The Edge of the Deep Green Sea

While the first three months of the house selling process was trying my patience, the last three months were a roller coaster and I'm glad to finally be off that ride. 

We had an open house the last Sunday in October, which was fairly well attended. A couple went back later in the week with their agent and we had an offer within a couple of days. They low-balled, we countered, they accepted. Easy negotiation. 

They had their inspection, but then wanted to double check on the cracks in the basement. Please note that in my town, EVERY basement has cracks because the entire town is built on a swamp, but some are worse than others. They called in a structural engineer who didn't seem very concerned about them, but that time waiting for his findings gave me massive anxiety. There were a few other minor concerns they had so we quickly negotiated a small reduction in the sale price to cover it. Yay! 

Not so fast.

Here's where it got fun. I'm not even sure I can remember all the details so it might not sound as anxiety producing as it actually was to live through it at the time, plus a lot of it is kind of boring legal stuff around federal flood funds, but I'll do my best. 

That house is in a flood plain. This means that most mortgage corporations will only approve a mortgage there if the buyers obtain and escrow flood insurance. There's a whole federal flood system in place that subsidizes insurance to make it affordable. John Oliver did a whole segment this fall on Last Week Tonight all about the federal flood system, which firmed up my desire to get that house sold.

We also had received a mailing in September explaining that the subsidies were going to be ending and our insurance rates could go up 5-18% over the next five years. First of all, that's a ridiculously large range. And second, that's when I found out that the absurdly high rate we were paying was subsidized. Seriously, that was the subsidized rate?!?

See, we were totally clueless about what we were doing when we bought that house. We liked the house and sure we would get flood insurance, of course. And 14 1/2 years ago, the flood insurance was quite a bit cheaper. Even with the subsidies, the rates had been steeply increasing every year, exponentially the past couple of years. Again, a big reason for the move and for my refusal to even consider a house in the flood plain. 

This mailing also included information on seeking out an elevation certificate to help reduce rates. I didn't understand what that meant when we first got it in the mail, but I figured we'd just sell the house and not worry about it anyway. 

But the buyers helped me learn quite a bit about it. And also made me incredibly bitter that no one had told me about this 14 years earlier so I could have saved thousands of dollars on flood insurance. 

Here's how it went down. We were all ready to move forward. They knew they needed flood insurance. The wife grew up in the neighborhood and they have friends who also live there, plus it was in our disclosure so no surprise there. But they were taken aback by how much it would cost. That escrow amount makes a big addition to a monthly mortgage payment and it was pricing them out. 

To their credit, these people REALLY wanted the house. We were very much on the low end of pricing in that neighborhood and we'd just reduced the listing price a smidge. Having seen their preapproval letter, I doubt they could have afforded another house in the neighborhood. Plus they had already sold their previous house and were living with their kids and dog at one of their parents' house, which personally sounds like a nightmare to me. 

So back to the elevation certificate. Let me explain what it is. You get a surveyor to come out and using the flood map, they figure out how high the first floor of the house is above the flood rise level. I might not be using the absolute correct lingo there. But basically, how high up was the house built, and is it high enough that flooding wouldn't impact the actual living space of the house? One clue is do you have to climb steps to get into the house. In our new house, no. In that house, yes. 

The buyers had heard about the elevation certificate from friends who had been able to get their flood insurance waived. They asked for a two week extension on the original two week inspection period that was just about to run out. Their plan was to hire a surveyor and get an expedited elevation certificate approved. I was feeling a little annoyed because that would take the house off the market for a full month and if they decided to walk away, we'd be into December, which isn't a great time for selling a house. We agreed, but on the condition that we could keep the house listed, and they agreed on the condition that we couldn't sign any new contracts until after they did the survey. It was heading into Thanksgiving week so I knew it was unlikely anyone would go look at the house anyway, but I felt it was the principal.

