Not quite a day of rest...

After running the 5K yesterday, I figured I'd do a whole lot of nothing today.

I figured wrong.

I don't know what got me started, but I was outside, just kind of puttering around in the yard. I've noticed some bricks that were hidden by dirt behind the house, between the patio and the firepit area before - I kind of thought that maybe it was a walkway, but I wasn't sure. So I started poking around.

Now, we have already found a ton of bricks around the property. I don't know what the previous owners did with all of them or where they came from, but we've used them for various projects, including the firepit.

Not knowing exactly what I was getting into here, I started to dig.

And then I got the wheelbarrow and started to dig some more.

And then the broom to see exactly what was there.

And then Alex came out and started to help me - until he got bored, then he'd go back inside and out of the heat.

There were parts that were under almost 6" of dirt and grass that had just overtaken it.

By the time I was done, I had removed enough dirt to fill the wheelbarrow twice, and I uncovered an entire walkway made out of bricks. It's uneven in spots, and it's considerably lower than the level of the grass, so I'm going to have to do a LOT of work if I end up keeping it (I debated digging it up and reusing the bricks elsewhere). I have a few ideas in mind for things that I can do with it, but I have to figure out just how much work it's going to take, not to mention how much money.

For now though, I think I'm just going to leave it as is - until I come up with the ideal plan. And a lot of extra time. And win the lottery.

Or at least until after we get back from vacation.

Strength

So for the past week or so, I've been busting my butt to replace the flooring in my laundry/bath and beyond. It's been a long, drawn-out job for so many reasons.

I've done the majority of the job myself. The kids have helped out here and there, and The Dude popped in and out when he could, but the vast majority of it has been me plugging away, usually late at night after the kids were in bed. It's been strenuous and draining and just overall not very easy.

The bulk of the job is done. The washer and dryer are back in place, but the toilet is still sitting on the side porch, waiting to be put back in its spot. Edging needs to be done between the tile and carpet, and there are 4 doors that have to be trimmed and rehung, among a host of other little piddly jobs.

I'm tired.

I got up and made breakfast this morning, but after I cleaned the kitchen I went out to the living room and curled up on the loveseat and I fell asleep. And I slept off and on for most of the day. I got up a couple of times to go to the bathroom or get something to drink, but that was it.

At one point I got up long enough to flip a load of laundry and cook some chicken - but only because I was starting to feel guilty for being so lazy.

The whole time I kept thinking to myself - people always tell me how they think I'm so strong. They admire what I'm able to do for myself.

Strong. Independent. Non-stop.

Today, I felt anything but strong. My body hurts. My hands ache so much that opening a new bottle of soda brought me to tears. Typing this is painful.

I felt anything but independent, because all I wanted was for someone - anyone - to come to the house and help. Someone to take the kids out to do something. Someone to do some laundry for me. Someone to hand me some food that I didn't have to make.

Non-stop was definitely not in my vocabulary today. I stopped. I crashed. I slept. I moped at how crappy I feel. I watched videos that made me cry and allowed myself to feel the relief of letting go.

I get so tired of always being strong. It's exhausting. It's overwhelming.

It's not always empowering. It's not always a good thing. And for so many people, it's not a choice - it's a way to survive life, one task at a time.

And sometimes, being strong means admitting that we are weak and we need help. Sometimes it's admitting that we're an emotional mess and we really don't have our act together. Sometimes it's just admitting that we need to recharge before we can do one more thing.

I'm tired. I can't do it all.

And that's ok.

Keyboard Warriors

So last night, that silly Tooth Fairy letter resurfaced in a really big way. A page on facebook with almost 4 million fans posted it, but of course - without the backstory. Without a link back to my page or my blog. Without my permission.

It happens all the time. All the time. I should be used to it by now, and for the most part I do ignore it. I'll read a few comments, throw the link to my blog up there, and let it go.

This time was different. This time, the comments were mean. Hateful. Judgmental. Way worse than usual. Sure, there were a few positive ones, but they were quickly buried under the ones touting my inept parenting skills.

Of course, since the letter wasn't credited to me, people didn't know who they were insulting. They sat there behind their keyboards, casting stones at someone who wrote a letter to an 11 year old girl as a joke. Even after they read the blog post, they continued.

Emotional violence. She should be ashamed. What a horrible mother. That woman doesn't even deserve to have her kids. She should take parenting classes.

The ones that hurt the most were the ones who insinuated that I was a horrible person for raising my kids in a broken home:

(This thread of comments on the post has since been deleted. I think.)

Broken home. No father figure.

The last thing that I ever wanted was for my family to not be "normal" with a mother and father and kids. I never planned to get divorced, and certainly didn't plan to do it twice. I fought like hell to keep it together, to keep it from being broken, and so I stayed.

But staying wasn't worth it. Staying wasn't safe, for me or for the kids. We had to get out. I had to "break" our home in order to keep them safe. I had to get them away from the violence.

Yes, we lived in an "icky" house for 3 1/2 years. But that icky house meant more to me than just about any other place we've lived. I learned more about myself in that house than ever before.

I know that the hate and the judgment and the Mommy Wars will never stop. As long as there is an internet, there will be keyboard warriors who get their panties in a wad and think that they are better than everyone else and believe that they are entitled to pass judgment on other people without knowing the background. It's never going to stop.

I tell my kids all the time - you can't stop other people from being jerks, but you can certainly control your own reaction to it.

Same thing applies to adults. Don't feed into the anger or the hate or the judgment - it's not worth it.

Sometimes I need to remind myself of the same thing.

It's a January thing...

Here we are, almost officially halfway through the month of January already.

How did that happen?

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that time doesn't pass us by at the same rate all of the time. OK, maybe officially it does. But it certainly doesn't always seem that way.

