The Quest for a New Home

In 1996, right after Tim and I were married, we moved into our first house. One we built from scratch, with our own two hands(Ok, maybe it was the hands of a builder and many contractors, but Tim did nail in a roof tile or two). This house isn't just a house...it's our home. A home that we brought all our babies home to. A home where we celebrated our babies first birthdays and so many other memories. {{Mush. Mush. Sap. Sap.}} The place where I started this blog that lights up the lives of so many people on a daily basis. {{Givin' myself a little ego boost if you don't mind.}} This is our home...the home that is less than 1400 sq ft. A home where 3 little girls live in less than 1400 sq ft. A home that Tim has to share with 4 women, in less than 1400 sq ft. A home, that sadly, we have out grown.

Tim and I were going to stay here forever. We love this house. We really do. For years we said, "We're going to stay here forever. We love this house. This house is our home." {Just wondering if you've figured out that we love this house and this house is our HOME, yet?} But, as time went along, our family grew. Our kids grew. And the house, well, the house shrunk. Next thing we know we had a pre-teen who needed her "own" space, a little one who also needs her own space, because she's 2 ('nuff said, right?), and a 7 year old who has to sleep in the bathtub because her sister's require their own space, and we don't want her in our bed, either. We've run out of room here. It was time to move on.

I came to realize that we wouldn't be here forever and I was READY to move on! Bring it, Baby! This past October, we listed our house. We started doing almost (I say almost because it's impossible to do it all!) everything our fabulous, award winning Realtor (just in case he reads this), told us to do. I started taking down all the pictures of my babies that have hung on the walls for years. With every picture I took down, I shed about a million tears. I had no idea how bittersweet it would be. Something that I wanted so bad was happening and it actually hurt! I wanted to have a tantrum and say, "I CHANGED MY MIND! I'M NOT LEAVING! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!!" (As if someone was forcing me...) But I knew it was just my female emotions and I kept reminding myself this was best for us. Best for our family. {{Mushy-mush again}} Maybe, if I had my own space where I could get dressed without an audience and little ones pointing out my every flaw, I would be a little less grumpy. Maybe if we had a house where each girl could have their own room, bedtime would be a little less painful. Maybe if we had a little extra space where the kids could drag their junk, rather than to the living room or my bedroom, we would have less twisted ankles. Maybe...just maybe.

So, the sign went up and I was excited. Tim was a little reluctant to sell until we had a place to go, so we listed it a little too high, so we wouldn't get any offers. Tim didn't say that, but I know that's what he was thinking. {{What a great strategy, right? I'm totally rolling my eyes when I say that.}} But, have you ever tried to sell a house while you're living with a bunch of pigs? T-O-R-T-U-R-E. Wait...I need to rephrase that...have you ever tried having a house listed (because we weren't really trying to sell it) while living with a bunch of pigs? It ain't easy. It seemed like at at a moments notice, someone would want to show it and I would have to tie up the kids to keep them from undoing all the cleaning I was doing, then load everyone up and find some place to go, so some strangers could walk through my house and NOT buy it. In the meantime, we were also on the hunt for our new home....

We looked at only 3 houses before we found "the one". The "Pot House" on Bonita. We met our Realtor to look at this house we had our eyes on for years. It was on the market a couple years earlier and we just assumed it sold. We pulled up outside, with all 3 kids in tow. (Have you ever tried LOOKING at houses with 3 kids? That's a complete blog post in itself!) Anyway...We get out of the car and she says, "The tenants are here and his wife just got home from the doctor, so she's in bed." WHAT?!?! Are you serious? Super weird!! And...EEEEWWWWW!!! But we went in anyway. As soon as I walked in the door, despite the creepy guy on the couch, I felt this calm come over me. I was home. It was literally that, "Ahhhhhhh..." feeling. Then Tim came in behind me and, if I remember correctly, I think he actually sighed out loud. He felt it, too. We proceeded into the kitchen that had been completely remodeled and I felt it again...and into the laundry area and so on. We moved from room to room and, even in the current master bedroom where the icky woman was laying in bed, I STILL felt at home (however it was a little strange seeing the icky woman in my room). Oh, and the house was a complete disaster. There were dog pins in the dining room (note: dog pins in the dining room. Eewwww!) and you couldn't even see the floor in the kids rooms. Then there was the weird smell throughout the house. The dogs perhaps? I mean...there were dog pins in the DINING ROOM. (Can you tell that bugged me a bit?) But I still just felt this calm about me, despite the mess. I honestly didn't care. We walked into the converted garage where there was a bed and TV in a small open space and a huge room in the middle of the room. It was "storage" he said. And it was locked. "Oh, sorry. That's my nephew's room and we haven't seen him in like 3 weeks. He has the key. But, um, yeah. It's just storage." A little strange because it was the biggest part of the room. A room, inside the room. But whatever...we could deal with that. It had a small bathroom so we were already planning our remodel into the new master suite. We head out to the backyard and there was that sigh again. A beautiful new pool and all kinds of room for the kids and the dogs. We. Were. Home. As we walk back in, Tim leans in to the Realtor and asks, "What is that smell?" She responds..."Do you want the truth?" Tim: "UM...yeah." Realtor: "I think he's growing pot and that's why we can't get in that "storage" room." WHAT?!?! OMGeeee!! We just drug our kids through a pot house!!! No wonder I was so CALM!! I was high!!! (For the record, I'm aware you can't get high off the smell of growing MaryJane.) We just walked through a pot house. I've never even actually seen pot in real life. As far as I know, that's the closest I've ever been to it. (I know. I know. I'm so perfect. But I won't rub it in.) Wow. That was...interesting. But, we had fallen in love, none the less. We were hooked. (He!He!) We found our home. The "pot house". We headed out the front door and thanked the pothead for letting us in.

