was wearing my "Life is Good" shirt when he arrived.  I'm not completely sure this whole shirt/attitude thing is working for me.

We countered quickly and with this: full price and we'll consider moving out sometime this summer and inconveniencing ourselves.  Or, give us our settlement when we want it and we'll maybe consider giving some seller's assist with a full price offer.  Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

Our realtor encouraged me (and himself because I think his little pep-talk was for both of us) to move on and focus on what comes next.  These people aren't doing us any good.  Focusing on their sucky offer won't do us any good either.   

I'll tell you something that will though. I was stirring it up as my realtor arrived. . . sangria. 

Dear Prospective Home Buyers. . .

I won't go into the details.  I'll just say that yesterday I was absolutely convinced I was having a heart attack as we finished cleaning up the house for a showing.  I had terrible chest pain, and it killed to take a deep breath.  When we arrived at my Mom's house for my grandmother's 91st birthday party, I told her that I thought I might be dying.  She gave me some Maalox, and soon I felt better.  Stress-related heartburn, not heart failure.  Relief.  Having your house on the market when you have two young children is one of the most stressful things you can do. 

We have a big open house coming up.  Over 200 invitations have been sent out to apartment renters. Door prizes will be given, the mortgage man and realtor will be on site, and if someone buys my house, they'll get a flat screen HDTV. Because of recent events, I'm considering leaving a note on the counter that reads like this:

Dear Prospective Home Buyers,

If you're looking for something cheap, you're at the wrong location.  You should probably go visit the Dollar Store and stop wasting my time.

Sincerely,

The Home Sellers

I've had it with certain buyers saying we're "overpriced" when we're at least $20K beneath the comparable homes right up the street that have 500 square feet less than us and virtually no upgrades to speak of. I'm tired of cleaning and getting my hopes up, and I'm not sure how to deal with it.

Do I approach things with a positive attitude every time someone expresses interest in my home and think that this could be it?  Or should I prepare myself for the absolute worst and figure that nothing will come of it to spare myself the intense disappointment?

Anyone have advice?  Positive thoughts?  A sales agreement for me with a full price offer perhaps?   

Life is Good

I took the girls to the grocery store to stock up after vacation.  Big I was thrilled to see one of the nuns from her school there.  As we passed her in the aisle, I realized I was wearing my new t-shirt that I bought on vacation that says, "Girls Just Wanna Have Rum."  No wonder I got a slightly disgusted look from her.  I'm guessing nuns don't drink or approve of rum-related activities?  Oh well.

Upon returning home, you'll never guess who was parked in front of my house!  The low-ball offer people!  They were just leaving as I was pulling in.  They had to drive directly past me.  I know it was them because my neighbor (who also spies when we have showings) was outside at the time and saw them sitting in front of my house, staring longingly at it for quite some time.  Guess who now has hand?  Uh-huh, that's right.  We do.

I asked my realtor and apparently if I get an insulting offer twice from the same people, I am fully entitled to some retribution in the form of a good swift kick to their shins or perhaps spitting on their offer.  Sweet.

I was also informed tonight that we did have a showing this week.  It was a third showing and the couple has narrowed it down to our house and one other, with ours looking better at this point.  You know what this means, faithful readers.  It is time to assume the position, as in the crossing of the legs, arms, fingers, toes and eyes. I'm remaining calm and quietly optimistic that this will work out.  If not, our realtor and mortgage guy have planned an open house extravaganza (my idea) complete with give-aways (that they are providing) for the end of the month.  Here's hoping we won't need it at all.

I also got a call from my physical therapist today.  I'll be getting my karate brace on Wednesday.  Apparently my insurance company has agreed that I need a third insanely expensive knee brace. This doesn't mean I'll be using it for a while.  Getting radar detection, metal spikes, and ear-piercing alarms installed on those braces takes time.

This t-shirt attitude adjustment thing is really working, even when I'm wearing my rum shirt.  Life is good.

