THE HOUSE

Our realtor is probably sick and tired of us at this point. We've been together for almost three months through I don't even know how many showings in five different surrounding towns, countless phone calls and emails, last minute "we want to see this house asap texts, three failed contracts, and soon to be two full blown home inspections.

She says she doesn't mind. I feel like she's just really good at her job. As in pretending we are excellent company even though we probably have a special ring tone that sounds something like a really annoying rooster.

We have a fourth contract on another house that I'm sure she is hoping and praying will work out so we can all just go our separate ways and then she can be all YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT I JUST WENT THROUGH WITH THESE PEOPLE.

And really, we've had things happen this go 'round that have been just weird and crazy and honestly WTF.

We are all ready for that day when we can be all, "You better sit down and grab a drink because YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS."

The haha funny but not really is that this house has been on the market all along. Through every house and failed contract and hours of searching MLS listings.

And there it was, just waiting, waving its hand frantically in the air like, "Pick me! Pick me!

We actually drove through the neighborhood about a month ago to look at a few of the houses for sale, including that one, and I was all, "No. I don't not want to live in this town. The backyard is too sloped. There's nothing here."

So that was the end of that until we ran out of choices and Tim was all, "We are out of choices. I'm going to go see of this house is okay before we drag everybody out there."

And by "this one" he meant a house a few doors down from the house we ended up loving.

He even asked if he should see the other house just because he was there and we were both like nahhhhh.

That was last Monday.

By Friday, I sent a text to our agent and said, "Let's go see this one (the one we had rejected twice now). Here we go again."

I say again because it was in the town I didn't want to be in and a house I didn't really want to see. But we had nothing else to look at. We had exhausted our options.

I think we have seen at least 25-30 homes, more if you count the ones we just drove by to see if we liked the area.

This is no small feat with two little ones and nap times and people who don't like being in the car, ever (here's lookin' at you, Hunter).

We had five houses to see on Saturday and the twice rejected house was the first on the list.

After walking in, I didn't want to go see any others.

This was IT.

This was THE HOUSE.

WHY DID IT TAKE US SO LONG TO SEE IT???

You guys. The room that will be Kellan's bedroom has this little reading nook they made by finishing off a small space behind a dormer window. It even has its own air conditioning vent, which hello, perfect for my book loving little furnace that is Kellan.

They had a perfect mix of living space and storage space in the basement.

They took care of their house.

You can tell when someone loves their home and keeps it nice versus someone who doesn't. We have seen and "felt" the insides of enough houses to know the difference.

This house was loved.

We walked around looking to see if there was anything that was amiss….and there wasn't. The storage space was even immaculate.

I almost left a note on the kitchen counter on the back of one of the flyers about the home that just said WE LOVE YOUR HOUSE.

Because we really, really did.

We told our agent we wanted to make an offer……and then we had to go see the rest of the houses on our list.

I didn't want to see anything else. I was done. But Tim was all, "We need to keep our options open because three failed contracts."

So, fine. Off we went.

In the middle of all of the driving and seeing the other houses, our agent was all, "Hard sell after seeing that one, huh?"

Well, yah. Obviously.

And then she told us that she called the other agent and someone else had already made an offer on the house that was perfect for us, but the owners weren't happy with the offer and weren't tied to it.

Small sigh of relief?

I mean we could have avoided this had we gone to look at this house the other two times we decided not to. We just like to add unnecessary drama to our lives, apparently.

After we sent in our offer, the other agent said he had to go back to the people who made the initial offer to see if they wanted to change anything or offer more money.

More waiting drama.

Why do we do this to ourselves?

And then finallllllly!!!!

We received the documents to sign to get a contract going to start the process of moving into the house that we knew was THE ONE.

(There was also a third offer mixed in there but whew. We beat them to the punch)

And then yesterday, it happened….

Wait…small sidebar first.

When we moved into our Arkansas house, we knew it was a house that had been loved. You can just tell. And we also loved that house. That has been our most favorite house ever and when we found out we were moving, we wanted to sell it to someone who would love it as much as we did.

Somehow, the right people found and bought our house. They had actually wanted to buy it when we did, but for whatever reason they didn't or we put the offer in first, I have no idea.

