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February 05, 2007
In Which I Force Myself to Have a Good, Gracious Attitude
There are good things afoot. For example, I knitted a heel today for the very first time:
Now, I just need to wrap my poor little brain around how to do the rest of the foot, which I'm sure is going to make me cry before it's all said and done.
We're getting lots of stuff done on the house. Last night, B. caulked the bathtub, and it's lovely. Granted, it wasn't so lovely at midnight when Clara Jane commenced profuse vomiting. Three human beings in this house, all of them with puke on their persons, and not a single shower to be had because the caulk must cure.
Clara Jane's fine. It was just an ugly snot-gagging incident. We all bathed this morning. I resisted the urge to scrub my entire body with Borax because let me tell you, the scent of milk-filled toddler vomit on skin does not improve with six hours of sleep under flannel sheets and a down comforter.
What better to do with a kid who spent the night puking than go out in the six-degree snowy day for coffee? I'm a great mom. She's not contagious, I swear, and trust me, she was better off in the elements than she was cooped up in this house with her mother bouncing around like a spider monkey. Waiting for real estate news will do that to you. There's a lot to be said about going to the coffeehouse, turning the kiddo loose, and talking with the moms who are becoming familiar. It's worth frostbite.
Oh, real estate news. I'm sure that's why you're reading, right?
The sellers rejected our offer for two very silly reasons. We're not sure why this happened, but we have several theories:
1) They're complete idiots who don't know a good offer when it smacks them across the face, which is what I'd really like to do right now.
2) They're stalling in hopes that we'll wait until their contract with their agent expires and they won't have to pay commission.
3) They're evil.
4) They can taste our desperate love for their house and they love to lap it up like the hellhounds they are.
5) They've found my blog and are denying us the house because I just called them hellhounds and mentioned inflicting bodily harm on them.
6) They don't really want to sell. They simply enjoy fucking people up.
Never fear. We're renegotiating, which emphasizes my fourth point. I don't care. At this point, just give me the damn house on your crazy terms. We can take it. Just don't be suprised if, the second the ink's on the contract at closing, I punch you in your faces.
That last paragraph probably doesn't increase my chances, either. In fact, I hear St. Joe weeping, and I think he's going to hit me with a hammer while I sleep tonight.
It's been a long 24 hours. It'll get better, I know. I'm lucky that I have a lovely, stable home already. The new one is cake. I'm lucky it was only snot that led to us all being covered in vomit last night, especially since someone I know lost their nine-week-old to SIDS last week. I'm lucky that I have a place where I can go with my child where I know I can flop on the couch, drink coffee, and always find someone's ear to bend. I'm lucky to have the luxury of time and money that allows me to do silly things like knit socks, when I can buy five pairs, already assembled, for the price of making a pair.
I promise, if this house works out, I will punch no one in the face, neck, or head at closing. No matter what hot coals they make us walk to get there.
Posted by Robin at February 5, 2007 08:35 PM
Comments
When we bought this house the sellers fucked with us so bad, so bad...I'm trying to come up with a funny analogy here... it's like they were my ex-husband. Or worse my sister's exhusband.
They made us close 2 weeks within our offer (thank god for in-laws who fronted us the money), then they rented back from us so they could look for a house all leisurely-like. But like you, we wanted this damn place. So we parted our cheeks, bent over and smiled. Ew.
Now we have the house we love though. Wishing you the same screwing with a good outcome.
Posted by: Lisa V at February 5, 2007 10:37 PM
I've only bought a house from a builder so I can't say I know what you're going through but if you've come this far, by golly, that house is gonna be yours.
Love that sock. You're doing a fab job. And I will not take this opportunity to say I hate picking up heel stitches. Most people love it so don't listen to me. Once you've gotten them picked up (and I'd recommend that you knit the picked up stitches through the back loop to close up any holes that come up then go on knitting the regular way after that), the gusset is easy - just decrease every other row until you're back to your original number of stitches.
And then learn to knit short row heels because there are no gusset decreases in short row heels. Knit the heel, zoom on to the foot.
Posted by: Dixie at February 6, 2007 03:42 PM
I go with this one: They can taste our desperate love for their house and they love to lap it up like the hellhounds they are.
Posted by: Katya at February 6, 2007 07:20 PM
You can always go to NC and punch the people's brains out that we sold our house to. I still have nightmares. Our closing date for them on the house was Dec. 3rd, they didn't close until Jan. 3rd. Their reasoning? Well the wife is pregnant, and she can't ride 30 minutes in the car to sign papers. Hello? Then you can come to her sorry butt! I have nightmares that they never signed on our house, and I am 6 years behind on a mortgage. So occassionally I pull out the signed papers to reassure my crazy self.
Cassie
Posted by: Cassie at February 7, 2007 01:58 PM
I'm carrying a paper bag with me at all times these days because any mention of listing our house or selling our house or buying a house or just the word HOUSE makes me hyperventillate. Even reading about YOUR house makes me a little woozy.
Oh god where's my bag?
(Fingers crossed that the hellhouds accept your offer, and that no one gets punched in the process.)
Posted by: Susan at February 7, 2007 06:29 PM
