Frustrations and All
Last week, I left the girls alone in the living room for exactly two minutes so I could transfer clothes to the dryer. In that small period of time, they managed to spill my entire glass of iced tea all over my white carpet. I had to climb into the crawl space to retrieve the carpet cleaner, not an easy feat when you have one knee that can’t be crawled on.
While I was frantically putting together my little green carpet cleaning machine so that I could get the tea up before it left a permanent stain, I jammed the tip of my finger on the machine and thought I would lose my entire finger nail because of it. While I was cleaning the carpet, the girls fled to their rooms to escape the dreaded loud carpet cleaner and a very unhappy Mommy. When I went upstairs to talk to them about not running around the living room like it’s a track meet, I discovered that they had broken the mobile that was still hanging from Lil C’s bed, the mobile that I happen to have an unhealthy emotional attachment to. I quietly walked to my bathroom and locked myself in there. I needed a minute. I needed a minute badly.
A couple days ago, my Mom and I took Lil C shopping. While in the store, she ripped about 15 pairs of shoes off the racks in an attempt to distract us from the fact that she was pulling the tags off a pair of sunglasses and fleeing the store with them. She may be two, but the girl knows what she wants and is apparently prepared to shoplift in order to get it. As we held up various pieces of clothing she repeated over and over again, "I don’t YIKE that dress." It was a frustrating shopping trip. Enough said.
Today, the girls gave me my Mother’s Day presents, complete with a coupon book for chores around the house (the best gift ever as far as I’m concerned) and cards that they made themselves. Lil C drew a picture inside the card for me. When I asked her what it was a picture of, she said "That’s a bandaid for your knee Mommy."
I love these shoplifting, mess-making girls more than anything in the world.
Happy Mother’s Day.
Up to the Saints
Although I spent a ridiculous amount of time at Tequila Con trying to convince Dustin to buy my house instead of searching on the west coast where things are overpriced, somehow I don’t think he was buying. At one point I’m fairly certain I even offered to shoot him the MLS listing for my house. I may have even thrown out the words: "two gas fireplaces" and "hardwood floors" in between drinks and tater tots. I met lots of cool people at Tequila Con, but sadly, I could not sell my home while there.
So, I did what every desperate home seller does these days. We loaded the entire BBM family into the van and headed to the Christian bookstore across town to buy a statue of Saint Joseph to bury him in our front yard (Don’t believe it works? Click and learn). The entire drive home, Big I kept telling us it wasn’t going to work until I read her the instructions:
1. Ask St. Joseph for help.
2. Believe that he will help.
3. Now place him on your property and stop stressing the hell out already.
(O.k., Step 3 is slightly embellished but you get the idea.) As we drove up our street, she agreed to believe and we started chanting, "I do believe in St. Joseph, I do! I do!" Peter Pan style. We said our prayers out on the sidewalk and Big I even offered to help bury him out there. Once the house sells, you’re supposed to dig him up and place him inside the new home in a place of honor.
If this works I will build that little guy a shrine, and I don’t even know how to build.
Somehow I’m wondering if threatening to bury your realtor upside down on his head wouldn’t have the same effect on getting your house sold? I’m just wondering.
What’s the what’s the what’s the scenario?
The agent who showed our home for the third time on Monday night has yet to make contact with our realtor. Despite it being their third time here, and taking pictures galore, nothing, still. My agent called today and he sounds as baffled and frustrated as we do. So in the interest of keeping my sanity, I’ve come up with some possible scenarios:
1. The buyers came and were disappointed by the brand new flooring in the kitchen and the new carpet. Apparently they like the "rustic" look of faded linoleum and 16-year old worn pink carpet was just what they were looking for. They also planned on making Lil C’s blue ocean room into an in-house beach so they were disappointed to see it painted so neutral and non-ocean-like. Because they must realize the work that we put into the place, they are trying to figure out a way they can ask us to retrieve the pink carpet from some landfill somewhere and put it back. They’re also trying to figure out how they can get us to repaint the ocean room.
Scenario result: Mr. BBM and I will launch empty paint cans at them from afar and tell them to kiss it.
2. The buyers are psychologists and/or have studied the psychology of buying a house. They want our house badly but they are being careful not to appear too eager. Instead they will wait and wait and wait to appear "neutral." Their agent has asked our agent to call him if another offer might be forthcoming so they are going to just wait it out until that happens hoping we might drop our price and they might get our place for a steal (which it totally already is losers).