After they closed on it, they sent us a text asking some questions and when I responded I told them I hoped they enjoyed the house as much as we did.

Their response?

WE LOVE THIS HOUSE.

They also knew all of the previous owners (except us).

The universe made sure the right people bought our house and will love it and take care of it.

That's exactly what we wanted.

It sounds silly because it's just a house, but a house holds so many memories and important events in people's lives and there is a totally different feel when you are in a happy house.

End sidebar.

Yesterday, our realtor was over at the house because she had to let in an inspector and the family was there finishing up getting the last things out.

The wife came up to her and asked if she was the new owner. Our realtor said no and the wife went on to say that she said she had just felt connection with us/our offer, even though they had three offers.

She said that she was hoping I would be there because she really wanted to meet me to tell me about the neighborhood and show me where the kids lived and talk to me about the house and where they spent their time.

She asked our realtor if it was against the rules to ask about us or what age our kids were and gave her all of her contact information to give to me.

She hoped we would love it as much as they did and they were sad to leave.

They loved their home.

This is why that house felt like it was THE HOUSE the minute we walked in. It is the same kind of house we cherished in Arkansas and the same kind of house we have been searching for since we have been here.

The universe put this house in our path even though we rejected it more than once.

We should all know by now that if the universe is trying to get you to a place, you will get there. It will happen.

All of the failed contracts and wrong houses and inspection issues and driving everywhere and endless searching and feeling defeated over and over and over again.

It all led to this house.

The house that we were supposed to have all along.

I am so happy and excited about moving in.

It feels right.

It's perfect.

It's THE HOUSE.

something from nothing

I want to write something funny but really I'm too tired for funny.

Apartment life with intermittent Sasquatch upstairs tromping around until the wee hours (what even are they doing?? These apartments aren't that big. How much walking and forgetting what you walked over for and walking back and raiding the refrigerator and whatever else is happening doing up there??) along with an almost eight month old who is going through some things like probably teething and trying to figure out how to sit down after pulling up on every single thing within reach leads to no sleep.

When Kellan was this age I read about how babies will literally roll over and put themselves into a crawling position in their sleep because their brains cannot stop making the body do all the things, even whilst unconscious, until they master the task.

With Kellan I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And it never happened.

Not once.

He woke up and practiced every letter sound there is, over and over and over, but there was never any of that crazy getting up to try and crawl away.

So, the other night when Hunter was totally zonked and out of nowhere rolled himself over and got into a crawling position and then started trying to pull up on me to stand all with his eyes closed, I was like ohhhhhhhhhhhh. So this is what they're talking about.

Yah. That was quite the surprise for ye olde mom over here.

I mean during the day Hunter will get himself standing, holding onto whatever, and then after a bit he will start crying because HOW DO I SIT DOWN???

He falls, pretty much. Not the slightest bit graceful. I guess the letting go and also getting into a sitting position is pretty technical if you actually think about all the steps you need to take.

I think that's what we're working on which is resulting in terrible naps and fitful night sleep.

Coffee me.

ALSO I'm basically one million percent mom + errand runner + chef + teacher + scheduler + house cleaner + whatever else it is I do all day because Tim + new job = crazy hours and incessant phone interruptions every day of the week.

It's difficult for everybody.

I appreciate all of his hard work to allow us to live the way we do where I can stay home, but that comes with sacrifices.

And so now I apparently just did something that made the font smaller and I have no idea how I am too tired lazy to fix it so FYI. I'm sure it'll fix itself after I publish it. Or it won't and we'll all be reading the small print from here on out (haha…punny).

I'm supposed to be making dinner, now.

Guess I better jump on that task because hangry is a condition every single one of us has and it's zero percent fun to have three people getting upset about nothing and a baby crying at everything because all any of us want to do is EAT but we are all too delirious with hunger to actually see that that is the issue and instead start blaming each other for ridiculous indiscretions that aren't even real.

the keeping room

I'm not sure if it's where we are living or the type of houses we are looking at or if I've just been living under a rock, but *apparently* the cool new (but not really because you'll see) thing to have in your house is a keeping room.

One of the first houses we looked at when we moved was a sell by owner type of deal. When we went to see the house, the entire family was there to show us every. little. thing. to try to explain why it was such an awesome place to live.