Over the past few years, January has become a very ..... memorable month for me.

January 12, 1998 - The day that I set up residency in Kansas after a 5 day cross-country trek from Long Island with all of my belongings in the back of a Ryder truck, my car on a dolly behind it, and my cat on the front seat beside me. (Someday, I'll spill all of the details as to why that move happened, but for now - that's something that I keep to myself and very few people know the full story.)

January 7, 2005 - My divorce from Ex1 was final.

January 17, 2006 - Jared was admitted to the hospital with a very severe bug. He was so very sick, and it was so scary, so I planned to stay with him that night and one of my best friends came to stay with us. I was still 3 weeks away from my due date with Alex, but I went into labor that night...

January 19, 2006 - Alex arrived - big, strong, and healthy despite being early.

About 2 weeks after that, Jeff proposed to me - and I said yes. I honestly don't remember the exact date on that one.

January 7, 2011 - The date that my divorce from Jeff could have been final (see the coincidence there?)

January 13, 2011 - My 40th birthday, and the day that my divorce from Jeff was actually final.

January 21, 2012 - The Dude and I made our first road trip together, and he got to meet some of my friends. We decided on that trip that if we could survive the weekend without killing each other, then we could probably get along for a while (I guess we were right).

January 27, 2014 - I bought a house. I bought a freaking house. (Sorry, that one's still a little surreal.)


So yeah, January has historically been a month of ups and downs for me. I'm not generally one to live in the past or to remember a ton of dates - I actually had to look at a calendar to remember some of the dates that I listed. And even though I might remember them, I don't usually make a big deal about them. I used to semi-celebrate January 7 as the date that the first divorce was final, but this year? I didn't even remember it. At the time, I was thrilled when the second divorce was final on my 40th birthday and I planned to celebrate it yearly - but that was short-lived when he passed away less than 3 weeks later.

Over the past few days, I've caught myself dwelling on some of these dates more than I usually do. I don't know why it happened, but maybe because I was sick for the past day or so and didn't really have anything to do other than sleep and think.

More often than not, I've thought of January as a month of losses, mainly because both of my marriages were officially over during this month. For the longest time, I thought of those as failures - and to a point, I still do. But at the same time, admitting that I failed both times has set me up for some new beginnings. Some turned out to be not so good (hence Divorce #2) but some have turned out to be pretty awesome (hello, having a baby and buying a house?) and I wouldn't trade them for the world. And seriously, my birthday - the one day of the year when it is honestly and truly all about me. (Except for yesterday. Yesterday was all about the plague for both me and The Dude. So I'm calling a do-over for my birthday yesterday.)

I know that everyone's situations are different, but I see so many people who seem to be content living in the past. They focus so much on the bad stuff that has happened, and while they're looking behind them they're tripping over what's in front of them - or worse yet, they're pushing it out of their way so that they can continue to look back.

Looking forward doesn't mean that the past didn't happen.  It doesn't mean that the past isn't important.  It doesn't mean that you should never look back - we can only see how far we've come by seeing where we were - but in order to get anywhere without tripping and falling flat on your face, you've got to look ahead.

Sometimes, I need to remind myself of that too.

What a year...

I've been thinking for the last few days (scary, I know).

I knew I wanted to write something about New Years. But did I want to do resolutions? Goals? The year in review? A post blasting the cliches of resolutions?

Honestly, this year has been a total whirlwind for me.

Seriously? I bought a freakin' house. A HOUSE. How did that happen? Days away from homelessness a few short years ago, and now a homeowner? For real?

Just a few weeks short of a year later, it's still surreal. From tearing out old flooring, putting in new flooring, dealing with a flood, a worn-out water heater, more yardwork and cleanup and tree trimming and digging and planting than I care to think of, so much cleaning and unpacking and organizing (still)..... I still catch myself running my hands down the walls and thinking to myself "holy crap, this is MINE" at least once a day.

The list of projects, both inside and out, continues to grow, but it's a manageable list. We have things to work towards to make the house perfect, and I know that we'll get to them sooner or later, but it's mine. My house.

It's insane.

The boys have adjusted well to their new school. They've become involved in sports and have made tons of friends and love to be outside terrorizing the neighborhood with the other kids. The older kids enjoy not having to bounce back and forth between two towns to spend time with each parent, and the stress level has decreased greatly.

Life is good.

Do I have 'resolutions' for next year? Not really. Goals? Yes. But I hesitate to call them resolutions, only because I know the failure rate of my so-called resolutions.

Am I going to list them out for the world to see? Nope. Not this time. Sometimes, I do better when I don't have an audience. Sometimes, it's better to do things just for myself, and then it's more fun if someone else happens to notice.

I will say that I'm officially signed up for two half-marathons already, but that shouldn't come as a surprise for anyone who has been around for a while. I have some other health-related goals, and some financial ones, and some personal ones. I do hope to write more, and take more pictures, and sew more.

Regardless, I'm ready to see what 2015 has in store for me.

Bring it on.

Got a few things done today...

I started out putting the finishing touches on the dining room curtains, which included washing the drapes. They came with the house, so there's no telling how old they actually are - but they're old. I was feeling brave so I tossed them into the washer on the 'handwash' cycle and hung them out on the line to dry. They survived, although the linings needed to be repaired because the fabric shredded in places.

But, they are hanging back up, complete with the new sheers that I made. I got regular sheers at the Dollar Store and shortened them and added the pleats, and got the full set for about $10.

Someday I might actually hang the birdhouses outside.

Then I went outside. The Dude and I planted some raspberry and blueberry bushes before we went on vacation, and then we just kind of tossed the bricks over there so that we had an idea of how many we needed to do the edging, but that was as far as we got. I finished that project up rather quickly, before the sun hit that part of the yard.

