I used to think that my children would be the death of me particularly my youngest with his 6.5 year 'phase' of not sleeping through the night. This summer was a game changer, however, and I now realize that I had been mistaken. My darling angels will not have a hand in my early demise, but selling this house is going to send me straight to a psych ward or six feet under. From the price reductions (yes, we just took another one today) to the frustrations with our realtor to the mayhem that precedes a showing, I am losing brain cells and my patience faster than my Suburban blows through gas. All I want is a little calm for the children. I swear after the past five years they really have no concept what it is like to live in a home without wondering if they will be there the following year. The 'For Sale' sign is yet another lawn ornament to them, they have learned to play around it.
From the very bottom of my heart today, I am 100% fed up with this process. On the bright side (snarky sarcasm here), we will start the day tomorrow with a brand spanking new price and reworded copy in our listing, courtesy my suggestion. I need to sell this house and turn the page on this extremely long chapter in our lives. When that moving truck finally pulls up for us, I truly don't know how I will contain myself!