I appreciate the effort but I'd like to decide that for myself, since I'm the one who will be living here, now.

When we made it to the kitchen (because every room had a chapter of information to digest), the husband showed us this area off the kitchen and was all, "This is a keeping room. I had no idea what that was until we started selling this house. It was a room where they used to put pies to keep them warm."

He was really proud of this fact. He wanted everyone to know how amazing it was that they had a room that was supposed to be used to keep pies warm.

And so I'm looking into this room that had a full sized table and chairs and nice windows and I'm thinking, "What a colossal waste of space for a pie. Who even makes enough pie to fill this space? And even if one does make that much pie, it's probably only on Thanksgiving and even then you wouldn't want to use that whole space for pie. I can think of plenty things that need space during Thanksgiving and none of them are pies."

A keeping room.

What is even happening here?

Keeping rooms and movie rooms and full kitchens in the basement.

That has been the running theme during our house hunting.

Full on projector, giant screen, surround sound speaker system, mood lighting, recliner chairs. The whole bit.

And kitchens.

Two full kitchens in the house.

That's entirely too much work for me and another colossal waste of space.

One kitchen is enough.

Apparently the reason for all of this basement renovation is for the mother-in-law.

If you ask me, this upgrade to the mother-in-law suite has gotten way out of control to the point no one even sees her anymore because she's so busy in her full sized kitchen and movie room and separate garage entrance.

Everybody knows that the whole point of a mother-in-law is childcare. So why are we trying to take that away? What are we thinking? We're only punishing ourselves.

While we are on the topic of punishment, since when is it imperative for every bedroom to have their own full bathroom?

I had to share a bathroom with three boys until my mom made one for me downstairs when I was in high school. And even then everybody used it.

But now we all have our own bathrooms, complete with that many more toilets and showers and sinks to scrub.

Wow….have I gone waaaaay off course.

Keeping rooms.

It allllllllllll started with keeping rooms.

And turns out, they're not even for pies (a little FYI history link for you).

What a farce.

(But really we are probably buying a house with a keeping room and I have no idea how to decorate it. That's really what I wanted to say but that obviously never happened)

missed the turn, he did

We still haven't found a house.

Well, wait. Wait wait wait WAIT.

Let me rephrase.

We found one house that we absolutely LOVED and put a contract on it and then they decided they didn't want to sell it anymore.

We found another house that got all the way through inspection and then failed the radon piece of it in a big way. Nix that one.

We found another one and they don't want to sell it for a reasonable price and apparently are trying to make $150,000 (yes, I put the correct number of zeroes) off the sale of said house from what they bought it for a few years ago.

We ain't payin' for no college, unless it's our own kids, yo.

So. Off we go again today to see five more houses. Yesterday we saw two inside and drove by four more to see if we liked the neighborhood enough to explore more in depth.

We didn't, FYI.

Tim's company thinks we are being picky and are looking for a "dream" home and we are just like no. All we are trying to find is one that doesn't have holes down to the wood in the carpet, backs to a huge retention pond with a gate that has a door leading right into it in their backyard for small children to fall in, a door on the second story that leads directly to the hospital with a broken neck because they didn't want to upgrade to a deck option so when you open the door, there is nothing but a rickety wooden "gate" to keep you from taking a 15 foot drop to the ground below (why they didn't just put a window there is beyond me), wallpaper and paint in the darkest most awful colors….I mean we aren't going to be living here for lots of years. Only a few years.

And because we know we will be moving, we want a house we don't have to fix for 50% of the time we will live in it and only have 50% of the time to enjoy it. And then have to worry if we will get our money back out so we have money to put down on wherever we end up next. It's a vicious cycle and we know how to play the game and really, Tim's company, you should be more helpful.

It doesn't make it any easier that we are currently in a sellers market. So now, all these people are looking at their house through rose colored glasses thinking it's worth $150,000 more than it was five years ago.

(One hundred and fifty. thousand. dollars. I still cannot get over that.)

Capiche?

Anyway.

This morning while Tim was making pancakes and Kellan and Hunter were playing and I was drinking coffee, probably, I said what I have apparently been saying every time we are about to go see a house. Something exactly along the lines of, "I really hope we like one of these so we can put a contract on it and be done!"

