For a Few Former Facebook Friends

They're still real friends... they just miss the baby pictures (hi, Sheena!). All of these were taken by my father-in-law. I promise I'll figure out a way to get my pictures on here. Patience is a virtue.

I think it was about 7:45 in the morning when this was taken.

I really love this picture; it was taken on Wednesday afternoon. Little goofballs.

Elijah & my in-laws' dog, Stoney.

And one last picture, but it's not the baby -- It's Josh and Husband putting up the Paris map in our newly painted living room. Yay for art on the walls! After 3 years! And right before we move!

Great Room, Batman!

They're painting our great room.

As excited as I am about this prospect -- I'm still wondering why I didn't do this three years ago when we moved in -- I feel totally displaced from our house and routine. The dogs are freaking out because their spot by the fireplace is gone, the baby is frustrated because he's not getting his morning t.v. while I clean up the kitchen and put in some laundry*, and I am forced to sit in the playroom and think of all the things I could be doing if there weren't three (very nice) men in my living room.

I'm actually really excited about having a room that looks completed. The walls will be done, I'll rehang the curtains, and I'll finally get the ENORMOUS map of Paris up on the wall so it won't look like a giant waste of space (which it is).

I'll post pictures when they're done.

*I am a really good mom. But sometimes Manny, Oso, and Mickey can give him things I can't. Or rather, they can give me things I couldn't otherwise have. Like an hour of sanity while cleaning.

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.

Acceptance Feels Good

They accepted our counter-counter offer, so it's [almost] official -- we're getting the house! Barring some unforeseen terror with the inspection or a natural disaster, we will close at the end of March and take possession on June 1 (well, technically at 5 p.m. on May 31, but whatever). Part of the counter-counter was that we close in 60 days and then the owner will rent it back from us for another 60; that way, we lock in a great interest rate, they don't have to move their kids halfway through the school year, and we get enough time to sell our current townhouse.

Anyone looking to buy a 4 bed, 3 1/2 bath townhouse? It's 3,300 square feet. It comes with a media room with a projector and possible [probable] dog pee stains (I think I've found them all, but how can you really be sure?).

Anyway, we're excited. Bring on the buyers!

The Culling

It has begun. If I were pregnant, I would say I was nesting, but right now we'll call it action fueled by an intense fear of becoming my parents.

Lately my mother has been calling me regularly to ask if I want something; two days ago it was a text about my prom champagne glasses (yes, but only because Husband loves sparkling wine), and today it was a phone call about the 50+ coffee mugs she and my dad have acquired over their 38+ years together. They used to collect them, and while I was growing up they lined the tops of our cabinets, cheerily bearing witness to all the places any of us had ever been. It's just been in the last house that they moved to in 2001 that the mugs went into a storage cabinet and haven't seen the light of day. I impolitely declined, and suggested that she dispose of them quickly and painlessly.

It's not that I don't love the thought of those mugs; I do. But after at least five towns and who knows how many houses (I don't even think Mom remembers anymore), my parents have collected so much junk that they don't even know where to put it all. There are boxes in their house that I'm pretty sure were packed in 1987 and haven't been opened since, just staying hidden move after move. And that's why I've begun to clear out my own things -- I'm terrified that the same thing will happen to me. What started as a way to make my house look better to potential buyers has turned into an all-out war against clutter.

I started last Friday with my linen closet, and as of today, I have finished my section of the closet (where I found a huge stack of wedding thank-you notes that never got written. Do you think they still want one after 3 years? It might be funny to send them now, but I doubt I still have the addresses. Or the desire). I have probably 5 shopping bags full and ready to go to Goodwill; my criteria for keeping and giving away (a few things got trashed, but not much) was this: Have I worn it this winter? Keep. Will I/am I capable of wearing it this winter? If yes, Keep. If no, give away. Honestly, there were a few sweaters I was sad to see go, but really, if I haven't worn it yet, I'm not going to. Because let's be honest - I'm probably only getting fatter.

But this was the saddest sight to me:

I don't wear very many pairs of shoes. I typically have 3 pairs that get rotated regularly. But I love having options, and there's something about a beautiful pair of heels that just makes the world beautiful. Like these, which I bought 3 years ago this month on clearance at Macy's. I have worn them twice (I think; it's possible that it's only once).

I put them on and danced around the bathroom a little bit before putting them into the Goodwill pile. Sadly, pregnancy made my feet grow by a half size, so after just a few minutes I was ready to take them off. If you're a 7 1/2 and want them, just ask.


I cleared out the door and the floor racks and decided that having as many as filled up the floor rack was probably still too many, but I'd stick to it. And I did.

And here are the sad, lonely friends heading off to Goodwill and hopefully a good home.

Molly, if you want your black Pumas back, now is the time to speak up.

The rest of this week, I'll be working on the storage room downstairs and the guest room closet, both of which are super small projects, but if I tell myself I only have to get those done, I'll feel like a good worker when they're finished by Wednesday. But the biggest project for the week, the one that requires my locking Husband in the bedroom and not letting him out, is this:

Those two drawers sticking out the furthest? All SOCKS. When I told him he should get rid of some, he said, "Nonsense. The drawers are just too small." I told him he had two options: he does it, or I do. It's the first time he's ever volunteered to clean anything. Probably in his life. And, just so you know, because Husband works for an internet company, I decided to keep his name out of it. The last thing his clients need to see when searching for their new rep is this:

Yes, that is a shirt from "The Incredible Shrinking Woman."

Oh, and about the house - they countered, we counter-countered, and we're all guessing that we should be at a decision by tomorrow. So... it's (almost) official. We probably won't close until May, but we're moving! To a giant house. That I have to fill with furniture. And decorate. I think I've lost my mind a little.