Yeah, me neither.
Anyway, here's another mixed bag of my thoughts. Fair warning, I'm a bit whiny tonight.
My dad and Margaret's neighbor may have to sell their home because the husband's been laid off and the wife doesn't work (and no, she's not a stay at home mom... I said she doesn't work). The house is not fabulous, but it's in a decent neighborhood. They're selling it for about $20 grand more than we paid for this place. It would have been within our budget. Margaret said, "But it's small. It's the smallest one they made."
Yeah, but compared to this place, everything is small. And I would have been all for a smaller house with a small commute. And while there are innumberable downsides to living next door to my dad, can you imagine days like today? I stayed home because Tom spread his yucky germs. So he had to drop Madelyn off on his way to work... at 5:20 this morning... after a nearly hour-long drive. She and I could have slept in and then I could have just called Margaret and met her on the other side of the lawn. *sigh*
And let's just talk about baby logistics for a second. My plan is to give birth this time at the same place where I had Madelyn. That's about 50 miles from here. It's worth the hassle we may end up having because of the house we ended up choosing (which I do like most of the time), but Margaret's already making plans for me to stay with them as it gets closer for the baby to come. In seven months.
We will have a back up plan*, but the best hospital up here won't do a tubal ligation right after birth. I'd like to combine the pain and discomfort at once, if you don't mind. Plus, the other hospital is phenomenal. Madelyn spent four days in the NICU there** and we really trust them.
On the topic of being sick, I am. I have the coughing-est, no-face-covering-est husband in the west. I swear!
Dude, just because you closed your mouth hole doesn't mean things can't come out the nose holes. You're still breathing, right? Argh!
*Tomorrow night Corey has a banquet for band. We had to provide early childhood photos. Photos, especially those in albums, will be one of the last things unpacked around here. I see it happening in a year or two when we finally get to installing a built-in bookshelf/cabinet combo downstairs and a bookshelf/window seat upstairs. To minimize lifting any of the 15 heavy boxes of albums (thank you Grandma and Grandpa!), I opted for looking through Corey's box. It has all of the school assignments and art projects that A) show his personality and B) lasted long enough for me to remember to put them in the box. It also holds some of his treasures. As I was sifting through I came across a giant Mother's Day card that listed about seven things that made me a great mom. The first one? "She always has a Plan B." Mm-hmm. I believe he was four or five when that lesson was clearly instilled.
***On a side-side note, I like this card better than the one where he said "My mommy's the greatest because she takes me to my best store, Target. She loves the Red Hot Chili Peppers."
**Speaking of Mad and her story, I'm not even sure where I left off. I'll have to wrap that up before too much longer.
Back on the topic of being pregnant, my willingness to be diligent about my diet just isn't the same this time as it was with Madelyn. Oddly, and I may have mentioned this before, I associate this with the surprise nature of my pregnancy with Madelyn. We had agreed not to have any kids together and then I was pregnant. And we were both so freaking excited that I didn't want anything bad to happen more than the usual bit of concern and worrying. So it was extremely easy for me (about 90% of the time) to give up coffee and chocolate and iced tea and whatever else I shouldn't have been having.
Obviously I don't want anything bad to happen this time either, but I guess there's something this time that reminds me of being pregnant with Corey. After several miscarriages, I just came to a point where I knew he was going to be okay. I'm not exactly at that point with this one, but I'm a lot closer to relaxed than I am to constantly fretting. So the call of coffee and brie and turkey sandwiches is greater this time than it was before. I have to remind myself that I have decrepit eggs and that we are very lucky to be having a baby at all, and that I shouldn't be adding to the risk factors.
And following that stream of my (barely) consciousness*, I have the next part of the genetic risks testing next week. It's the nuchal scan, where they measure the thickness of the neck. I am a wee bit concerned that karma is gonna come after me. Why? One of the mommies in my group with Madelyn told me that she'd been pregnant once before with a son, but when they had the ultrasound he was deceased. I'm not sure why I prodded her to tell the story. It made us both uncomfortable and I don't think it helped her at all. So, you see... not quite so relaxed just yet. After Tuesday I will know more.
