This Is It!

Back to school.  Those three simple words fill me with such emotion today that I am annoying myself.  If you have been following my blog even for a brief time, you must know by now that my oldest is a senior in high school and you probably already have decided that I am not fine with this at all.  Interestingly, it has nothing to do with me getting older though I am none too happy with that fact either but, my displeasure in his new found 'senior' status stems from what will happen at the end of this short year.  Yes, he is going to graduate and leave me.  Yes, I know how selfish (okay bordering on certifiable, I know) I am being in never wanting that to happen but I feel like a two-year-old in the throes of a tantrum.  NO! NO! NO! I don't want my children leaving home!  I love all the noise and chaos, the endless stream of meals to be made and the never-ending laundry (that might be a stretch) and I love how much they need me even if it is just to find something that had it been put away properly, they would not need me to find at all.

My son's departure next summer will completely upset the apple cart that is my life so to speak.  Take 'back to school photos' as an example.  I have a tradition where each child stands by the front door, hand on the handle, backpack on shoulder, smiling at the camera.  So what will I have to do next year?  Hire a stand-in? Do I really only need to cajole three not four children into taking this picture?  Impossible.  What about my group shot in front of the door?  Who is going to bully the younger ones to get the larger shot in the picture? (that never seems to grow old for him).  Who will yell 'shut up' to his siblings or blast the radio to drown out their never ending stream of chatter all the way to school?  I don't know of any stand-in worthy of such a lofty honor.

Before I became a first-time mom, I read 26 books on everything from baby in utero to baby heading off to kindergarten.  Unfortunately for me, first-time mom never ever gave one thought to 'baby heading off to college.'  Being the apparent glutton for punishment that I seem to be, I never found one of those books for any of my subsequent children either because if I had, I certainly would have spaced those children better than I did.  You see, with my children being spaced as they are, I barely have time to come up for air before the next one walks out the door, too. Damn, I never learn.

Killing Me Softly

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!

Realty Lingo Must Go

This new real estate lexicon is driving me crazy.  No longer do people simply not like something about your home.  Now, they are 'offended' by it or 'turned off' by it.  It is driving me crazy.  I keep telling my wood floors not to say anything that can be misconstrued as mean to potential buyers but, time and again, the buyers are offended by my floors.  I suppose I should have had a conversation with our brick exterior to turn on its charm because, apparently, our most recent showing did not go well as the buyers were 'turned off' by my brick.  The shame.  While I am certainly not insinuating that everyone who enters my home need clamour to buy it--though that would be nice--I do fantasize about losing all the colorful language in feedback.  I am a big girl, really, I can handle someone hating the look of my inlaid floor.  Of course, it might be nice to hear the realtor tell me that she tried to explain how it is far less costly to buy a beautiful rug to cover said floors than it is to tear up and replace the creepy old wall to wall I have been seeing in our own home search.  As for the brick, that is a personal choice, but I would love to just hear the cold hard truth. With all this crazy descriptive language going on,  I am waiting to be told that our lawn caused buyers' 'heartache' or that seeing my ceiling fan 'ruined their lives.' 

My husband is always complaining that I live in a world that is totally black and white (his world, of course, is way more than 50 shades of gray...minds out of the gutter, please, I am talking about colors here and colors only). This fact drives him crazy but I am a straight shooter, painfully honest, and while I may not make lots of friends as a result, I tell it like it is.  So, please Mrs. Realtor, the next time a potential buyer does not like something about my house, just tell me the plain and simple truth and I will try not to be 'offended' or 'turned off' by what you have to say.