Before...

After...

Then - for some bizarre reason - I decided to tackle the fence around the shed. I've been working on getting this corner of the yard cleaned up because with it being outside of the fence, it looks awful as people are driving past. The fence right there was useless - most of it was just leaning against the shed, and what was still attached to anything was rotten.

Side. Isn't that a lovely fence?

Back - this section of fence was actually in the best condition.
Go figure.

It really didn't take much effort to pull the fencing down. I eventually got a hammer to break apart a few pieces, but most of it was so rotten that I could just pull it down. The posts had rotted off at the bases and I was able to just knock them down too - although they did take a little more effort. I took all of the wood and just tossed it over the fence into the firepit area - we'll pull the nails and burn it all eventually.

What was left of the window had a couple of pieces of screen just nailed over it, so I pulled those off and found out that the entire window was coming out of the wall, so I beat that back in with the hammer and then pulled out the broken glass so that I could put plexiglass in instead.

Obviously, we need to paint it. And plant stuff.

So much better.

Pulling out the glass to put in plexiglass.

We have a little bit of firewood to cut and stack.

Once I got all of that done, it was shower time and then time to pick up all 3 boys from school. We came home and did homework and then ran back into town to get the Traverse from the shop and then grabbed pizzas and then picked Sarah up from volleyball practice.....

Starting tomorrow, life gets more interesting. The girls are already into the swing of volleyball, and with one in high school and one in middle school they no longer play at the same time and the same place - instead it's twice as much running to get to as many of their games as possible. Alex and Daniel start soccer practice tomorrow night, and of course - they're on different teams. The Dude and I are now sharing a calendar so that we can keep track of what we're both doing and can tag team to get everyone where they need to be.

It's a good thing that I "binge slept" last week - because there won't be any more of that happening for a long time.

It's a little ridiculous...

This week has been crazy busy. It's not like that's unusual for me, because my life is always crazy busy, but for some reason it seemed worse this week. Maybe it's because we're just getting back into the swing of the school schedule. Maybe it's because the kids are revving up their sports schedules. Maybe it's because I still have so much to do on the house.

I'm pretty sure that it's a combination of a lot of those things, plus a whole lot more.

It's funny though. I caught myself the other day - I was standing at the stove making cookies at the time. The boys had come home from school and absolutely begged me to let them go to the park. I had so much stuff to do and as much as I hated to admit it - I didn't feel like going with them. I relented and allowed the three of them to go to the park without me - after giving them a specific list of rules and an even more specific list of what their punishments would be if I even remotely thought that they had gotten out of line - and sent them the 4 blocks to the park.

I think that's when it hit me.

I had clothes hanging out in the summer sun on my new clothesline. I had cookies in the oven. Supper was ready to go into the oven as soon as the cookies came out of it. Laundry was in the washer. I had been puttering around the house, both inside and out, getting projects done all day long. The boys were at the park. The girls were at volleyball practice.

My life is ridiculous right now. Ridiculously wonderful. Ridiculously right.

I get so stressed out by the amount of work that I still have to do on this house - and I know that it will NEVER be completely done. But a lot of it needs to be done, and at times it seems so overwhelming - but it'll get done.

I spent the last year or two in my old-old house trying to figure out how to get out of it because I knew that it was going to go into foreclosure. Then we moved into the ghetto-esque house and although we knew it was only temporary, we were there for 3 1/2 years.

Now, we're in OUR house. The one that we will stay in for a very long time. For the first time in many years, I feel like I am where I belong, and it feels so ridiculously perfect that I can't even begin to describe it.

I've slept more in the last couple of days than I've slept in the last couple of months, and I think at least part of that is because it's finally starting to hit me that I don't have to keep pushing myself to get stuff done. It's just stuff - and realistically, most of it is cosmetic stuff. I've gotten way more done than I give myself credit for doing, and I didn't realize it until I sat down and started looking through pictures from when we first looked at the house and compared them to what it looks like now. Only then did I realize how much I've done already.

I am so ridiculously grateful right now.

Life is so good - when we take the time to notice.

Backyard Cleanup

I've been wanting to resurrect the blog since I hardly ever post anything here anymore, so here it is. Nothing exciting, but a few pictures from what I got accomplished today.

I've been working out in the yard a lot this past week, trying to get things cleaned up out there because while it doesn't look that bad on the surface, it's actually a horrible mess. There are rocks and bricks and random chunks of concrete all over the place, there are dead trees and branches and stumps that need to be removed, there's a horrible metal edging thing around a flowerbed that needs to be ripped out and replaced - and that's just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

Today, a friend sent her son up with a chainsaw and he helped me to get rid of some stumps and cut some branches off of an old cedar tree out behind the shed - that area needs a ton of work yet, but we were obviously doing something really right (or really wrong) when people were slowing down to STARE at what we were doing. One lady almost ran off of the road in her effort to stare us down - it was odd to say the least.

Anyway.....this is basically our firewood area. We've just been tossing anything wooden back there and it's gotten overgrown and downright ghetto-looking, so I straightened that up today. We're hoping to use some of the old fence slats to patch the holes in the parts that are still standing - hopefully it won't look too horrible until we have time to replace the whole thing.

Before...

After...

And then there's this tree... I've cut it down once already and it's back up to this. We want to get rid of it so that we have easier access to the lean-to part of the shed, because once that's cleaned out we're going to put the firewood in there to keep it from getting wet - but that is going to take a while.

Now you see it...

The tree disappeared today. Again.

Now you don't!

There is still a ton of stuff out there that I need to do. Besides just the normal mowing, we have a few sections of fence that need to come down, we have more wood that needs to be cut up into firewood length, we have at least a load of stuff to go to the local burn site, we have flowerbeds to redo, rocks to move..... and that's just the start of it.