I can see I've spilled way more than intended here, but that's how it goes tonight.
Showing posts with label house. Show all posts
Showing posts with label house. Show all posts
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Monday, January 26, 2009
Fear
We are at a crossroads. We went out with Dave on Saturday and looked at 18 more houses. We had 26 on the list, but many of the ones we didn't see were short sales (which are anything but short when all is said and done). A few others had offers going and one (that I really wanted to see) has been recently thrashed. So with "only" 18 homes to check out, we had a little extra time to spend (ha!). Sort of. I taught that morning, so we didn't get up the hill until after 11:30.
We reviewed Dave's rules, but still ended up spending more time than we should have at the first house. I think it just had to do with it being the first house of the day. Oh, and there was a man and his teenaged daughter walking their dog. They stopped to speak with us, and I think they made the house more appealing than it really was. Once we got out of there, the next 10-12 houses were a bust. We never made it up the stairs in any of them. In some, just walking in and seeing that the "backyard slope" was really a wall of dirt taller than the eight foot high sliders was enough to send us right back out. As Dave said, "Why would you buy that house? Who the hell bought it to begin with? What were they thinking?"
Another house was too ornate inside. It reminded me of the homes I've visited of people I've met who are from Pakistan and Egypt; lovely, but certainly not my sensibility. Plus, there were two massive "sheds" built out back that were not complete, and based on the workmanship, proximity to the house and the fact that they blocked access to the air conditioning unit, not likely permitted either.
We did check out a couple of one-storey homes. They weren't bad. One would have definitely been in the running if it really had the four advertised bedrooms. The other was equally awesome, but up against a drainage ditch. In California these are cemented, so I'm not worried about erosion and sliding as much as that Corey would explore the length of it. And Mad has her own independent, somewhat feisty little spirit, too. We can't be sure she wouldn't scale that fence as soon as possible. She's just nine and a half months old and has already been taking her first unassisted steps for nearly a week. So a house with a drainage ditch? Out of the question.
Somewhere around three-quarters of the way through Saturday's agenda we finally started to find some decent homes. We had a run of good, better, best and hey, this wouldn't be too bad either! Once it was all over... around 4:00... we stopped for what turned out to be breakfast, lunch and dinner. We rehashed the possibilities, laid out a plan and went back to check out the two we were most interested in considering. They have been ranked as our number 1 and 1A choices. Number 1 is clearly better (brand new paint and carpet, but missing all appliances), but number 1A really only needs paint downstairs (why do so many people think that salmon is an appropriate color for a house? and what the hell is up with three shades of progressively worse/more neon salmon?) and to have a fence repaired. Plus it has a covered patio. We decided to put offers down on both of them and see what might stick.
Dave ran the comps and decided that we should offer about $6000 less than the asking price on each home. We heard from 1A this morning. They countered with a higher price, but said they'd pay closing costs. We have to decide by noon tomorrow.
Dave then caught up with the agent for house number one. They had an all cash offer, but it was lower than ours. He could let us know soon, possibly by Wednesday.
If you're going to have a worst case scenario, this is not a bad one to have. Say we take 1A while waiting one 1, are we then obligated to stick with our second choice if the first choice accepts our offer?
As we were debating the issue over Madelyn's playtime this evening, Dave called again. House 1 had countered... still well below asking, but they'd only pay 3% toward closing costs. It means putting about $3000 more out at the onset than we were expecting. It's not impossible to gather the money together, but we still have to buy a new stove, oven, dishwasher and window coverings. Ack! We want this house, but what are we willing to give up to get it?
A little, but not much, is the answer. My brilliant husband has countered their counter, saying we'll pay an additional $2000 if they'll pay another percent toward closing (which should just about cover it). We'll submit the offer en la manana and should hopefully find out mas rapido. The bank wants a shorter escrow of 30 days, but we're also asking for 36 days to give our broker enough time to get everything done on our end.