Right after those words came out of my mouth Tim was like stop! You're jinxing us!

I was like what? No I'm not. That's ridiculous.

I told him I didn't believe in those sorts of things until he reminded me of all the old wives tales I made him do to try and get knocked up last year.

(Whatever. It worked.)

He saw that I knew he was right and so he looked at me like, "mmmmhmmmm you know you do."

Okay, fine. We all believe in those things.

Even if we don't want to admit it.

My favorite number is two and I prefer living in a house with an even address number.

THERE. I SAID IT.

Moving on.

Tim: "We need to try and mix it up a little."

As in, stop saying how much I hope we like one of the houses.

So I looked at him and deadpanned, "I REALLY DO NOT WANT TO GO DO THIS TODAY."

Tim's brain immediately goes into solve it mode. "I'll just go or you can go and I'll stay…."

I looked at him, waiting for him to catch on and he just looked back at me like what??? I'm trying to solve the problem! You don't want to go so just one of us can instead……..

Mix it up you said.

Change the words you said.

Missed the joke, you did.

And Tim, who is not one to like the fact that he missed out on a joke, was like, "You sounded so serious! It was so real! And whooooshhhhh! There was a left turn and I wasn't on it!"

For the rest of breakfast I was given the Actor of the Year award and Tim's brain was a broken record because he couldn't believe he could set up a joke so perfectly and then one second later, miss the bus.

Beep beep.

rugs to radon

You know when you had this whole plan and it all seemed like it was going to work out, so much so that you started putting a lot of time and energy into acting on the plan and then even started writing a blog post regarding some of those pieces parts about said plan….and then.

AND. THEN.

You’re so funny, universe. I know you’re actually looking out for us but really. So funny. Appreciate it and all but still. Here we go again.

SO. The plan gets a kink and the kink is so serious that you’re not even sure if you’re going to carry out the plan anymore.

Hello, welcome to my life, the current edition.

Of course this allllllllllll revolves around the hazmat house. And this time it’s actually living up to its name! Way to be a team player, house. I guess if you describe a thing a certain way enough times it ends up taking on those properties. Murphys Law or something.

Probably not Murphy at all but definitely some kind of law the universe has in place.

Anyway.

We are in the process of having appraisals and inspections and all completed and yesterday we received the radon report.

What’s radon, you say?

You have no idea what I’m talking about?

Sidebar: If you live in Colorado, I hope I’m not talking to you.

Quick science lesson for everybody else: 

And if anybody has a better lesson on this or if I am describing this improperly, please share.

Radon is a gas that is created by the natural breakdown of uranium in soil. It comes up from said soil into your house. When you have this gas in an enclosed and well insulated/sealed area like a house, it floats around until it exhausts its half life, which is around 4 minutes and that is plenty of time for the particles to get into your lungs. Having this happen day after day, year after year can cause lung cancer. Because radon is a carcinogen and carcinogens are super bad for your body. Radon is more prevalent in some areas of the country (looking at you, Colorado…and now apparently also South Carolina…) and it is also more frequently an issue when you have a basement.

Usually you have a radon mitigation system in your house to combat this. It is a pipe that goes from the ground to outside to vent the gas. It doesn’t remove it completely but it gets rid of enough of it to get it to lower levels. Still a carcinogen…just not as much. Really that sounds ridiculous but it is what it is…because radon is everywhere.

The hazmat house said it had a mitigation system.

The radon test result said that mitigation system is not doing its job.

Levels that warrant intervention are at 4…..okay really it’s way more complicated than you probably want to know.

Brass tax is the house radon levels are high and we are concerned. I don’t want any of us exposed to a carcinogen at levels that are putting us at a much higher than average percentage of developing lung cancer. 

Yes, we know the system can be fixed. But the big question is will it really BE FIXED? Yes, they’ll do another 2 day test and it that comes back as acceptable…and we say we will go ahead with the sale…….

Okay really. It feels like I’m trying to justify us eating bowls of fried sugar washed down with soda and driving around without seatbelts – and we do not do any of those, for the record.
The most accurate radon test is 90 days and if we decide to buy the house and then do the 90 day test and find out that radon is still a big issue….mitigation system or not….then what

Do you see where I am going with all of this?