I'm exhausted. My feet are swollen and sore. But I'm slowly getting stuff done. Having the kids in school during the week helps out a bunch and gives me time to not only get things done but to also relax once in a while. Right now I'm really only dealing with sports practice schedules, which aren't so bad - but volleyball games are going to start soon, and at that point I will lose what little bit is left of my mind.

One day at a time...

Home

Today has been a good day.

The boys and I got up and took The Dude's truck to go back to town and swap it out to get my Traverse back from him after his road trip yesterday. I didn't expect him to be up and moving after driving for almost 24 hours straight, but he was - so we snatched him up to run some errands. Before we left his parking lot, his landlord - who was my property manager at the ghetto-esque house - caught me to finally give me the last of my security deposit back and so we chatted with him for a while. He took us to a vacant apartment to look at some furniture that I am most likely going to try to buy, and then he went back to his office and The Dude went with us to run errands.

We went to the bank and to the car wash to get rid of the skunk smell in the Traverse and then stopped for lunch and had some amazing Mediterranean food (shawarma, anyone?) and then took The Dude back home, and then the boys and I went to WalHell to get a few things before we came back home.

Home.

Once we got back, I started working on bikes. I worked on putting a new rack on the back of my bike so that I don't have to stick stuff in a backpack every time we go somewhere. But, I needed a bigger allen wrench for it, so we hopped on the bikes and rode over to the hardware store to get one. Then we came back home.

Home.

Once we got back here, I got the tube and tire changed on Alex's wheel, and we put it on my new rack on my bike and rode over to the convenience store to air it up before we came back home to put it on his bike.

Home.

I got the wheel put back on his bike, and tightened up the handlebars on the 'spare' bike that he had been using while his tire was flat and then we came inside for a while. I did a few things around the house and grabbed something to eat before I headed back outside to the firepit/shed area to do some work. Several hours later, I felt like I had made enough progress - and suffered enough mosquito bites - that I could quit and come inside.

While I was outside working, at least 90% of the traffic that went by was either combines, grain trucks, or other harvest equipment. The drivers were all up high enough that they could look over the fence where I was working and almost all of them smiled and waved - a normal occurrence around here. It made me so grateful that I live here now, instead of in the city where no one would even look someone else in the eye.

Home.

After I came inside and showered some of the filth off of me, I sat down and played around online and watched a movie for a bit. After a while, I got up to do a couple of little things and as I walked around the house, it kind of hit me again.

Home.

It's crazy. I still can't believe that somehow *I* managed to buy a house. Not just any house, but a really cool, really big, really awesome house. It's mine.

It's still surreal. Unbelievable.

In a way, I'm still waiting for the bank to call me and say "Oh, you thought you were buying that house? Hahahaha, joke's on you, sister! There's no way we're going to let that happen! Bring the keys back immediately!"

OK, I know that's not going to happen....but in a way it wouldn't surprise me if it did. I still wait for the proverbial shoe to drop, because that's what has always happened.

But it's not going to happen this time. It is what it is. It's mine. The house is mine.

It's our home.

At some point, it'll sink in and seem real, right?

The house and stuff

As a continuation of the questions that people asked the other night, I figured I'd go with the topic of the house.

Honestly, this whole I Now Own A House thing is still so surreal. I catch myself smiling as I drive down the street toward it, thinking "Hey, that's a pretty cool house over there on the corner. Well, would you look at that? It's mine." Seriously. I have conversations in my head like that on a regular basis.

"I'm going to stroll down my hallway into my bedroom past my walk-in closet and go to my bathroom to use my toilet." Then I sit on the toilet and look around and think "Yeah, I think I'm going to rip this tile out of here and just paint the walls - because you know, it's MINE."

"I think I'm going to rip this hideous bush out of the flowerbed and plant something else, just because I can."

"I'm going to put my garden over there. No, I want my clothesline there. The garden can go over THERE."

It's an odd feeling, this MINE thing.

But at the same time, it brings a whole host of frustrations. I had help with the actual move, as in relocating stuff from the old house to here. But that's pretty much where it ended. The Dude hasn't been able to do a whole bunch because of medical stuff, so the majority of it has been on me. For the most part, I'm ok with that. I'm a bit of a control freak about some a lot of most stuff. What's hard though is when I ask for help, and there's no one there for whatever reason. Tonight, with Alex's help (you know, the 8 year old who just had a skin graft done on Monday?) I was able to move the pool table out of the way so that I could get the floor underneath it painted - I have been trying and trying to get help with that, but .... yeah. It's moved. The floor is primed. I should be able to paint it and get the pool table put back by the end of the weekend, with or without help from a grown-up. I also pulled everything out of Jared's room and primed his floor so that I can get his room done too.

(And before any of my local friends get offended, this isn't aimed at anyone in particular. Got it?)

I still have a ton of work to do yet. I have to finish the basement, which involves a few more steps to getting the floor done, then moving the massive pile of craft stuff out of the living room and sorting it out down there, to actually getting my craft stuff set up so that I can catch up on projects whose due dates passed MONTHS ago - literally. I am desperate to get my basement done just so that I can catch up on everything and get stuff out to the people who are waiting for it.

But honestly, looking around this place makes me realize again how lucky I am. I talked the other night about how I can afford to own a house and even though I know that for at least right now, I don't have to worry about having the money to make the payment every month, I feel a responsibility to make improvements on the house to make it acceptable (in my eyes) for the kids. I have a fear that something big is going to break and I'm not going to have the money to fix it. For example, the central air is acting a little wonky right now - and I'm terrified that it's going to cost me a lot of money when realistically it's probably something stupid. But I'm doing something amazing here - I bought a house. Me. Just me. Alone. It's mine.