Please keep your fingers crossed, put good thoughts in your hearts and wish us the best. We might actually be able to do this.
We reviewed Dave's rules, but still ended up spending more time than we should have at the first house. I think it just had to do with it being the first house of the day. Oh, and there was a man and his teenaged daughter walking their dog. They stopped to speak with us, and I think they made the house more appealing than it really was. Once we got out of there, the next 10-12 houses were a bust. We never made it up the stairs in any of them. In some, just walking in and seeing that the "backyard slope" was really a wall of dirt taller than the eight foot high sliders was enough to send us right back out. As Dave said, "Why would you buy that house? Who the hell bought it to begin with? What were they thinking?"
Another house was too ornate inside. It reminded me of the homes I've visited of people I've met who are from Pakistan and Egypt; lovely, but certainly not my sensibility. Plus, there were two massive "sheds" built out back that were not complete, and based on the workmanship, proximity to the house and the fact that they blocked access to the air conditioning unit, not likely permitted either.
We did check out a couple of one-storey homes. They weren't bad. One would have definitely been in the running if it really had the four advertised bedrooms. The other was equally awesome, but up against a drainage ditch. In California these are cemented, so I'm not worried about erosion and sliding as much as that Corey would explore the length of it. And Mad has her own independent, somewhat feisty little spirit, too. We can't be sure she wouldn't scale that fence as soon as possible. She's just nine and a half months old and has already been taking her first unassisted steps for nearly a week. So a house with a drainage ditch? Out of the question.
Somewhere around three-quarters of the way through Saturday's agenda we finally started to find some decent homes. We had a run of good, better, best and hey, this wouldn't be too bad either! Once it was all over... around 4:00... we stopped for what turned out to be breakfast, lunch and dinner. We rehashed the possibilities, laid out a plan and went back to check out the two we were most interested in considering. They have been ranked as our number 1 and 1A choices. Number 1 is clearly better (brand new paint and carpet, but missing all appliances), but number 1A really only needs paint downstairs (why do so many people think that salmon is an appropriate color for a house? and what the hell is up with three shades of progressively worse/more neon salmon?) and to have a fence repaired. Plus it has a covered patio. We decided to put offers down on both of them and see what might stick.
Dave ran the comps and decided that we should offer about $6000 less than the asking price on each home. We heard from 1A this morning. They countered with a higher price, but said they'd pay closing costs. We have to decide by noon tomorrow.
Dave then caught up with the agent for house number one. They had an all cash offer, but it was lower than ours. He could let us know soon, possibly by Wednesday.
If you're going to have a worst case scenario, this is not a bad one to have. Say we take 1A while waiting one 1, are we then obligated to stick with our second choice if the first choice accepts our offer?
As we were debating the issue over Madelyn's playtime this evening, Dave called again. House 1 had countered... still well below asking, but they'd only pay 3% toward closing costs. It means putting about $3000 more out at the onset than we were expecting. It's not impossible to gather the money together, but we still have to buy a new stove, oven, dishwasher and window coverings. Ack! We want this house, but what are we willing to give up to get it?
A little, but not much, is the answer. My brilliant husband has countered their counter, saying we'll pay an additional $2000 if they'll pay another percent toward closing (which should just about cover it). We'll submit the offer en la manana and should hopefully find out mas rapido. The bank wants a shorter escrow of 30 days, but we're also asking for 36 days to give our broker enough time to get everything done on our end.
Please keep your fingers crossed, put good thoughts in your hearts and wish us the best. We might actually be able to do this.
Monday, January 05, 2009
The Lair
Allow me to give you a tour of our home as it is right now. Before I start, let me preface this by saying that I loved this place when we found it... and have argued with Tom (lovingly, of course) about not needing more room ever since. But that was before La Madelyn.