One is the Lonliest Number

Despite the fact that we had a ton of street traffic all morning long before the Open House, we had only one taker actually show up at the scheduled time.  The good news is that she stayed here for quite some time, sat at our kitchen table and talked about how she loves our house.  The funny thing about it, is that she currently lives in the neighborhood where we'll be building.  She and her husband are looking to downsize, and we're looking to super-size. 

Although my realtor tends to almost always play down the interest level of potential buyers, he seemed very positive about this potential one and said he was going to speak with her agent.  He mentioned something to me about possibly arranging a switch, as in she gets my house and I get hers.

My realtor was telling us yesterday about some calls he has fielded on our home recently. One of the interested callers kept him on the phone for 45 minutes telling him about how he's currently renting but the rent is killing him.  He then said, "What's a guy to do when he's on disability and has no job?  How's a guy like me supposed to pay rent like that?"  Well, news flash, it's probably easier to pay rent than it would be to buy my house without any income or livelihood.

One thing is for sure-my house seems to bring out the crazies.  People who won't make an offer until their elderly mother dies.  People who think we're giving away our house as part of charity, and then refuse to play the house buying game the right way.  Eerie men who show up expecting me to personally escort them through my house. 

I've said it before but it warrants saying one more time.  I'll be so glad when this is all over.

Sabotage

Tomorrow is Open House number four.  I swore I wouldn't do another one, yet here we are, Open House Eve yet again.

This song pretty much sums up what's been happening with my inconsiderate neighbor:

Yesterday, the local Britney Spears decided it was a fine time to clean out her large kitchen garbage can.  Since cleaning is super hard, she thought she'd do it the natural way and just leave it sit out on the pavement our two homes share to collect rain water.  Last time, she naturally cleaned her litter box, now her trash can.

Mr. BBM moved it closer to her door so it didn't appear to be our trash can.  Later, he moved it directly in front of her door so that she would have to move it in order to get in or out.  He's pretty good at this trash can business considering he once pulled that trash can full of water in an elevator prank when he was in college. 

Despite his careful trash can placement, she moved the can out of her way three times without doing anything about it yesterday.  It's not like she doesn't have a back yard complete with a patio and deck where she could do her natural trash can cleaning.  No, it must be on the pavement in front of the house on an Open House weekend.  I guess the trash can cleaning gods only work in front of the house and only when your neighbor is expecting guests.

Today, we left for Big I's t-ball game and the trash can was still sitting at her door.  I said, "If that trash can is still out there when we can back, I'm going to kill her." 

Big I must have thought I was serious because when we pulled back in and the trash can was still there, she gasped with horror and said, "Mommy, are you really going to go kill her now?  How are you going to do it?"

I was about to tell her how when Mr. BBM said, "I'll take care of it."

He went outside to pull some weeds, and then he took the trash can and moved it to her back patio without me having to say another word. 

Just a few moments ago, I saw her go out onto her deck.  She was wearing flannel penguin pajamas and a surgical face mask.  She was flapping her comforter in the breeze off the deck along with another blanket.  When she was finished, she threw the comforter across a chair and did the same with the blanket. 

I'm not sure what happened in her house that requires a face mask, but I'm wondering if she's going to pretend like there's a SARS epidemic in our neighborhood tomorrow or something.  I'm also guessing that the comforter and blanket will stay there, strewn across the deck that is right smack against mine because they probably have squirrel poop on them or something from that time months ago when a squirrel got in her house after she had left the door open (probably all night long).

For your listening pleasure.  The chorus is my new theme song. . . 

I gotta find a way to get outta here. . .

***I know I have a lot of homeschooling readers.  You might find this of interest. 

How It Works (Or Rather, How it DOESN'T)

Step 1.  Sellers price their home "right" and put the sign in the yard.

Step 2.  First potential buyers come and they "love it.

Step 3.  Potential buyers come back for a second time and are "thinking of writing it up."