And that, to me, is so amazing that I can't even begin to explain. I just can't. There are no words.

At the same time though, while it's mine on paper - realistically The Dude and I bought it together. We looked at every house together and we discussed everything and made every decision as a couple. He doesn't live here - yet - but ultimately, this is going to be the home that we share. He has had a bunch of health issues over the past few months that have put some kinks in some of our plans - but the plans are still there. For now, I am doing the physical stuff - and he is my biggest and loudest cheerleader. We are working toward combining households, but there are so many things that have to happen in order to get there.

Finally for the million dollar question about whether or not we'll ever get married.....I still say never.

(If you want some background on that, you can check out this post and then this post to get the basic understanding.)

Marriage still terrifies me to no end. The Dude and I have now been together for almost 2 1/2 years, and life is good. We don't get to spend nearly enough time together for a myriad of reasons, and I'll be totally honest and admit that I've been picking fights with him - but I'm going to blame it on stress and not seeing enough of each other and stress. I get pissed, I get unreasonable and obnoxious and hateful and yell at him, and he calls me out on it and then we kiss and make up. And then I sit here and wonder "what just happened?" and "why is he still here?" Bottom line is that he IS still here - and that in and of itself is terrifying to me because it's making me think that maybe he really IS planning on sticking around for the long haul.

Even after 2 1/2 years, I'm still getting used to the idea that he's not going to walk away any time soon - but that's still not enough to convince my overly dense head that he might just stay around forever.

One day at a time. It applies to so many things right now.

Vehicles and Beds...

This is just going to be a quickie to answer some specific questions that have been posed several times over the past few weeks. I figured it was easier to just do it here....

The girls' beds....this is basically what they turned out looking like.

The first one is Emily's. She wanted hers to be lower than Sarah did, so this is what she and I designed. It's all just 3/4" plywood and there's a piece on the back (against the wall) to keep anything that is shoved into the cubbies from going out the other side - and to make the whole thing sturdier.

We are going to do the zebra duct tape on all of the edges - it's easier than sanding them all down and it looks cool. I think she's eventually going to paint the inside of the cubbies too, but that's up to her to decide.

Sarah wanted taller, so she designed hers to be taller - although it would drive me insane. I did put a second piece of plywood across the top of hers to further reinforce it to support the weight of her and her mattress. So far she has opted not to paint hers - we'll see if she changes her mind or not.

Both of the beds just take a standard twin-sized mattress. They are heavy and they are not going anywhere. Literally. They won't fit through the doors of the rooms.

Now on to the bigger question.....

The vehicle.

I still don't know what to call it. It's not really a van, or a car, or an SUV. I think technically it's a crossover, whatever that means.

Anyway......

My minivan died a few months ago, shortly after I paid it off. So I had to get something different.  But, I was in the middle of financing the house, so I couldn't run out and finance something else and risk screwing up my credit, right?

Enter the GrandpaCar - the Grand Marquis - I bought it from a friend's grandfather because I needed something that the kids and I could all fit into, but not have to be financed. It worked for us, but it was very crowded and uncomfortable.

I kept putting money aside into what I was calling the "house/van" fund - money to be used for both. I also got a very sizable tax refund which went straight into that fund. Once the house was settled and we closed and we had gotten done with the initial "big" expenses, I did some figuring and decided that I could start looking for another minivan. So I called a couple of the local dealerships and basically said "I need something used, inexpensive, mechanically sound, and can seat 7 - find it for me" and turned them loose.

One of them called me back the next day and said "I know you said minivan, but what about a Traverse? It seats 8....." The Dude and I went and looked at it with no intentions of buying it at all - I really just wanted to see how something that was NOT a minivan could seat 8 people. Long story short, I liked it. We went back home and I researched it and liked what I could find on the safety stuff and whatnot, and the price that they had on it was a couple of thousand below the blue book value. So we started talking money and I said that I was thinking about just scrapping my dead van - instead the dealership sent a couple of guys out to the house to look at it and they ended up offering me an insane (to me) amount of money in trade.

Between what they were asking for the Traverse, what I could afford to put down, and what they gave me for the dead van, I was able to get the payments under where I wanted them to be AND get a really good warranty on it. At that point, I would be stupid to not get it.....so I got it. I kept the GrandpaCar  for a bunch of reasons, not the least of which is that I have a kid who will be driving in a few months - and whether she likes it or not, she can drive that. And since The Dude's truck is iffy at times, he can drive it when he needs to go out of town or whatever.

Any other questions? :)

Dear House...

I left you today.

When I found you, I was desperate. I had no place to go. I searched and searched to try to find a place that would work for my family, and I couldn't find anything. Finally, you came along. When the kids and I walked in and looked around, we knew right away that we could use you, even if it wasn't going to be very comfortable. The landlord was willing to work with a single mom with 5 kids and no income, even if it meant that he would have to wait for the rent payments to come through the homeless prevention program that was assisting me.

Emotionally, I was at an all-time low in my life. Depression had truly gotten the best of me, and I didn't know what I was going to do next. My church family moved us - seriously, they packed up our stuff and moved us because I just couldn't do it. Honestly, I don't know if they even realized the extent of the darkness surrounding me at that point in my life. Whether they did or not, they stepped up and rescued me.

I remember standing in the middle of the living room as people moved in and out, carrying boxes and bags and piling them up in any empty space they could find. When you were packed completely full, they started stacking stuff on the porches. I sobbed as the amount of stuff in such a tiny place seemed to swallow me alive.

