February 21, 2008

Obsess Much?

Things I did this week to prepare for our first showing tomorrow:

Removed every single thing from my refrigerator, removed and cleaned all shelves and drawers, and then put it all back together with the precision of that dude from the creepy Julia Roberts movie from long ago.
Cleaned underneath the drawer in my freezer, because yeah, I know every house I’ve gone into? I’ve looked under the drawer in the freezer. . . NOT. I just felt it had to be done.
Painted the molding in two of my bathrooms, making sure to paint with precision behind the toilets because, you know, everyone will notice back there.
Painted the molding in my hallway.
Touched up the paint on my bathroom cabinets from where my ACL brace chipped it off.
Washed the slipcovers on my sofa (Lil C decided to choke on a chip and then spit all the contents onto my sofa).
Yelled at the girls "Don’t Touch The WALLS!" every five minutes.
Bought a new rug for our entranceway. $149.99 on sale for $39.99, yeah baby!
Bought two new pillows for the sofa because that will totally make someone buy my house.
Scrubbed the stove until all the dried spaghetti sauce specks and all the skin on my hands was gone.
Washed all the rugs from the bathrooms.
Swept the kitchen floor like 4000 times.
Silently cursed my neighbor who has decided it’s perfectly acceptable to still have Christmas decorations out, and also boxes she doesn’t want anymore, and some box she thinks will magically get shipped back to the store without her telling anyone (like FedEx or the company where it came from) that she needs to return it.
Folded and put away many huge loads of laundry.
Bought yellow flowers because it’s supposed to invoke the desire to buy.
Wiped the toothpaste out of the girls’ bathroom 200 times minimum.
Made an appointment with my Realtor and the builder next week to discuss creating the house we lost from scratch.

***There are new reviews up at The BBM Review. Sometime within the next week or two, there will be a give-away that martial artists enthusiasts will love.

***Are you a lurker here? Do you want to start a blog but don’t know how to start or what to write about? I have a new gig teaching an online course called "Black Belt Blogger." To find out more about it, you can go here. And maybe YOU will be awarded an Honorary Black Belt Blogger badge. . .

Posted by Black Belt Mama on February 21, 2008 in On the Move | 6 Comments

February 20, 2008

Quirks

You make your friend start a blog and then she tags you. . .

Sigh.

I’m just kidding of course. I’ve been tagged by Renovation Girl and here are the rules:

The rules:
1) Link to the person who tagged you.
2) Post the rules.
3) Share six non-important things / habits / quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least three people.
5) Make sure the people you tagged KNOW you tagged them by commenting that you did.

Six non-important things about me:

1. I can drink iced tea or soda out of any type of cup or glass. However, give me milk in a plastic cup and I could seriously gag. I have to drink milk out of a glass or it just makes me nauseous. My Mom is the same way. Nature or nurture?

2. My feet are claustrophobic. I can not ever sleep with socks on my feet. Once I tried to slather my feet in emollient lotion and wear special socks to make sure it soaks in. When I woke up in the morning, my socks were on the other side of the bedroom. Apparently I ripped them off and threw them in my sleep.

3. When I get nervous, I pick at the skin on my thumb by my fingernails. You can totally tell how stressed out I am by the condition of my hands. Let’s just say that this week, my thumb started to bleed.

4. It doesn’t matter what type of hairstyle I have. It is almost always tucked behind my ears. It drives my stylist crazy!

5. I get extremely grossed out by poor table manners. People who lick their fingers, double dip and shove food in their mouths make me physically sick. I also get this from my Mom. We could both gag over any of these or other related issues.

6. When I find a house I like, I arrange my furniture in it in my mind while I’m falling asleep at night. I also grieve over losing a house I want like I lost a close relative. (No, I’m not over it and I’m not feeling any better about it or my stupid virus.)

Tagged are:

Adam

Karl

Sizzle

If you’re interested in submitting a post for the Martial Arts Carnival that will appear here on Friday, please get it in NOW! If you don’t, I will totally cough on you. See the left sidebar for the link. I’m too sick and lazy to link it here for you.

Posted by Black Belt Mama on February 20, 2008 in Just for Fun | 5 Comments

February 19, 2008

And then there was nothing but germs

The house is gone. Some out-of-town buyer came in and gave them an offer they couldn’t refuse. We couldn’t and didn’t want to compete. I feel like I’m grieving. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted it and I’m upset. We went to see another house tonight with high expectations and it was horrible. Pink and green nastiness, orange walls with green carpet. . . just awful. Plus, they totally lied about there being a 4th bedroom. There were only three and if that house was the square footage it says it was, well then my square footage is 4000.

Speaking of horrible, Lil C’s virus has turned into an ear infection and she has finally succeeded (after coughing in my face all week) to pass along her lovely flu-ish virus to me. Even Airborne couldn’t hold off this stupid virus. I want to crawl in bed, get under the covers, and just stay there all week long.

Back to square one.

Posted by Black Belt Mama on February 19, 2008 in Mental Strain for Mama | 6 Comments

February 19, 2008

And then there were three. . .

There’s a third offer on the house and "they are inclined to accept it."

We have one last chance. We upped our offer a bit and our realtor is delivering a verbal counter now. We’re waiting to hear back. I am on pins and needles. So much for it being a "buyer’s market."

Posted by Black Belt Mama on February 19, 2008 in Mental Strain for Mama | 3 Comments

February 18, 2008

Pooped in More Ways than One

I spent the morning following the girls around and cleaning up mess after mess after mess. It’s simply amazing how they can wreck a place in less than 10 minutes. In the time it takes me to organize one closet, they’ve destroyed the rest of the house completely.

With only 10 minutes until my realtor was supposed to show up with his marketing assistant and our "For Sale" sign, I decided to check the only room I hadn’t checked all day. . . the basement.

I walked in and was greeted with piles of puke from my lovely cat, Bear. He has major health problems. He’ll go for months without an issue. Of course he picks today to have one. I started cleaning up one spot, only to find one after another after another.

Then I found something even more "pleasant" than puke.

Poop.

Fabulous.

Mr. BBM had mentioned to me that the cats somehow got a hold of a bag of treats. When Mr. BBM found the bag, it was shredded and all the treats were gone. I’m thinking the treats must have been like those "WOW" potato chips of a few years ago that made you think you could eat a whole bag, only to discover that if you did, there would be some serious Montezuma’s revenge that would send you worshipping the porcelein gods with your butt. (You should know that I never tried those chips. If you don’t believe me, just ask Adam. I sent him lard friend potato chips for Christmas. I don’t take short-cuts when it comes to potato chips.)

So back to the basement. . . there I am, walking around the basement finding one surprise after another with my spray bottle of bleach and paper towels cursing Mr. BBM for being at work and my cat for getting sick NOW. Seriously? Now? Then the phone rings. It’s my realtor. He’s running 30 minutes late. Thank God. . .

Because that was almost the exact moment that I found more surprises behind the water heater. Like an ACL replacement recoveree is going to be able to get on her hands and knees and get back there!

I did my best, pretty much sprayed my whole basement with bleach and scrubbed while bent in half. When my realtor arrived, I still had to clean up yet another pile of puke to clear the path for his assistant to check out our crawl space.

I seriously must be nuts to be trying to sell my home with a 2-year old in the house and a cat with health problems. What was I thinking?

We still haven’t heard back on our counter, which was pretty much not a counter but more like a "we’re standing our ground." I realize keeping your fingers crossed is sort of counter-productive if you have a job where you need your hands, but I sure would appreciate it whenever you have the time to cross them.