If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you probably know that selling our house and buying a new one is something we've been working toward for a long long time. And if you've been paying attention, we've given this house a lot of TLC.
So FINALLY, FINALLY finally finally, we and the house were ready and we called a realtor.
We met with said realtor and they came to take pictures.
Last week? We had seven showings.
Instead, we had showings 5, 6 & 7 and I spent the afternoon entertaining the kids out of the house.
Coming home late Sunday afternoon I was exhausted. Our house had been on the market for just over a week and I was beginning to think the selling process just might kill me. The boys took late naps and I finally got my TV time.
It was 9:00 and the boys were still up cuz of those late late naps when the phone rang.
WE HAD AN OFFER.
The buyer hadn't even seen the upper flat of the duplex yet.
We made arrangements for the potential buyers to come through and see the upper on Tuesday afternoon (9/22), the same day Jay and I went looking at houses for the first time.
We left a counter offer where the buyer-to-be's realtor could see it -- and before we got home that evening we had confirmation they had signed it.
WE HAVE AN ACCEPTED OFFER. AFTER ELEVEN DAYS.
The catch? Closing is set for October 27. THIRTY-TWO DAYS FROM TODAY.
[Insert heavy curse-laden freak-out here.]
Oh? And by the way? Every home we saw the other day was pretty much crap.
Oh and by the way by the way? Jay now works the entire weekend, including his split double on Saturday.
I know, I know. Selling your house is the hard part. Right? But we now have an ENTIRE house to pack up in a month's time, AND we have to find a place to stay until we find that new home of our dreams. I haven't rented in so long...is it even possible to find a place on this short of notice? And can you rent for a month at a time? And will I actually have any hair left after this entire thing is over?
Somebody hold me.
So here's the real fairytale part: Tuesday afternoon, before the freak-outed-ness settled upon me, I was sitting at work counting down the minutes until the end of my work day, when we could finally start looking for our dream house. Hubster called.
"Can you turn on FM106?" were the first words out of his mouth.
"Uh, yeah. Why?" Leaning back, I turned the volume up on my radio.
"Cuz I played a song for you."
"No you didn't." I mean, people don't really do that, do they? Other than those saps who call Delilah on Saturday nights.
"Yes I did."
And just then I found the station. The song we danced our first dance to at our wedding was playing. And I got tears in my eyes. "No you didn't."
"I didn't think they'd play it so quickly. I mean, I thought we'd be driving together when it came up, so you missed part of it, but well, I had them play it for you. Cuz I love you and I meant it when I promised you that you'd have the house you deserve some day."
Oh my God -- big sappy girl tears.
Take notes from him, boys. Take notes.