Come into our front yard. On the right is a grassy... well, grass... surrounded on the perimeter by tons of ferns, lavender (from our wedding) and rosemary. A few other plants are dotted here and there, and a huge palm tree stands in the front corner. On the left is our nod to the desert in which we do dwell. Succulents, including a couple of gorgeous aloe plants, fill the area that had once been covered with those hideous garden rocks. It took Corey and I the better part of a summer to sift rocks from dirt. The rocks have since found new homes with various friends and family members. Where the two rose bushes once stood (I had to get rid of them... Mom's house has 32 rose bushes and I was in charge of them when we lived with her), is now a triumphant Mexican sage plant. It's beautiful even as it is in desperate need of some cutting back. The yard isn't huge, but it's been manageable for us, as well as a lot of fun.
Come, into the lair. Open the front door and you'll find our living room. It's not that large, but that didn't stop us from putting in a couch, two big chairs, an entertainment center (which, okay, we got from my dad because I couldn't say no even thought there was no room... and I'm so looking forward to it not fitting in our new place), four bookcases, and a table that is meant to go behind a couch, but is up against a wall instead. The trunk that used to be our coffee table is now an end table so Mad has room to play.
Should you choose to go straight from the front to the back of our apartment, you'll run into a double-sided fireplace. So cool, now if only we could burn any of the wood we have stacked up in the backyard without smoking ourselves out. Leaning up against the fireplace is a seven-foot long box with rails for when Mad's crib becomes a full-sized bed. When'll that be? Oh, probably three or four years from now, but where else it gonna go? On the other side of that is our dining room... with all the standard accoutrements and another bookcase.
On either side of the living room are bedrooms. Corey's (with the sliced screen on one window) is on the left. It's huge and made larger by the fact that his dresser is in the closet (why pretend he'll hang something up?). If we had two kids of the same age and gender, it'd be perfect. It has a full bathroom in it. Never, and I do repeat NEVER give a teen boy a bathroom in his room.
On the right is our bedroom. Also large. And it's a good thing, too, because here's the layout (counterclockwise from the door):
Our ginormous dresser, Mad's ridiculously small dresser (who thought a baby's clothes would fit in there?) and a writing desk (currently serving as a changing table). Turn the corner, there's the stack of boxes of clothes Mad has already outgrown, a nightstand and our bed, with the crib down at the foot. Along the next wall? Why there's a bookcase with Mad's library, naturally, and a small table with our alarm clock... conveniently out of reach so we have to get out of bed to turn it off.
The fourth wall is comprised of our walk-in closet (AKA "storage") and our bathroom. The tile in the bathroom, including the shower, are original... some 45 years of bad taste and mediocre workmanship. The tub has been scrubbed and bleached and even scraped, but nothing aside from replacing it will make it look like new. There is no vent in the bathroom. There's a window, which we can't leave open... not for burglars, per se, but because Corey has repeatedly gotten into our locked room this way. So every 18 months, I paint.
Back to the dining room area; on the left is a "den" and 1/2 bath. In the closet is a wet bar, which confirms the 1960's-ness of the whole place. I am sitting here, nursing Madelyn and typing, surrounded by camping gear, cooking equipment, most of my grandparents' photo albums and assorted stuff. To the right of the dining room is the world's smallest kitchen. It's so small we frequently wonder who thought it was a good idea to block off cabinets that we desperately need with a washing machine (the dryer is on the back patio... no, it doesn't make sense, but we don't have to lug laundry, so we don't complain). If we have the dishwasher open, we cannot open the fridge all the way. The tile counters are a pale, but not pretty yellow. Sort of a grayish yellow. Also original, with original grout as best I can tell.
Out back is a 5-6 foot wide swath of concrete that runs the length of our place. It is used for the grill, recycling (which piles up a lot more now that Tom's driving the truck) and our dryer.
That's home. For now. Sure, we have more bathrooms than we need (okay, sometimes it's not so bad with all the non-diapered people having a place to go... after a long road trip, for example), but we have so little storage that we have to go grocery shopping about twice as often as we should. Or we buy everything we need and then just leave it in the bags on the floor between the living and dining rooms. That's attractive.