And to think this post was going to be about the distress we were having about how difficult and confusing it is to buy an area rug…..one email later and look where we are now.

where’s the money tree?

I know I briefly mentioned we were moving into a new to us house.

Honestly I feel like we keep moving into houses, making them nice, and then handing them off to someone else to enjoy as their forever home.

It’s like we are the home fixer fairies.

You’re welcome, families in Georgia, Colorado, and Arkansas.

Really though. It’s kind of nice to be able to give that kind of “gift” so to speak. It’s hard because we have to leave the lovely house we made, but it’s also fun to be able to give the joy to someone else.

At this point in our, “No, we aren’t a military family we just get moved around a lot” life, I’m fairly confident we can make a nice house. It’s kind of the obvious knock on effect when you have two super type A personalities living under the same roof who have ticks about certain things and cannot deal until they are made whole.

Each house we have owned has sold faster than the last. And by faster I mean one took two weeks. The next 1.5 weeks. The last a week exactly.

I’m going to be kicking myself in a few years if the house we are buying now takes longer than that to sell. Fingers crossed it doesn’t. 

Anyway, we are currently in the throes of figuring out what we want to do to this new to us house. There are lots of things we could do, but because we aren’t staying here forever, we have to be selective.

Selective means we can’t put more money in the house than we can get out. Don’t get upside down. Make money on the sale, don’t lose it.

I told Tim I wanted to make the coat closet by the garage door a makeshift mudroom because that area was really poorly designed, entirely too narrow, and who puts three doors in a tiny space within five feet of one another??

I needed a functional space for the boys to take off and store their shoes and such and I had to get rid of a door. 

Enter mudroom in a closet, aka remove the door.

And then Tim was all, “Take off the door???!”

I am a creative person. I think in ways Tim cannot conceive. I have learned I need to communicate in pictures.

I showed him the magic of Pinterest. 

His fears were pacified.

Project mudroom was on.

I even made a terrible drawing with even more terrible handwriting. I have never had nice handwriting and well, it is what it is, people.

I am beginning to realize that I really enjoy two things about moving. I like staging our house when we have to sell it and I like fixing it and making it nice when we are moving in. 

Really I would stage anyone’s house if they’d be able to deal with me and my “yes you have to take pictures of yourself down and yes you have to declutter like you’ve never decluttered in your life” mentality.

Hey…it works. It might be a PITA but it works.

However, I do not like packing or unpacking. Let’s be clear about that. I like beautifying. Finding the perfect spot for things. Making the house feel like a home.

Right now we are in a holding and planning pattern until we close on the hazmat house. Yesterday we had a marathon day with inspectors and carpet and flooring people and paint and handyman and security and fence people…along with me having a small conversation with our realtor to make sure that she communicated what we (read me) expected in a professional cleaning we are requiring. 

Because you guys. It’s serious. The amount of grime and dirt in places is…we cannot figure out how it even happened. It’s like they took a mixer, filled the bowl with mud and bits of leftovers, picked a random outlet in the house and flipped it on high. Or they just took a sock and dipped it in brown water and went around flinging it against whatever wall they could reach.

And then there are things in places I have no explanation for. Like caked smudges on wall mirrors that require scaffolding to reach.

But that’s not the point. Doing all of this tedious stuff means we are moving closer to getting stuff done!

We as in not really Tim or me directly but still.

Yay!

The day of contractors definitely was not an easy one for Kellan. He had to do a lot of waiting around and in the rush out the door, I forgot his snacks for the hours long event. Really, I always forget something unless I put a post it on the door with all the things to remember…and still sometimes I forget. 

I told Kellan I would take him to the grocery store as soon as I thought I had a window. Then, when I thought that window was open, I handed Hunter off to Tim while he was still dealing with the floor guy and the inspector.

Kellan and I headed out the door and then the painter and handymen drove up right as we were walking to the car. 

I just looked at Kellan as said, “I’m really sorry but you’re going to have to wait.”

Let me just say he didn’t like that answer at all.

Ensue lots of tears and him reminding me how absolutely hungry he was (let’s pretend we forgot about how we talked about eating breakfast and how he’d be hungry later).

