Every time I think I'm getting back into the swing of things with this blog, I skip off into the universe again & poof! It's been weeks since I wrote. At this point, I've had so many "oh, I"m going to have to blog about this" moments that they all meld together into a swirl of blurry semi-memories that just are not going to be riveting to either write about OR read. So.
I'll try again.
I'll start with our "big" news (as in "big pain in my ass"). We have to move. Again. Our landlords contacted us almost 2 weeks ago to let us know what fabulous tenants we are and how much they looooove having us in their home. But we have to go. They are selling the house & we are not buying it. So out we go. Fortunately our lease goes through mid-October, so its not like we have to be out this weekend. Although, given that they want to put the house on the market & show it before the end of summer, moving out this weekend does sound tempting.
There seems to be an expectation that I will be inhabiting this home & keeping it "show ready" for their realtor to do open houses & appointment showings. Um. Really? Because, I'm not really what you'd call a "housekeeper," in that I don't really "clean my house every day," and I don't "scrub the toilets til they shine," and my kitchen isn't always "tidy," and our dirty laundry doesn't always "hit the hamper," and my 5-year old doesn't "always aim correctly when he pees," and my cats aren't "without their smelly faults," and my mail isn't completely "sorted," and the garage is sort of what you might call "our own personal junk shop."
So I don't really think it is going to be beneficial to either their goal of selling a house or my goal of not stressing out over whether or not they can sell their house for us to be living in the home for much longer. Mid-October is looking more like mid-August for us.
Sigh. My little bloggy break has its perks for you in that while I've not been blogging, I've pretty much gotten past the angst of making Ethan move for a 4th time in 5 years, so I'm not going to ramble endlessly about that mommy guilt. I've gotten to the "kids are resilient!" and "he'll be fiiiiiine!" part of that process, so yay for that, at least. I'm trying to dig deep to that "What an adventure!!!! This will be a fun new beginning!!!" attitude that I know is in there somewhere, but has been covered over by layers contentment and routine.
Now the angst is revolving around the fact that there is nothing out there right now to rent. When we moved here 2 years ago, the housing market was in the shitter & that meant lots of good rental deals. People couldn't sell their houses, so they rented them out. Fantastic! Now, while it's not soaring into the stratosphere, the market is supporting more sales, so the rental opportunities are vanishing into thin air (case in point: the house I freaking live in; woot!)
And then there's the packing. Oh, the humanity! I am so over packing. And unpacking. Yes, the unpacking. And I"m not talking about unpacking in the new house, wherever it is, whenever we move into it. I"m talking about those last 3 boxes taunting me from the garage. The 3 boxes that never got unpacked from when we moved into this house. Boxes probably full of things I don't "need" (since I've not once gone digging through them in the past 2 years looking for anything), but that I am loathe to throw away. Certainly I don't "neeeeed" my grandmother's high school diploma, but dammit, it's history and all that! I can't throw it away. So I will cart it from house to house in a box that never gets unpacked for as long as I live, apparently.
Over the next couple of weeks my home is going to be reminiscent of one of those HGTV home organization shows where we go through every room and throw things into "trash" "yard sale" "pack" "donate" piles, minus the brash loud buxom host with a giant flower in her hair (does anyone remember that show?) This should be especially fun when we get to the play room area of the home. Ethan is what you might call a "hoarder" of toys. Everything is "special" and while he talks at great length about donating toys and periodically even goes through his stash and picks out things he thinks "some other little boy or girl might like," to give to Good Will, when push comes to shove, I have to remove things under cover of night or drop-off play date, or there are tears. I am hoping that the idea of making cold hard cash in exchange for hisbajillion trucks and 24-piece puzzles will foster his entrepreneurial spirit & he'll consent to clear out a good portion of the room. Otherwise, he's going to need his own U-Haul.
So I'm off to scour Craigslist. For houses. Again. Awesome.
4 comments:
Oh man! That stinks. I hope a newly renovated Craftsman bungalow with three bedrooms and a wine cellar and a Starbucks down the street magically pops up on Craigslist the second you open it.
I was gonna say some crap about how moving is an opportunity to organize and sort and blah blah blah, but that's crap. Moving blows. Ugh.
I feel your pain. I was so not into our last move, three times in four years is too many. The one bright note is that every time does get a little easier because you get rid of so much crap in those last packing days of "Passport? I don't need a passport! Bed? Who needs that crap!" that each time you move the load gets a little lighter. That's all I can think of. Otherwise, sucks.
xo
Kita
Oh, how I wish I lived near you and could come in and help again!
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