My Unborn Children's Unborn Children

When I met my husband, he owned two motorcycles, one SUV, and three houses. Well, one house and two condos, but still. And then, right before we got married, we bought another townhouse. We quickly sold one house, then sold another about a year later. So, as of February of 2009, we owned two condos, one that we lived in and one in an up-and-coming area of downtown.

In all this real estate buying and selling, I had very little to do with the process of it all. Husband sold two of the houses without my being involved because I wasn't around when he purchased them and therefore had no claim to them. I was around for the closing of the second condo, but because Husband had already been approved for the financing and was just waiting for them to finish building it; all I had to do was show up at the title office and sign my name 500 times. It seemed like such a decent, quick and painless procedure. Oh, how naive I was.

We have a contract on the house, and we're going through the arduous process leading up to closing. The first inspection was completed on Tuesday. Josh had warned me that there are a lot of things wrong with every house, and I thought I was prepared to see the report. But, oh, my. It was 24 pages of safety issues, problems, and -- gasp -- a recommendation for a structural engineer to look at the house. When I finished reading all 24 pages, I felt defeated. How could so many things be wrong with one house? How could a builder half finish something and feel good about himself? Why would you build a house that's quite obviously for a family and not want it to be safe?

And then I stopped listening to my Pauley-pessimist nature and took a deep breath. Not everyone is a perfectionist, and the world keeps turning. Everything is going to be okay.

Most of the things wrong with the house are aesthetic and easily fixable. Well, easily fixed by someone other than us. How I wish my Granddaddy were still around. He could fix all of this faster than he could say, "Aw, horse." We had a structural engineer look at the house, and he assured us that there is no reason whatsoever not to go ahead with the purchase.

In the midst of all this, we're trying to complete the mortgage application process in order to lock in the rate we want. For a week and a half, Josh was asking us to get a pre-approval letter to give to the sellers - basically, proof that we can actually pay for the house. And we are contractually obliged to give them this letter. I kept asking Husband to ask the mortgage lady, Josh was asking Husband, Husband said he was doing what he could. I finally took over the communication with the mortgage lady, and requested the letter. The e-mail I received in return was polite, but asked for so many things that I was stunned; I felt like she was asking for my unborn children's unborn children and their friends. I had already dropped off probably 70 pages worth of information at her office. Thinking she needed more was crazy. I start scrambling to find pieces of paper that I am positive Husband recycled months ago. But still I try.

After stressing about finding all this information, Husband realizes -- oh! He's had the pre-approval letter! For a week and a half! He just never opened the link! Huh. Who'da thunk?

And so we're plugging on, giving information about every part of our lives, and waiting impatiently for this process to be finished. We start the second round of negotiations this weekend, based on what we want them to fix before closing. I know this will all be worth it, but I'd feel a lot better about it all if I could shop. So far I have been amazed at my self-control; I haven't bought a single thing for the new house. I am constantly looking, but so far, no purchases. Be impressed.