Luckily our real estate agent helped distract him while I went around showing the painter and handymen all the things we wanted painted and fixed. 

I also told them upfront, “Look. We are really particular people. We like everything to be neat and tidy and god forbid there be a crooked line. Hell hath no fury like a crooked line.” 

I think I made my point. Or I scared them. Hard to tell.

I asked Tim at the beginning of this particular relocation process if he thought we were high maintenance, fully expecting him to say, “Us?? Noooooo.”

YEP.

“What??? No we aren’t! We just know what we like!”

EXACTLY.

Since then, I’ve just embraced it and have been upfront like, “We are difficult people. We know we are difficult people. We like stuff a certain way. Just a heads up.”

So, back to the STARVING child, by the time I was ready to take Kellan to the store, I’m pretty sure he forgot about eating because he was perfectly happy running through the aisles, picking out stuff, and telling me he wanted it to take a loooooooong time.

Probably because we were retuning to the house of no fun (yet). When we got back I had him go upstairs to the kid room to read the books that were there. I figured it was at least something he’d enjoy so he didn’t have to think about how hot it was. Apparently the owners don’t believe in air conditioning or watering their lawn and plant life.

Anyhow. Wow am I going all over the place. Once we knew our offer for the hazmat house was accepted, Tim made a spreadsheet of estimated costs before we started getting quotes and actual costs.

Anyone have a money tree growing out back because we need to pluck a few dozen or so benjamins.

Apparently I need to get into the handyman and carpet business. I’m not interested in the paint business because I don’t like to paint. Actually if I’m being honest, I’m not interested in the carpet business, either. But I can definitely get excited about some one off creative work requests.

I do think I’m going to have to start teaching myself how to do some things. Maybe go to a few Home Depot workshops or something. Then Kellan, Hunter, and I can build and create all sorts of fun! And save some dollars because WOW.

Obviously Hunter still has some major baby milestones yet to accomplish before he gets down and dirty with construction materials and I am not rushing those baby things at all. He’s already trying to grow up too fast and I’m just over here like wait! How are you almost at the age where you’ve been out longer than you’ve been in???

Dear Time: slow down.

Dear Money Tree: Kellan says you’ll grow if we just plant a dollar in the ground, cover it with dirt, and water it.

chicken bees

It’s my new little corner of the interwebs! Is that even a term anymore? Honestly I am so out of the loop….anyway, I had a blog…but I kind of grew out of it and decided I needed a new one and so here we are!

Finally!

I haven’t exactly added anything to this so bear with me. Time to beautify is currently not on my side. 

To start of this brand spankin’ new blog, I’d like to share that we have a cute new little member of our cast who I have already nicknamed trouble…even though his real name is Hunter.

Ladies…I’m out.

But WOW is Hunter the complete opposite of Kellan. Instead of talking at seven months he is inch worm crawling. Trying to pull up on stuff. Getting into everything. Not afraid of anything. Throw all caution to the wind! What even is caution because who needs that?!

I already put Tim on high alert that we need to lock all the things. If it can be tilted or lifted, bolt it down. Install catch nets on walls and balconies because I am already calling it. He will be climbing anything with footholds and then flinging himself off because wheeeeeeee!

I repeat: He’s s-e-v-e-n months old.

Kellan? He didn’t walk by himself until he was over a year old. He crawled after he walked. He rolled and butt scoogied before that and even then he never left if you told him to stay put. 

Hunter? I cannot even get his diaper off before he’s flipped himself over and is crawling away all I’M FREEEEEE! Don’t even try to put a new diaper on me! I don’t need no stinkin’ clothes, mom!

Kellan, on the other hand, has issues if someone else isn’t wearing socks. Let’s not even go there with nekkid.

A friend at our old house (We just moved! More on that later!) had to bring her own socks to our house if she wore sandals. One time she didn’t and she had to wear my socks because life in Kellan’s world was not okay until her feet were covered.

Long story short: Everybody wears socks.

Anyway. Where was I going with this?…….my memory has become….well it has left me, actually. I now forget what I was going to say as I am saying it. I don’t even know how parents with more than two kids even have a memory. It must all be autopilot.