Step 4.  Potential buyers disappear for two months.  Perhaps they are super hero's?  Maybe hiberating?  Trapped in a cave somewhere?  Drove off a bridge?  Stuck in a time warp?

Step 5.  Home sellers spend a bunch of money upgrading things around the house: kitchen floor, most of carpet in house, etc. etc.

Step 6.  Buyers come for third showing, stay for an hour, eat cookies, take pictures.

Step 7.  Buyers disappear for almost two weeks.  Perhaps their super powers were required somewhere else?  Maybe a ground hog told them to go back to sleep for a bit longer?

Step 8.  Buyers make low-ball, sucktastic offer that isn't even in the realm of possibility, based not on comps (because it would be silly to base an offer on reality), but rather on the fact that they "want a counter-offer."

Step 9.  Sellers' realtor initially tells buyers they are way off base, but then makes a suggestion that sellers follow.  Sellers give reasonable counter-offer to show "good faith" and that they want to work something out despite the fact that the offer buyers put forth does not show they are serious (and in fact shows they are dumb and perhaps blind).

Step 10.  Buyers think about it for two days and then decide that their response is this: they don't want to come back with anything at this time BUT they still want to keep the lines of communication open (in other words, if sellers are interested in GIVING away their beautiful home, they're game and will certainly take it).

Step 11.  Seller (aka BBM) tells realtor to take buyers offer, check and envelope and give it back to their agent.  How's that for a little "communication"? Good riddance.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but when sellers make a counter offer, isn't it usually standard practice that the buyers counter back?  Wait, let me answer myself.  No, because apparently buyers want to just stick to their initial craptastic offer to show their true naivete and that they are perhaps jerks.  Yes jerks.

I'm still feeling positive.  Our other showing this week went very well and the buyer showed great interest.  It's going to happen, just not with wishy-washy-craporama-offer people. 

On a lighter note, I won a $50 Gymboree gift card today.  Yippee!  It's a sign of things to come. 

Jinx

I don't want to say anything that will jinx us.  All I'm going to say is that our showing yesterday went very well. I feel strongly that good things are just around the corner. 

In other news, Lil C decided that a full frontal brush burn of her entire body would be cool.  I'll just say: tip of nose, above the lip, both lips (think Mick Jagger), and both knees.  Unlike Big I, Lil C stopped crying as soon as I picked her up.  She let me wash her boo-boo's and didn't even care that she had blood all over her shirt (and mine). 

Last night, we drove over to look at our reserved lot.  Mr. BBM took the girls out onto what just looks like a field now and walked all around.  I stayed in the car and grinned ear to ear.  I won't allow myself to touch it just yet, too afraid I'll jinx it for all of us.  I couldn't help but think that if we were there, Lil C's injuries would have been grass stains instead of blood. 

I have a feeling we're going to be there soon.

Offer

The wishy-washy people have put an offer on our house in writing; and people, it is not a good one.  If I had to compare it to something, I would say that the feeling from this offer is reasonably close to how I felt after eating bad scallops.

A half hour before we were told they were officially writing it up, we got a call for a showing on Wednesday.  We also have an open house on Sunday.  Something tells me that St. Joseph is working and everything is going to work out.

If you'd all like to assume the "crossed" positioning once again, I sure would appreciate it.

Yet Again

Mr. BBM talked to our realtor this morning.  There's still no word on the wishy-washy non-deciding people who are making me more cranky than usual.  My realtor asked if we could have Open House number FOUR this weekend.  He says he'll be promoting it with a ton of directional signs, ads in the real estate and business sections of the paper and in the real estate weekly.  Plus, the signs will go up early in the week, as opposed to last time.

Mr. BBM told our realtor he'd have to ask me if it was o.k.  While still on the phone with him, he asked me and I made a face that could only mean one of two things: 1. I'm going to kill you now or 2. I'm going to kill you later.  Mr. BBM took that to mean that it was o.k. with me.  I guess I need to work on my "want to kill you" looks.