When we got home, we had to clear our heads. "If it was just a little less...but we really can't at that price," Tim said. Excuse me, honey...You can find me in my very public master bedroom sobbing into my pillow. The next day, Tim went out of town for a few days and when he came back, the first thing he did was get on MLS. Next thing I know, I hear him on the phone with our Realtor...the price for the "pot house" had dropped $98,000. Are you kidding me?!?! $98,000!!! You can't be serious! Someone hacked into the system and is totally messing with us right now. Do they know what they're doing to us?!?! Draw up the papers, Baby! We're makin' an offer!! We literally thought about it for about, um, 1/2 a second. There was no question that we had to jump on it before someone else did. Initial here. Sign here. Bam! It's done. We just made an offer on the "pot house". I thought about asking for the contents of "the" room. I am a stay at home mom, after all, and I could probably have myself a little home business...possible enough to pay the mortgage. Maybe have home parties and stuff...sort of like those new "botox parties", or whatever they're called. In fact, maybe we could combine the two..."Come get high before you get injected with poison!" But, neh...I thought it might make it a little harder to get it that price, so I let it go.

Moving on (ha! 'moving on' and I'm talking about moving. I didn't even catch that until I was proof reading!)...This house was a short sale...and has quite the back story. I'd tell you the story, but I've told it so much, I'm sort of sick of it...so too bad for you! But the "short sale" part...ugh. Have you ever been through a short sale? I DO NOT recommend it unless you don't really care how long it takes and you don't mind your dreams being crushed if it falls through. It's already been 3 months since we made the offer and still...NOTHING. My heart aches for my home. It's now empty (yeah, he took the pot) and I drive by longing to water the plants and pull the weeds (and I don't even do that here). Would it be weird to do yard work on house that is empty and doesn't belong to me?

In the meantime, we've looked at countless other homes. Our poor Realtor probably hates us. Nothing measures up to the "pot house". I have yet to walk into a house and feel that "sigh" I felt when I stepped foot in it. I had no idea that trying to find a new home was so difficult and defeating. I suppose for most people it's not quite so daunting, but for us it is. We're not the type of people to settle for something. It has to be perfect. It must have 4 bedrooms, 2-3 baths, bonus room, preferably custom, a pool in a decent yard and in an established neighborhood, on a budget of about $5. Did you know that most people that live in custom homes in established neighborhoods built the house and live there until they DIE? Or they want about a million dollars for it? We have about $5 to spend. Not exactly ideal circumstances.

Yesterday I looked at 5 houses. Yes...FIVE. I walked into one that got a very small "sigh" from me, but only had 3 bedrooms. Deal breaker. Not even worth sharing with Tim. I think I've come to the conclusion that we need to just stop looking until we know what's going to happen with the "pot house". Every time I walk into a house, I think, "Hum...maybe. But what if the 'pot house' comes through and we've settled for this..." Then again, what if I pass up another house that has that "Ahhhhh..." feeling because I'm waiting for this one? I think I need therapy.

We've since taken our house off the market until we know we have a new home to go to. I love my motor home, but I love to call it my vacation home...not home sweet home. Even though I did shed some tears over that decision, too, because again...I felt defeated. Like we were giving up, but then I realized...I don't have to clean my house anymore, so maybe it's not so bad.

I felt the need to blog about this because it's such a huge part of my life right now. Every evening I get online and look for new listings that might suit us. I look through my "pot house" pictures, that I took after a walk through we did after they moved out. {{OMGee...you were totally thinking I was snapping pictures of the house while the people lived there and I had a picture of the icky chick in bed and the creepy guy on the couch, huh?}} I spend hours debating weather we should keep the pot room and make use of it or rip it out and make it our master suite. Then a few more hours designing my master suite. I plan pool party after pool party in my beautiful backyard and planning the meals I'll prepare in my newly remodeled kitchen (ok...figuring out where I'm going to take the food out of the take out boxes and put them on plates). It's an obsession, ok? Deal with it.

P.S. Must clarify: I mentioned at the beginning of this story that our Realtor was a "he" and later that "she" was showing us the house. We have a "team" of Realtors. "He" is "the man". "She" is the one we work directly with.