Friday, June 24, 2011

House for sale?

Let me just start by saying that if you are currently in the market to buy a house, I hate you. But to be fair, you deserve it.

We have been selling our house for two months now, and have showed it multiple times a week. Do the math, and it comes out to 4 billion times I have had to clean the house for all the dumb looky loos. Now don't get me wrong. I was excited the first 16 million times someone came to look at the house. I would vacuum, wipe, and scrub each time, just hoping that my efforts would pay off and some fortunate family would get the privilege of sharing the same home I once resided in. Fool.

Inevitably, people would come to look at the house the same time I was trying to round up my children and get out. What this means is that while I'm walking out the door I'm hearing things like, "Oh wow. I could never live with a kitchen like this..." or "How did they manage with this paint color? Yuck." Really lady? You're thinking my neutral paint color is yuck meanwhile I'm watching your nasty little 5 year old wipe his snotty nose on your mom jeans? I've got another definition of 'yuck' and it falls somewhere along the lines of your hair. Wash much?

Not to be a nasty, but selling our house has bridged the final gaps into my final metamorphosis of biotch. I hate home buyers. Everyone thinks they are looking for the equivalent of Oprah's house, but only willing to pay $100,000. The math doesn't add up, people.

And on that note, our house is currently under contract and we hope all goes well.

Also, I was feeding Chet some of Rip's old baby food when I got the crazy idea to check the expiration date. It hasn't even been a year since Rip was eating-but-not-actually-eating that crap, so I figured I was okay. So I take a glance and realize the expiration date was April. According to my calculations, that makes the sweet potatoes currently being digested/thrown up by Chet almost 4 months old. The truly interesting point in this story is that I checked the expiration date prior to feeding Chet. That's right. I fed him rotten food. And I feel pretty dang good about it. Awesome, in fact. Serves pukey right.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Advice

A word of advice?

If your husband runs up the stairs smiling and explains that he just sold his car and that it won't be a problem because he'll just work from home except maybe once a week, and it will kind of be nice living "the simple life," don't be a fool. There is nothing simple about being stuck at home with two babies for the fifth day in a row. See, he had some blah blah blah blah that he absolutely had to blah blah blah which means blah blah blah blah, which translates into your out of a car. Again. So don't let your husband pretend sharing a car between the two of you is an okay idea. It isn't. We are not pioneers (although I have a sneaking suspicion that pioneers did not have a car, let alone two cars so...). Or when he tells you he sold his car, you can say, "Oh good. Now you're going to take the bus! Go UTA!"

And if your husband decides to work from home every day, be prepared for the following:

  • Interrupted nap times. Husbands, at least mine, is utterly convinced that people enjoy falling asleep to him slamming doors, yelling, laughing boisterously on the phone, and or walking in and out of their rooms.

  • Hopeful lunch requests. Husbands, at least mine, figures I might as well make him lunch, since I'm already feeding two children plus myself. Uhh... no. When you're here and pretending you can't hear the baby crying in his crib, I'm here pretending I can't see you while I'm making lunch.


  • Advice on children?

    If your child begins rolling over, begin mourning. All rolling over means is that they are hereby forfeiting sleeping in order to roll over to the exact side they hate to sleep on (i.e. their back). Nevermind he has been able to roll over for two months, he is just now figuring out the advantages to never sleeping and mom looking at him like she would love nothing more than to leave him in an orphanage in Russia (see absolutely no advantage). I come in to find him screaming on his back, and he opens his bloodshot eyes to find me hovering anxiously over his crib, willing myself not to smother him.

    If your child still only has 4 teeth and will be two in three months, and you've been telling yourself that his crappy eating is due entirely to his lack of teeth, be prepared to be disappointed. It has nothing to do with his teeth and everything to do with his anorexia.

    So other than Chet not sleeping, Rip not eating, and me not having a car, things are pretty blissful around here. We still have not sold our house and I'm wondering if it has something to do with the fact that whenever we show the house, one of the looky loos wakes up Chet and I may or may not give them a look that could sear stone. I'll try to cut back, so long as they take my "One of the kids is asleep downstairs, so maybe just peek in the bedroom quietly and if you wake him up I will literally strangle you right here in front of your Realtor and her weird hair" more seriously. We'll see.