I'm sick and tired of cleaning my house like a mad woman so that random strangers (and lots of nosy neighbors-not those of you who read this blog) can come eat a handful of chocolates and traipse through my house with no intention of making an offer on it.  I'm tired of baking cookies for these people and scrubbing little areas of my house that no normal person would ever clean.  I'm sick of second-guessing everything about my house and feeling like our dream home is never going to happen. I'm trying to be positive and hopefully when the rain leaves this week, it will help me get in the right state of mind. 

Our contingency agreement expires again on Friday and although I'm fairly certain our builder will extend the agreement, I'm tired of stressing about it and worrying about when we'll be able to finally move.  Maybe instead of cookies, I should serve strong mojitos and beer and tell our realtor to bring along a mortgage person.  Maybe I should just make some jello shots instead.  Beer goggles are a proven fact with people; maybe it would work with pink counter-tops as well.

Make It Happen

We have one week before we need to ask our builder for yet another contingency extension.  Although I swore I would leave it up to St. Joseph, I can't deny the stress I'm feeling right now.  It's time for this to happen.  If they don't break ground soon, then we won't be in our new home by the time the new school year starts.  With switching schools being traumatic enough, I really don't want to make Big I start school at her new place late.  There are other options here, like her staying with my Mom who lives in that school district, but the most desirable outcome is to be in our new house in August. 

I had a thought today.  I emailed my realtor and told him I'd like to make an offer on my own house.  I'd like to offer $1.  I'll even put 50% of that down in the form of hand money.  Does that count?  Can he now go tell the realtor with the very-interested-but-still-dragging-their-feet-people that there is another offer to make them move?  I'm tired of waiting; these people are killing me and if they think for one second that they're going to get our place at a bargain (which it already is) just because they made us wait, they can forget it.  I'm getting more annoyed with every day that passes and they continue to ask stupid questions that we've already answered previously instead of just putting it in writing.  An annoyed BBM is not likely to be kind with a counter-offer.  An annoyed BBM is not likely to be kind, period.

It baffles me that they won't put it on paper (It also baffles me as to why David Archuleta's ears always seem to be backlit during his performances on American Idol, but that's for another post). When we saw this house, we fell in love. We went one day, saw it for a second time the next day and put an offer in that night.  If they love it as much as they say they do, then put it in writing already!

We're not desperate to move.  In fact, Mr. BBM will tell you that he's quite content to just stay here now that we have a new kitchen floor, new carpet, and a freshly stained deck.  It feels and looks new, especially with the way I've been cleaning and organizing. I, however, don't want to lose my new house, which is right now a grassy lot, a grassy lot where I've already chosen my colors, built my house, moved in, take jacuzzi baths, and have hosted Christmas festivities.  I'm so attached to that lot and my imagined house that I think I will die of jealousy if someone else gets that lot and builds their house on it instead of me building mine.

Verdict

They love our house.  We're their favorite.  Are you sensing a "but"?  Because there is one. 

They are first time home-buyers and they want to see every other possibility in the whole wide world before they decide we are the right house for them.  This does not mean they don't want our house; they do.  They just want to be 100% sure and they can't be if they've only seen eight other properties.  While they continue to peruse the universe, they want to be notified immediately if another offer comes in on our house. 

I might be slightly exaggerating about the number of homes they intend to see; but I am a woman on the edge here.  I am a woman who is seriously sick and tired of vacuuming morning, noon and night and constantly putting dishes and clothes away.  I am a woman on official bed-making strike.  I am done. . .

. . .until we get another call for a showing and then I'll turn right back into Martha again, spelling out "buy me now" in the carpet with the vacuum and baking perfect chocolate chip cookies that the girls aren't even allowed to smell.

In the interest of completely changing the subject so that my breathing can return to normal once again, what does one wear to Tequila Con 2008?  Because I have no idea, and somehow I'm imagining that asking Karl might be a bad idea.