It took what seemed like forever for me to get my act together and get things straightened up and organized. I donated tons of stuff to get rid of it and make room, because going from a 2 story 4 bedroom house with an office and tons of storage, to you with only 2 bedrooms and zero storage made downsizing not only necessary, but mandatory. It felt good to get rid of so much crap - both literally and figuratively, because as I got rid of some of it, I felt the emotional baggage go along with it.

As time went on, I started to see the light. I got my stuff organized and I got my feelings organized. I started living life again. I filed for divorce and waited patiently for it to become final, which would happen on my 40th birthday. And 20 days after that, my ex-husband died and I boarded one of the biggest, scariest, longest lasting emotional rollercoasters ever created. His death was the last thing that I ever wanted, the last thing I ever expected, and easily one of the hardest things that I have ever had to go through in my life.

I spent hours sitting at the table in your kitchen, dealing with Social Security and pensions and death benefits and bill collectors and the IRS, trying to make sense of it all. And when I couldn't focus anymore, I'd fall over on the futon in the corner of your living room and sleep for a few hours until I had to get up and face another day.

Within your walls, I started to rebuild my life. I started dating, and then I stopped to deal with the emotions of his death. And then I started to live again.

I helped my kids with their homework. I did their laundry and packed their lunches and baked their birthday cakes. I planted flowers and cut the grass and replaced light switches. I canned sand plums and strawberry jam and applesauce. I fixed the She-Beast time and time again in your driveway. I held my kids while they cried and I disciplined them when they needed it and kissed their boo-boos that they got from playing in the yard. I started dating this crazy guy and then fell in love with him and even got up the nerve to tell him that I loved him in the front room in the wee hours of the morning before a road trip to Kansas City to take a friend to the airport.

And through all of this, I learned so much about myself. I learned just how strong I can really be - and at the same time that I don't have to always be so strong. I learned that I can take care of myself and my family, but that it is also ok to ask for help once in a while - or to accept it when it is offered. I learned that if you want something bad enough, you can get it - even if it takes a lot of time, effort, and patience to get there.

As we've been packing up our lives and moving stuff out over the past few weeks, I've been hit with emotional waves more often than I'd care to admit. As much as I complained about how small you were and OMG Why Can't We Have A House With More Than One Toilet, I loved you dearly. You were there for me in so many ways, not just as a house, but as a home, a shelter, and a place to grow.

There are so many amazing memories that happened within your walls. But what I will remember most is that I found the most important thing in my life within your walls.

I found myself.

The Ghetto-esque House
Sept. 1, 2010 - March 7, 2014

Maybe it's official....

Lots of stuff still going on with the house. After all of the chaos that was Friday, we had a fairly quiet weekend. I waited to hear back from Mortgage Lady because she said she was going to touch base with me on Sunday, but I didn't hear from her.

Yesterday morning, I got an email from a woman who works with Mortgage Lady. She needed some additional info (mainly documentation of that bill being paid off) and so we emailed back and forth several times until I got an email from her that about knocked me out of my seat....

Unfortunately {Mortgage Lady} is no longer with us. I believe that she is still going to finish the files that she has but she will not be in the {local} office.

Wait, what????!?!?!! What do you mean?!?!?! Mortgage Lady has been there for me from the get-go! She's been there since before I even started the process! How can she just leave me hanging like this??? Noooooooooo.......

After I got over my initial panic, Mortgage Lady 2.0 explained that she had been working with Mortgage Lady the entire time, and everything would be fine. She knows my story, she knows my file, and there is nothing to worry about.

Uh huh. Sure. Easy for her to say.

Anyway, more emails between me and Mortgage Lady 2.0, and me and Realtor Lady, and I started to think that maybe, just maybe things were going to be ok. They seemed way calmer about the whole situation than I was, so I did my best to take my cues from them.

I didn't have to work today, so after I got the boys to school I came home and started puttering around. I had gotten some empty boxes from work and decided to start in the laundry room, which has been a store room to a ton of games and toys that the kids just don't use anymore. I started going through the stuff and trashed the ones that were missing too many pieces, packed the ones that I want to keep, and posted the rest on facebook in the hopes that some of my friends would want to adopt some new games.

I actually made a little bit of progress, although there's still way more to do - but at least I got started. No more denial - time to start packing.

The Dude came over to hang out for a while this afternoon and we were talking about everything that has been happening with all of this. Then the emails started flying again. Long story short, closing is now officially scheduled for Monday, January 27 at 3:00pm.

Officially. Like.....it's going to happen.

*commence panic attack #745,812 of this process*

At that point we decided to go out and grab a (very) late lunch. As we ate, he tried to talk me down from my freak out (he failed miserably) and we just tried to absorb the enormity of what is about to happen.

As I go through this process, there are so many emotions that go along with it. On the outside, it's just me buying a house - not such a big deal. People do it every day.

But there's also the doubt, the fear, the caution that it might not happen. I know in my head at this point, it's going to happen. But it seems like such a stretch for me - ME - to be doing this. I've made some pretty stupid choices in my life, and none of them should have led me in this direction, but here I am about to commit to a 6-figure investment that in a way I feel that I don't even deserve.

I know that realistically, I could not afford to do this without the Social Security. And I am well-aware that I would not be receiving that if my second husband hadn't passed away. That makes this whole process more than a bit bittersweet for me. I still battle with the feelings of guilt over his death, even though I know that it wasn't my fault. I struggle with the thought that the money that Daniel and I get because he died is what is making the home of my dreams a reality for me - but at the same time, I know that I am doing the right thing by making sure that we have a home that suits our needs in so many ways.

I think about my battle to avoid homelessness a few years ago, and can't wrap my head around the fact that very soon, we will be in a house with 6 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms and more than enough room to meet our needs plus some.