[re-reading my own blog to try and remember my point]

[It’s not coming back to me]

So anyway. We moved. As in relocated to a new town. Everyone is in transition. We are hopefully going to move into a house soon that basically looks like it came out of the Restoration Hardware catalogue. 

Scratch that.

Scratch allllllllll that.

We are instead moving into what we had deemed the hazmat house.

More on that later…well really here’s the low down quick and dirty version because I will forget I said that and later will never come and then you’ll always be wondering. So here we go, run on sentence style: we put an offer on the Restoration house the day we saw it and then the next day our realtor called me and was like you are not going to believe this…this has never happened to me ever but they decided not to sell their house. We were just like WHAT?! And so then we tried to go see all these other houses we didn’t really like and then Tim sends me a text one day and is all thaaaat hazmat house is starting to look better and beeeeeetter……and I didn’t want to admit it but it really was based on the houses we had been seeing and it wasn’t all that bad of a house, the owners are just very messy and sloppy (read: dog poo in yard, broken toys on steps leading to front door, kids underwear on the floor when we walked in, ginormous hair ball the size of a small animal in the shower door, teddy grahams up the stairs, smears of dog dirt all over the walls by the food bowls, dings and dents and all kinds of things…let’s just say our real estate agent said, in her sweetest southern voice, “it’s been lived in a little hard.”). But we can fix all of these things. The owner is obviously a mom trying her best with two kids and really, I get it. The kid probably hid that underwear in his shirt and then flung it out behind him backwards as they walked out of the house.

But this house has all the things I wanted, like a loft and a basement. Lots of space. So fast forward to today where we decided to put an offer on the hazmat house and we will be fixing all the things. I’m actually really excited about it. Hazmat house here we come!

OH! And guess what?! My point has come back to me after a long, slow circle around the track.

Chicken bees!

Why chicken bees?

Well, earlier I was going to correlate how Kellan decided to focus on vocabulary and talking versus physical abilities while Hunter has clearly gone in the opposite direction. Except I forgot about that correlation until just now, so I better say it before I forget again…

Kellan started talking at 6 months. His first word was DAT! Like I want to see DAT! He then moved on to two word sentences (“I do it” – okay I know that’s technically three….) and hasn’t looked back. 

Even though his vocab is insane, Kellan still says some really cute things. The most recent is “diswhisk.” As in, “I do not like carrots. I diswhisk them.” 

I have no idea where Kellan came up with diswhisk or if he actually means “dismiss,” but I am not correcting him and nor should anybody else because it’s only so long before he figures it out and so please let me have this moment.

Okay…yes…chicken bees. I’m getting there. I was just giving you a little background…so when he was little he used to call chickadees “chicken bees” (and maybe he still does, I’m actually not sure).

At the time I thought it was adorable and I still think it’s adorable.

And I think it fits this new blog perfectly because I am definitely going to talk about chicken and bees…along with plenty of other things that don’t really go together in the same subject area but in the end the room matches because there are enough common things to pull it all together.

That’s pretty much our life. We aren’t the everything matches restoration house. We are the throw a little of this and a little of that and oh yes that’ll probably work house.

Our lives are starting a new chapter and it’s a chapter I want to remember. 

This fresh start after our very, very bumpy ride to get here is making me realize I just need to do the things I want to do and share what I want to share. So I’m just going to hop up on the horse and do it.

Plus, Kellan is now privy to my old blog and he loves it when I read the stories about him. Or he reads them himself because oh, yes. He’s reading. And not just Hop on Pop. He reads everything and I mean let me break it down for you: he correctly read the word “rogue” without anyone telling him how to pronounce it. He told Tim the other day he needed to “bone up” on something and Tim asked him if he knew what that meant and he correctly defined the phrase. 

He’s five.

I don’t even know what to say except it all started with DAT!

Also, it is so fun to go back and relive memories and have this blog as a way Kellan and Hunter can always read about all the things we did and all the stories that would very well be forgotten had I not written them down.

So with that, giddy-up!

And Happy 4th! May you all celebrate with fireworks that I haven’t seen in five years and will be cursing come 10pm when you’re waking up my kids with your loud recklessness. 

My how times have changed.


(Kellan’s face is saying I’m smiling but someone is smoking so really I just want to leave)