My step-father took this photo of our little set-up on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I can’t think of a better sight… but then again, I’ve got a few really awesome pictures of my sleeve. You’ll have to wait until Friday, though.
I am not quiet home, but I am no longer at the beach. There is so much to write about, so little time, and too short a post, but let’s see where we get.
First things first: I just got through all of your comments from last week and even peeked at my stats, too. I’m so utterly overwhelmed by the positive response from those three pieces that I wrote. Thank you for reading and thank you for responding! This, of course, set a very bad precedent: I can’t write with that kind of clarity and quality all of the time! What have I done!? I don’t know how I’m going to meet your very high expectations of me! I will consider how I can write a sustainable blog on a regular schedule with the same kind of quality that I delivered last week.
I’ll respond to your comments this week. When I get back on a regular schedule, I’ll have more husband/baby-free time to get back to my online life.
Next Time I Say “I Want to Buy a House,” Please Run Me Over With A Bus
*sigh* I don’t know where I left off… was it in a sketchy parking-lot in Glen Bernie?
Well you just know that my realtor had to call during our vacation, right? Right!?
“The sellers got an estimate on the pipe. It costs $2500 to do the pipe. They want to know if you are willing to absorb the cost.”
My husband and I look at each other, look at the phone, and simultaneously say “no.”
The realtor pauses… “ok…” she says, reluctantly. Then, “I just want to make sure that we’re clear that you are willing to walk away from this house over $2500.”
“Yes.” We say again. We’re on vacation. We’re been jerked around enough. The septic, the entirety of the septic, is supposed to be their responsibility. Stop screwing with us.
“Ok. I’ll let them know.”
That was Wednesday.
Friday morning, after muffins on the beach, I get a text message: “I need a call from you, ASAP.”
…..I’m on. vacation. I’m on vacation.
My realtor also left a voice mail: “They have decided that they’ll put the house back on the market if you don’t absorb this cost. They just want the price to reflect that you absorbed the cost. So the price would come to $252,000 if you decided to accept it. $2500 is pennies on your mortgage every month with a 30 year fix. It’s such a great deal and in such a great location. I’ll do whatever you want, but I’m telling you that this is it.”
So we played hard ball and we lost. We’re still getting what we want, but we eat $2500. She’s right, it is a great deal, a great house (I think?), in a great location. We talked about it and decided that it would be silly to walk away, as long as the language in the P&S is right. We eat this cost, but anything else having to do with the septic is on their dime. We call her back, say we’ll take it.
Relief. We’re purchasing a house. Of course, this is now our third time in this space, but it feels good anyway. The Husband and I go out to lunch to celebrate, start making task lists for the things we need to do when we get back to Boston. We’re feeling like two smart people making smart and prudent decisions.
We drive from North Carolina to Maryland, where we review the revised P&S.
Clearly you know what happened next, right?
Right. The language around the septic is still funky. Currently, the septic must be repaired to pass Title V inspection. It does not specifically say that the pipes that we need done (the ones that we are absorbing the costs for) will get done, and they’ll be done by the seller before move-in. The realtor thinks that this is implied, but she’s not sure. Soooooo we’ve got to wait for our lawyer to go through the document and specifically put that langauge into the contract. We want to make sure that any and all liability for further costs regarding the septic are squarely put on the shoulders of the selling family. Ain’t nobody got time for games!
So I’m sitting here waiting for new language. I have no reason to believe that the house won’t go through at this point, but I still don’t quite know. I’m still in House Purgatory.
I hate House Purgatory.
What is this “vacation” you speak of?
“Oh, Kyra, we can’t wait to see you and those boys! We’re going to do all of the work all week! We can’t wait to help out with them!”
“Oh yeah! When you come down here, we’re going to take care of everything. Diapers, crying, fights, whatever! We’re just so looking forward to spending time with those darling boys!”
“We know you need a vacation, too, Kyra! We can’t wait to help out with the boys!”
This was the language for the two months running up to this “vacation” that I was so looking forward to. 9 other adults in the house were going to fall all over themselves to help out with the babies. I wasn’t going to have to worry about anything! It was going to be a great break.
I can’t believe I fell for that nonsense.
“Hey, Kyra, I think that [Ursa Major] needs a new diaper!”
“Hey, [Husband], [Ursa Minor] is asking for water! Are you going to fill his sippy cup?”
“I think that the boys need a nap, they look sleepy. Are you going to handle that?”
I’m that stupid woman who downloaded 3 books to her Kindle thinking that she was going to get a little reading done on the sand. I read a total of 12 pages of my current book during my week at the beach (that’s significantly less reading than I do at home, where I can get in 2 books in a month if I’m good with my time).
Did I mention that Ursa Minor thought that the first 3 days of our “vacation” would be a great time to start a little teething? Teething toddler + beach vacation = “Please, Jesus, take me now.”
And while we’re at it, if I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again: I need a me vacation. No husband, no babies. I need 24-48 hours by myself with no obligations to have to satisfy anyone’s needs for any given reason. I thought I’d be able to make that a reality in November, but now with the house stuff… Lord… I’ll never make this happen.
There were a great many joyous moments and even a few incredibly funny ones. Like this one:
You see, at the Outer Banks, the lifeguards don’t just sit in a chair. Oh no, they go riding up and down the beach on crazy huge sand buggies. Usually, they are closer to the dunes and not really noticeable, but on Wednesday, the hottie mchot hot blonde lifeguard decided to go for a ride closer to the waves. My sons were enthralled. They actually dropped their toys and went running after the lifeguard! I look up to see my toddlers taking off as fast as their little feet can carry them.
“Why are my sons running after the blonde lifeguard on the dune buggie!?!?!” I scream in dismay.
My mother gets up to chase after them while the rest of our party under the umbrellas practically die laughing. The lifeguard actually noticed my toddlers running after her and gave them a little wave and a smile.
Grrrr… blonde lifeguard…don’t encourage them with your little smile and your little tan and your little teeny bikini and your freaking blonde hair… grrrrrrrrr
I’m not really mad. We laughed for a good long time about that one. We’re pretty sure that they were more interested in the giant crazy ATV than they were in the little lifeguard. It should be noted, however, that Ursa Minor was so angry that his chase was disrupted that he started kicking buckets and sulking in frustration for a good 5 minutes after he was returned to our umbrellas. When little lifeguard made her return trip to go back down the beach, Ursa Major looked up and proclaimed “I like her!”
I have so much I want to write about. Though I didn’t do a lot of reading (or writing… oh no!!), I did get a few moments of wondering and thinking. I can’t wait to share a bit about where my mind went. I think I’ll write about that on Friday.
On Wednesday, we’ll have to talk about Preschool. Because Ursa Major’s home visit is on Wednesday. His teacher is going to come by for 20 minutes to ask us questions, see him at home, and just say hi. God, I hope that he’s in a good mood. We’ll see!
It’s good to be back. Thank you again for reading last week and for your encouraging comments! I really don’t know what I’m going to do with myself now! Your expectations are too high! I’m gonna have to shut this puppy down!