Overwhelming doesn't even begin to describe it. Seriously, there are no words to describe how I'm feeling right now. I wish that I could explain it, and I will probably ramble on and on about it over the next few weeks as I try to work through all of it in my head. All I know is that right now, I'm caught somewhere between ecstatic and numb - and feeling maybe a little bit of both.

Progress.....I think.

*gasp*

Two blog posts in two days? Can it be????

Seriously though, I want to do better about this, plus use this as sort of a journal of the last leg of this house-buying journey.

Alex and Daniel didn't have school today, so we slept in a little bit. I had to get Alex to Wichita this morning for an allergist appointment, so when I woke up I knew we had to get moving fairly soon. I checked my phone to see what notifications I had, and there was an email from Mortgage Lady. I read it and quickly grabbed the laptop.

Basically, what she said was that the Rural Development people had already gone over everything, and there were a couple of things that I needed to do. One was to pay off a really really old bill - back in my past life, an old cable bill had gone to collections and stayed there. When we started working on my credit report, we ignored that one for several reasons, but we knew that it would probably have to be paid prior to closing on the house. When my file went to the underwriters, they made me pay off another one that was in collections, but never said anything about this one - so we hoped that they were going to ignore it. Long story short, they didn't ignore it, and I had to pay it. No biggie - I was prepared, plus today was payday from work so the money was already in my checking account. I dug up the number for the collection agency, called them and paid it in full before I even got out of bed.

I emailed Mortgage Lady to let her know. She would need verification as soon as they processed the payment so I called the collection agency back and they said that they would fax her the info.

The boys and I hopped into the GrandpaCar and took off for Wichita. The appointment went well and we grabbed a quick lunch afterwards. Another email from Mortgage Lady arrived - the "dirt work" has to be done.

"Dirt work" - another long story.

Shortened version - structural engineer inspected the house and it passed with flying colors. On his report, he put a disclaimer that he puts on every single one of his reports saying that there should be dirt put around the foundation sloping away from the house to help with drainage. Rural Development now decided that this HAS to be done. We had a feeling that this was going to happen too, so Realtor Lady already had a spare load of dirt dumped at the house (the woman is awesome). I tried unsuccessfully to locate a wheelbarrow on my way back from Wichita, and instead stopped and bought one. Seriously - I've been wanting one for a while (who in their right mind wants to buy a wheelbarrow? and do you know how expensive those things are? and how hard they are to fit in the trunk of the GrandpaCar?) so I just bought it. Boom.

Came home, changed clothes, bought lunch for The Dude, took that to him, tossed the wheelbarrow in the back of his truck, threw him the keys to the GrandpaCar, and took off to the house.

I spent the next 3-4 hours moving wheelbarrow loads of dirt from the driveway to the side of the house, as well as battling the boys to NOT throw piles of dirt in the driveway, and to stay out of the truck, and to stay where I could see them, and no I'm not driving across town just to get you a drink, yada yada yadaaaaa......

Suddenly another truck pulled into the driveway. A man and a woman got out and the man introduced himself to me as the seller.

Oooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh......so YOU are the man who has been a total pain in my ass since this thing started? I had to stop myself from saying it out loud. The woman with him was his mother-in-law, who also happens to be his realtor.

Great.

We actually had a very nice visit. We chatted about the house in general and I told them how I had immediately fallen in love with it. I told them about some of our plans, and as soon as I mentioned putting a clothesline in out back, I immediately got on the mother-in-law's good side and she joined in on the conversation. They shared a little bit more about the history of the house and I told them that I was interested in learning anything that they want to share about it. It was awesome, and they admitted that they were relieved that someone wasn't going to just buy it and flip it, but was instead going to fix it up and live in it and love it. I told them about how I had lost everything and was days away from being homeless a few years ago, and how that made this whole process so much more important for me. All in all I think that it was a great little chat and having that face-to-face interaction was a nice surprise prior to meeting over the closing documents.

I did find it amusing that he is planning to pay someone to move the pool table out of the basement just so that he can sell it. I told him that he is more than welcome to leave it there, but he really wants to sell it. I'm curious to see if it actually happens or not - it honestly doesn't bother me one way or another. It would be nice to have, but I can use the added floor space just as much as I can use the table.

Oh, and they're taking the rocks out of the one flowerbed. Yes, the rocks. But, in his defense they're from various camping trips all over the country, so they do actually have sentimental value.

He also warned me that the neighborhood can be kind of competitive when it comes to yardwork.

Ha. Bring it.

In the meantime, more emails back and forth. Mortgage Lady was having trouble getting the verification that she needed from the collection agency, so I called them again. As it turned out, I had to fax them something with my signature for them to release the information to her (and you didn't tell me that this morning because...............?????) and since The Dude's truck isn't equipped with a portable fax machine, I had to cut my dirt moving short, drive back to town, stop at my bank, scrounge up a piece of paper, write out the authorization, and have them fax it to Mortgage Lady. I emailed her to let her know that they now had the authorization - so hopefully she got what she needed from them.

Back to the house to dump the wheelbarrow into the garage, then to The Dude's work to swap vehicles with him, then out to grab something to eat. Then home again.

Baths. Cleaning. Laundry. Preparing to go back to work tomorrow. Hoping that The Dude is over his stomach bug enough that he can handle the boys all day while I'm stuck in Fast Food Hell. Still trying to figure out how to deal with this whole job thing. Making lists of things that need to be done in both houses before/during/after the move. Hoping to win the lottery just to make life easier.

Just another day.....

Could this be THE ONE?

House hunting isn't for sissies.

Look at the natural light, and not the carpet.

The Dude and I have now looked at about 15-20 houses over the past 6 months or more. Some of them - we really liked. And some of them - not so much.