No News is Good News?

No, not a question mark!  No news is good news.  Period. That's my mantra and I'm sticking to it. . .

Oh, who am I kidding? 

Today my stomach has been in knots for the entire day.  We've heard nothing yet.  Nothing.  These people are seriously killing me.  "Killing me softly with no word, killing my house hopes, with no word, killing me softly. . . make an of-of-of-offer."  Yes, I do believe I've lost it.  The cleaning chemical fumes, the stress of it all. . . I'd like to move into a new house at some point but I'll probably just need the crazy house by the time this all happens.  My family will need therapy too, from being yelled at one too many times for messing up my perfect vacuuming lines.

I know your muscles are all cramped up, but if you could just continue to keep crossing your arms, legs, eyes, eyelashes and private parts for luck, I'd really appreciate it.  If you do, I'll buy you a beer at Tequila Con this weekend. I'll need photographic proof of course, that you held up your end of the bargain (eyes, arms, legs and eyelashes only.  Please keep your private parts, well, um, private).  But yes, I'm going to Tequila Con to meet some real live bloggers and that is seriously the only thing that is getting me through this on-edge week.

No news is good news.  No news is good news.  No news is good news.

***To kill the waiting time, head over to The BBM Review to check out the latest reviews and find out how you could win an IPOD Nano!

Fingers, Toes, Arms and Legs

From our spy cove across the street and behind some forsythia bushes, we took note of the time, 6:02 p.m.  That's the time our potential buyers arrived at our house for the third time.  At 6:40 p.m. they finally emerged from the house, walked over to the garage, talked and then took pictures.  They took pictures of the garage.  Either they are going to make an offer or they are cataloging our items so they can steal them.  They stayed until approximately 6:50 p.m., 20 minutes past their scheduled showing time had ended.

I'm going with the first explanation, that an offer will be forthcoming.  Won't you join me in crossing your fingers, toes, arms and legs for luck?  I am on pins and needles.

All Appendages Crossed Fool

We had our third open house today, and I am now collapsed in a heap on the sofa.  I am exhausted, and I'm hoping that we'll soon have an offer.  We had four parties walk through today.  One person stayed for 45 minutes; and all of the people who came through "loved it."  Since our realtor is on vacation, he had another agent sit this open house.  It was nice to hear feedback from another person in the know.  She said that our house is gorgeous and that she thinks it will sell very soon.  She said that the real estate market has really been picking up over the past week or so and it looks like that trend will continue (at least in our area). 

Tomorrow night, we have a third showing.  The people coming through are the same ones who were here the first week we were on the market and after their second showing, they were going to "write it up" when someone in their family got very ill.  Now they're coming back.  They'll see fresh paint, new flooring, new carpet and a deck that looks brand new.  We are hoping that this week will be the week.  If it is, then we'll still be able to get into our new house before the school year starts in September.  If I wasn't so tired from all this cleaning and creating, I'd have every appendage crossed for luck.  It just has to happen and soon. 

There is always something that can be done around the house, so Mr. BBM and I made our own headboard yesterday.  It cost us less than $60 and I think it looks pretty fabulous.  We made it out of plywood, 1' foam padding, that batting stuff you buy in fabric stores and an on-sale curtain from Pier 1.  I think it was the final touch that our bedroom needed. 

Besides touch-ups with the vacuum and keeping things flowing (like laundry and dish washing), I am so done.  Martha needs a rest; I am one house seller who is seriously burnt out.

Because Miss Chris is a long-time reader and blogging buddy and she requested it, I had to take this picture before I sent back this hideous piece of jewelry.  Just call me "Mrs. T." 

I pity the fool who doesn't offer full price for my house!   

The Chocolate Had to GO

This morning, Mr. BBM called me from work at around 10:30 a.m. and asked me what I was doing.  "I'm cleaning," I told him "What else would I be doing?"  We're preparing for yet another Open House.  "Oh yeah, well what have you done?" he asked me. 