So what do we want? It's so funny that you should ask. The answer to that question has changed considerably over the past two months since we began this journey.
Before:
"You know, 1600 square feet would sure be nice. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a decent kitchen. Good plumbing, solid electric and a tile roof would complete the package, even if we had to do some minor repairs here and there. A garage or, heck, a carport would be so nice!"
***Perhaps I should have clarified before what. Two of my sisters live in the High Desert. One of them... the one who looks like a 40's pinup girl... lives in a more rural area so she can raise chickens and goats (not even kidding). The other lives in a fairly new development. A few homes are in foreclosure and one caught her eye. 2400 square feet, four years old, great condition, 4 bedrooms, three bathrooms, fireplace, blah blah blah... $87,000. Naturally it was in escrow by the time we heard about it. And nothing remotely close to that price has popped up again, but even doubling that amount it's a good deal.
So then:
"1800 square feet, 4 and 2, big kitchen with lots of storage and room for our big new refrigerator. Solid plumbing, electric and tile roof. A nice-sized back yard would be nice, wouldn't it?"
And then (after spending a day looking at a few homes up there and seeing what's available):
"2000 square feet is probably as small as we'd want to go, especially if we do decide to have another baby. Four bedrooms is good, but if we want to have guests, we'll need five... and what about an office/library? A cul-de-sac would be lovely."
To:
"I'm not sure why we'd go smaller than 2700 square feet. The kitchen can't have white tile or linoleum, and it needs a walk-in pantry. 4-6 bedrooms in a move-in ready, inside-corner lot on a cul-de-sac. 2-3 car garage. Oh, and can we get the laundry room upstairs? Because the one-storey houses look like retirement homes, so we really can't consider those. Thank you."
So we sat back in open-mouthed shock and disgust during the past few years when people paid more money for houses than they should have... and especially at those people who bought more house than they should have, and yet here we are. Thank god we're not looking at glass houses.
Come into our front yard. On the right is a grassy... well, grass... surrounded on the perimeter by tons of ferns, lavender (from our wedding) and rosemary. A few other plants are dotted here and there, and a huge palm tree stands in the front corner. On the left is our nod to the desert in which we do dwell. Succulents, including a couple of gorgeous aloe plants, fill the area that had once been covered with those hideous garden rocks. It took Corey and I the better part of a summer to sift rocks from dirt. The rocks have since found new homes with various friends and family members. Where the two rose bushes once stood (I had to get rid of them... Mom's house has 32 rose bushes and I was in charge of them when we lived with her), is now a triumphant Mexican sage plant. It's beautiful even as it is in desperate need of some cutting back. The yard isn't huge, but it's been manageable for us, as well as a lot of fun.
Come, into the lair. Open the front door and you'll find our living room. It's not that large, but that didn't stop us from putting in a couch, two big chairs, an entertainment center (which, okay, we got from my dad because I couldn't say no even thought there was no room... and I'm so looking forward to it not fitting in our new place), four bookcases, and a table that is meant to go behind a couch, but is up against a wall instead. The trunk that used to be our coffee table is now an end table so Mad has room to play.
Should you choose to go straight from the front to the back of our apartment, you'll run into a double-sided fireplace. So cool, now if only we could burn any of the wood we have stacked up in the backyard without smoking ourselves out. Leaning up against the fireplace is a seven-foot long box with rails for when Mad's crib becomes a full-sized bed. When'll that be? Oh, probably three or four years from now, but where else it gonna go? On the other side of that is our dining room... with all the standard accoutrements and another bookcase.
On either side of the living room are bedrooms. Corey's (with the sliced screen on one window) is on the left. It's huge and made larger by the fact that his dresser is in the closet (why pretend he'll hang something up?). If we had two kids of the same age and gender, it'd be perfect. It has a full bathroom in it. Never, and I do repeat NEVER give a teen boy a bathroom in his room.