Scenario result: This "psychology" is really starting to tick us off. So much so, that any offer that’s not full price and without contingencies will probably be scoffed at by the BBM family. Psychology doesn’t work on people like us. In fact, no psychologist would even attempt to try to figure us out. We’re just that weird. End result? We will probably tell the buyers to kiss it. Are you sensing a theme here?
3. The buyers were on their way to the office to write up an offer when a gigantic T-rex came storming out of the forest and devoured them whole, agent and all.
Scenario result: The BBM family will probably still talk badly about potential buyers because they should have written up an offer a long time ago, which would have helped them avoid the night of the dreaded T-rex.
4. The buyers are working on getting a pre-approval and haven’t had time to sit down and write up the offer because they are busy, busy people.
Scenario result: Waiting makes BBM’s unhappy so we will probably counter offer 10K above asking, just for stressing us out. Jerks.
5. Like in "Lost", the buyers and their agent have been whisked away to some planet that looks like Earth and feels like Earth, but it’s totally not. Perhaps in that world, they’ve already made an offer and our alternate selves have accepted it and they’re already moving in, so there’s no need to come back to this Earth and go through the whole process.
Scenario result: Locke is totally going to take one of them out and the surviving one will come crawling back to this Earth to try to get our house. We’ll be so sick of waiting that we’ll probably tell them to kiss it anyway.
Why can’t some other buyer come in and make us an offer we can’t refuse? I’m sick of dealing with these people and their lousy communication skills. Please take the afternoon off from crossing everything for us. At this point, I think it’s more likely that a T-Rex will buy our house.
Children’s Day
My sister always moans and groans when she hears my answer to the question, "What do you want for your birthday/Christmas?" I always tell her the same thing: "Get me an Ann Taylor Loft gift card." I love Ann Taylor Loft. Whatever size you are in real life, you’re a size smaller in Ann Taylor’s world. It’s a wonderful ego boosting thing. Plus, their sleeves are long enough, their pants are long enough, and it’s stylish but not hoochie-mama like most of the local mall is becoming. Seriously, my mall is now catering to a median age of 14, and 14 is not what it used to be when I was a kid. I shudder to think what it will be like when my girls are old enough to shop at some of those stores. I think I’ll take up sewing and hope that M.C. Hammer pants are still very much out.
My sister hates getting me the same old thing all the time, but that is what I truly appreciate. Aside from the fact that I love that store, it’s a store that doesn’t contain a single item for children. This year, for my birthday, my sister gave me a gift card and jewelry catalog. Her friend recently started selling Amway and convinced her it was a gift I would love. I’m not much of a jewelry person. I like it simple, and real (i.e. expensive), but it works because I really wear the jewelry I do have.
It took me weeks to finally decide what the lesser of two evils would be in the catalog and I ordered my gift. A few days later it arrived in the mail. If I wear it, you can and will call me "Mr. T". I’m not kidding; it really is that bad. I know because Mr. BBM laughed so hard I thought he would die from lack of oxygen, and when he caught his breath he kept repeating, "I pity the fool who. . . [insert whatever]". Next time, she can get me a Loft gift card; because now I have to call the number on the catalog (that I already threw away) and try to get them to send me the money. Yeah, that’s going to happen.
Another reason, I just want a Loft gift card. . . Tonight, I spent my Borders gift card (from my birthday) on Big I. I also spent my entire mall gift certificate (Christmas present from my Grammom) on Big I.
As we were checking out of the final store with colorful organizing baskets in hand for her closet, I jokingly told her that she owes me on Mother’s Day.
"Why is ‘Mother’s Day’ a holiday?" Big I asked.
"Because every other day of the year is Children’s Day" I told her.
"Oh," she said.
I think she got it loud and clear. So, to those out there who might decide to buy me a gift card. Let me repeat it so it’s clear: ANN TAYLOR LOFT.
If it kills you to do the same old thing, then change it up with Pier 1 or IKEA. I beg of you though, no more Mr. T jewelry and no more gift cards to places that carry things I can buy for the girls.
Talky Talky
Today, I will be a guest on Karl’s Blog Talk Radio show. If you would like to tune in and listen, you can go directly to the show here. All you need is a computer with volume. If you’d like to call in and ask some questions (remember, like I said, nothing too personal or annoying or else!) you can do so at this number: 646-716-9370. There’s also a live chat, so you can log in and ask questions that way too. I hope you’ll tune in and listen!
Copyright
© Copyright 2006-2019 blackbeltmama dot com ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Follow Me
Blog Designed By
My Creations
Things You Could Care Less About