He expected it to be a short phone call.

By 10:30 a.m. I had washed, dried, folded and put away two loads of laundry.  I also had all of the "showing" linens in the washer.  I had also dusted and picked up both of the girls' rooms, made all three beds, cleaned up two bathrooms, vacuumed, swept the front sidewalk twice (our tree is dropping all of its flowers and if I don't they all end up in our house), put away dishes in the dishwasher, loaded up the breakfast dishes, reorganized three cabinets in the kitchen and was starting to reorganize the forever multiplying mounds of toys.  I swear the stuffed animals and Barbie dolls are breeding.

It wasn't all bad though. In order to make more room in the cabinets, I ate my body weight in chocolate.  My chocolate stash that no one else knew about is now completely gone.  That's right, gone.  I'm not apologizing for it either.  I burnt those chocolates off by noon anyway.   

Taking out the Pink

On Friday, we had new carpet installed.  I am happy to report that the only pink that remains in this house is on our kitchen counter tops and in our girls' closets.  That is it.  The pink is officially dead.

I had this great post written up about my trip to "Staples" this weekend which is actually code language for the bar at Chili's, but then my computer ate it when it decided to reboot for miscellaneous stupid updates.  Thanks a lot Microsoft.

So, since my creative juices are in need of lunch, I bring you yet another BBMHGTV edition of "Before and After."  Now will someone please buy my house already!?!

Before:

After:

Before:

Before:

After:   

Before:

After:

Potential buyers should take note that if someone offers us asking price, we think we'll counter $5K above. 

***If you missed me on Blog Talk Radio, you can listen to the replay here.  Among our discussion topics: why I won't appear naked on my blog, 100 year old birthday parties, annoying twitter people and more.   

A Pile of Dirt to Call My Own

Last night Mr. BBM and I placed a deposit on our chosen lot.  Mr. BBM is excited/nervous and I am just plain ECSTATIC!  The lot is nice and flat, backs up to common area with a walking trail that goes down to a park.  It is exactly the kind of location I wanted for the girls.  Our Realtor lives about two blocks away and told me that the neighborhood is crawling with little girls and families.

We just sent our list of chosen options to our Realtor.  We'll get price quotes this week and then we'll write up our agreement.  From the time we get a contract on our house, our new home will be ready in about 3.5 months.  The timing is just about perfect, so that we can move in the summer and Big I can meet some kids in the neighborhood before starting at her new school. 

We had a showing last night while we were at our meeting and our Realtor let us listen to the voice mail that the showing agent left for him.  He wanted to know when we want settlement and also if there is any other interest in the house "in case we decide to write it up."  Our Realtor raised his eyebrow and gave a little smile.  This happened exactly 30 minutes after he told the builders representative that our house is going to go fast. 

Last night, Mr. BBM and I put together a spread sheet of options.  We know we're going to probably have to make some cuts.  He was trying to cut out my additional peak on the roof and I was trying to cut out his extra cable outlet.  We almost took it to the basement to settle things the old fashioned way, but I don't yet have my ACL brace so I figured we better not.  Something tells me he's probably right about it costing less for an extra outlet than for an extra peak on the roof. 

It's going to be so exciting, but I'm sure it will be stressful as well.  Choosing carpet, cabinets, flooring colors (not pink), lighting fixtures. . .

I don't think my feet have touched the ground all day though.  I have the Pointer Sisters song "I'm so excited" just playing on repeat in my head.  I am just so thrilled that we're actually going to do this.  Just think how much fun it will be to watch a pile of dirt turn into a new house.  I'm planning on taking all of you along for the ride with us in the coming months. . .   

I know you're not supposed to use blow dryers in the bathtub, but I can totally blog from my new jacuzzi tub right?  Don't worry, I don't plan on taking you along there.