On the right is our bedroom. Also large. And it's a good thing, too, because here's the layout (counterclockwise from the door):
Our ginormous dresser, Mad's ridiculously small dresser (who thought a baby's clothes would fit in there?) and a writing desk (currently serving as a changing table). Turn the corner, there's the stack of boxes of clothes Mad has already outgrown, a nightstand and our bed, with the crib down at the foot. Along the next wall? Why there's a bookcase with Mad's library, naturally, and a small table with our alarm clock... conveniently out of reach so we have to get out of bed to turn it off.
The fourth wall is comprised of our walk-in closet (AKA "storage") and our bathroom. The tile in the bathroom, including the shower, are original... some 45 years of bad taste and mediocre workmanship. The tub has been scrubbed and bleached and even scraped, but nothing aside from replacing it will make it look like new. There is no vent in the bathroom. There's a window, which we can't leave open... not for burglars, per se, but because Corey has repeatedly gotten into our locked room this way. So every 18 months, I paint.
Back to the dining room area; on the left is a "den" and 1/2 bath. In the closet is a wet bar, which confirms the 1960's-ness of the whole place. I am sitting here, nursing Madelyn and typing, surrounded by camping gear, cooking equipment, most of my grandparents' photo albums and assorted stuff. To the right of the dining room is the world's smallest kitchen. It's so small we frequently wonder who thought it was a good idea to block off cabinets that we desperately need with a washing machine (the dryer is on the back patio... no, it doesn't make sense, but we don't have to lug laundry, so we don't complain). If we have the dishwasher open, we cannot open the fridge all the way. The tile counters are a pale, but not pretty yellow. Sort of a grayish yellow. Also original, with original grout as best I can tell.
Out back is a 5-6 foot wide swath of concrete that runs the length of our place. It is used for the grill, recycling (which piles up a lot more now that Tom's driving the truck) and our dryer.
That's home. For now. Sure, we have more bathrooms than we need (okay, sometimes it's not so bad with all the non-diapered people having a place to go... after a long road trip, for example), but we have so little storage that we have to go grocery shopping about twice as often as we should. Or we buy everything we need and then just leave it in the bags on the floor between the living and dining rooms. That's attractive.
So what do we want? It's so funny that you should ask. The answer to that question has changed considerably over the past two months since we began this journey.
Before:
"You know, 1600 square feet would sure be nice. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a decent kitchen. Good plumbing, solid electric and a tile roof would complete the package, even if we had to do some minor repairs here and there. A garage or, heck, a carport would be so nice!"
***Perhaps I should have clarified before what. Two of my sisters live in the High Desert. One of them... the one who looks like a 40's pinup girl... lives in a more rural area so she can raise chickens and goats (not even kidding). The other lives in a fairly new development. A few homes are in foreclosure and one caught her eye. 2400 square feet, four years old, great condition, 4 bedrooms, three bathrooms, fireplace, blah blah blah... $87,000. Naturally it was in escrow by the time we heard about it. And nothing remotely close to that price has popped up again, but even doubling that amount it's a good deal.
So then:
"1800 square feet, 4 and 2, big kitchen with lots of storage and room for our big new refrigerator. Solid plumbing, electric and tile roof. A nice-sized back yard would be nice, wouldn't it?"
And then (after spending a day looking at a few homes up there and seeing what's available):
"2000 square feet is probably as small as we'd want to go, especially if we do decide to have another baby. Four bedrooms is good, but if we want to have guests, we'll need five... and what about an office/library? A cul-de-sac would be lovely."
To:
"I'm not sure why we'd go smaller than 2700 square feet. The kitchen can't have white tile or linoleum, and it needs a walk-in pantry. 4-6 bedrooms in a move-in ready, inside-corner lot on a cul-de-sac. 2-3 car garage. Oh, and can we get the laundry room upstairs? Because the one-storey houses look like retirement homes, so we really can't consider those. Thank you."
So we sat back in open-mouthed shock and disgust during the past few years when people paid more money for houses than they should have... and especially at those people who bought more house than they should have, and yet here we are. Thank god we're not looking at glass houses.
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