But we saw this one last week. And then we saw it again today. And we're in love.

It was built in 1967. At the time, it was *the* house in the town. It was *the* location for dinner parties and open houses. People actually paid money to walk through the house during the holidays to look at the decorations. The owners were very active in the community and were very well-loved and respected.

It will be worth getting a landline just to see if it works.

Time took its toll. He passed away in 2004. She passed away earlier this year. Judging from the appearance of the house, although it was well-maintained, it was never updated. Almost everything is original.

Counting rooms in the basement that can't be advertised as such, there are 6 bedrooms. Six. One for everyone.

There are 3 bathrooms. Three. As in, 3 toilets - so 3 people can use the bathroom at one time. That in and of itself is a major selling point.

I think the Bradys might live next door.

There are 2 fireplaces. There is a 2 car garage. There are 2 kitchens. There is a huge yard. There are a ton of closets and cubbies and places to store things.

It's hideous.

And we love it.

We love the gaudiness of it. We love the crazy wallpaper and the funky light fixtures and the unusual room dividers. We love the location and the yard and the amount of work that it's going to take.

The fixtures. Look at the fixtures.

We know that it won't be an easy job - but we also know what we want to see in this house, and we both feel that we can do it.

So....while nothing is official yet, we have let our realtor know that this is the house for us. She is going to get the ball rolling to see if we can get into it.

The price is right. The payments would be well within the affordable range.

All of the kids would finally be in the same school district.

All of the kids could finally have their own bedrooms.

I could finally own a home and stop paying rent.

For some reason, I love this gaudy wallpaper.

There are so many positives right now. But of course there are always negatives. There are inspections and other hurdles to jump before we can say that we're officially planning to buy it. At this point, it could all still very easily fall through and we could not get this house.

But, at the same time, things could very well fall into place.

Only time will tell.

Natural light. Built-in shelves. And that light.
What's not to love?

Love. Just...... love.

One of the fireplaces. And built-ins. And The Dude.

Second full kitchen - in the basement.

The basement definitely needs TLC.

Seriously. That's only part of the yard.

*** Just a reminder - if you know me (or even if you don't) and you know where this house is, please don't say it. We all know it's in Kansas, but just leave it at that, ok? Thanks!

I never thought it would happen. Never.

You know, it's kind of funny. When I was kid, I loved to draw. Whenever I drew a house, it always looked the same - kind of like this...

I never claimed to be an artist.

Anyway, as The Dude and I have been out shopping for houses, we found one that we both like. A lot. And the funny thing is that it really kind of looks like the house that I always drew as a kid. Except it's straighter. And prettier. And has a front porch. And a hot tub. But I digress.....

We were shopping for houses with the knowledge that my credit wasn't quite where it needed to be yet. I've been working on it, but as anyone who has shoddy credit knows, it's a process. I have been working with an agency that has been busting their butts to get negative stuff removed for the past few months. We thought that I was where I needed to be a couple of months ago when my scores suddenly tanked. I was heartbroken. As it turned out, an old debt (to the tune of $3000+) that has been in collections for years - and that I have been faithfully making payments on for years - was sold to a new collection agency, who in turn started reporting it as new debt. It killed my credit.

Fast forward to about 2 weeks ago when I got a letter in the mail. It was from one of the credit reporting agencies. Nervously, I opened it. 

According to the letter, that particular negative piece of information was deleted from my credit report. Deleted. Thinking back to how much of a negative impact it had when it appeared, I wondered what kind of a positive impact it would have when it disappeared.

As the battle against this particular creditor was happening, I paid off my credit cards. I also paid off a couple of smaller debts with the agreement that those creditors would remove the negative information from my report. I also got the raise at work, and the Social Security that Daniel and I receive increased at the same time.

So on Friday, I was able to check my new and improved credit scores through an online deal that was set up by the credit-report-cleaner-upper-people (my official name for them). I already know that the numbers that I see are slightly higher than the official numbers, so when I saw on Friday that they were high enough, I anxiously contacted Mortgage Lady (also her official name). She was excited to hear the news, and we agreed to meet this morning.

Fast forward to about 2am today, when Daniel's official name changed to Sir Pukesalot. He kept that up for the rest of the night, but seemed to level out a bit. The Dude had planned to go and meet with Mortgage Lady with me, but because Daniel was so sick I emailed her and asked her to just pull my credit report without me and to call me, rather than run the risk of Daniel hurling in her office. The Dude came over and we waited by the phone. Finally she called.

It's official. My credit score is now high enough to qualify for a mortgage.

I started shaking and pacing around the house while I talked to her. I'm not officially pre-qualified for anything yet because there is still one account on my credit report that is showing as "in dispute" - so I have to contact all 3 agencies and tell them to remove that because nothing can happen while there is an active dispute. Minor detail, really. But qualifying for "our" house will not be an issue - and we can actually look at houses in a higher price range than I would have even thought possible.

I contacted the realtor who has been helping us, and "our" house is still on the market.

I am completely and totally overwhelmed right now. Just over 3 years ago, I was on the verge of being homeless. People were sending me money to try to help me save my old house, but it wasn't enough and it went into foreclosure and we were forced to move. We moved into this house only because I qualified for assistance at the time - but I had no idea how I was going to pay the rent when that assistance ended, which was only 3 months. Then my ex passed away and the Social Security started and through the emotional turmoil that followed, the bills started getting paid regularly. It was a horrible way to get the bills paid, but I did what I had to do with what I had - and it's led me to where I am today. Between the Social Security and the job - I will be able to own a house, and soon. 

Me. The same person who was days away from being homeless just 3 years ago - will be buying a house within the next few months.

It's crazy and mind boggling and overwhelming and exciting and scary and surreal, all at the same time.