So we headed up to the internet dead zone that is my in-laws in New Hampshire for Thanksgiving. We had cell access, but not great cell access. Told the realtor to text me rather than email that week. He let us know Tuesday that the surveyor was going to be there Wednesday and should be able to give them an informal answer at that point. Wednesday came and we heard nothing until very late Wednesday night when I got a text that the surveyor actually couldn't give an answer so hopefully they'd know Friday. Friday came and went and I gave up worrying about it at some point, figuring that a lot of people they needed to talk to might not even be in the office on the day after Thanksgiving. That was probably accurate. 

Late Monday we heard that it wasn't elevated high enough to complete waive the flood insurance, but they were still trying to work something out. I don't know what they eventually decided on, though I'm sure the elevation still was enough to at least reduce it significantly. In the end, the only thing that matters to me is that they figured out whatever they needed to and the sale was moving forward!

Buying and selling houses in NY is about a two month long process. I had hoped to have it all said and done by the end of the year, but it was too late for that dream to come true. Good for taxes this year, I guess, to own two houses?

We were already tired of two lawns to mow, two yards to clean up leaves from (the old house was EXTREMELY leafy), and now two houses needing snow removal. And this year was the snowiest December and January we've had in years. Because of course it was. I kept joking that as soon as the house closed, the weather would clear up. Hahahahaha... Oh wait, that's exactly what happened. 

One other thing to include. We were asked if they could have permission to get into the house to take measurements because they were planning to renovate the kitchen, which got us thinking about all the appliances we had replaced over the years and how very old the appliances are in the new house. Too bad they were included in the contract, but maybe we could buy them back? We inquired. They were open to an offer. I gave my realtor a possible number. He lowered it. They took his number and just asked that we get them out before closing. Yay!

And now time to move them by ourselves, all while my dad channeled his inner Lethal Weapon era Danny Glover to remind us how he's too old for this shit. I won't go into detail because this post is already too heavy on that, but suffice it to say that the process of removing the appliances, moving them, removing the old appliances, and then installing the ones from the old house was rather annoying, especially in the middle of a massive cold spell. I shouldn't complain because I didn't do most of the physical labor, but I wound up coordinating it all for the most part. It was well timed, though. The dishwasher was sitting in my dining room for a couple of days (so the hoses wouldn't freeze in the garage) when the current dishwasher decided to fall apart. We moved a little quicker on getting that one installed. 

But yesterday the sale was closed. We took the kids over the weekend to say good-bye. My stoic Nora, who seemed to have made the transition easier, gave me hints that she was sadder about it than she let on. While my emotional Henry said his good-byes matter of factly. He's more upset that we left Beezley's ashes in that yard, though he agreed that's where he should be since he never lived at our new house. The day before closing, I went by myself to leave all the keys and just have some time to be there alone. I got a little misty.

I'm relieved to not have that extra burden anymore, but we did live a lot of life there. We had loved it at first sight. The new house solves all the problems we'd had with the old house, though we're quickly discovering that it has problems of its own, so of course no house is perfect. It got us through two graduate degrees, two kids, two dogs (and several other canine visitors), and a lot of other stressful/happy/dramatic moments and time periods, but it's definitely time to move forward. 

We're in the midst of a somewhat slow move. Moving is terrible. I have moved several times (not even including back and forth to college) in my adult life and it is always terrible. But the more people you are moving with, the more terrible it is. And children really do accumulate stuff, though I'm also not excusing the amount of stuff John and I own. 

We truly could not figure out how we could possibly sell a house while living in it. We would have had to put a ton of stuff in storage, not allowed the kids to touch anything in the house lest they dirty it, and the dog would just have had to move out. Can't emphasize enough how much my crazy dog messes everything up. He's sweet, but nuts. So we took the risky move of buying first.

I stand by this decision as it did probably make this an ever so slightly less terrible move. Slightly.

The new house is only about 8 miles from the old house, in the same town, but a different school district. The schools are a little more diverse and the taxes are a little lower, both of which were strong considerations. The kids like the house, but are understandably nervous about being in a new school district. They worry about missing their friends, though I have pointed out numerous times that we are in the same town so they can still see them outside of the school day. 

Well, we closed on the new house July 5th. By then we'd already loaded up a Pod with whatever we could. And believe me when I tell you that John filled every last square inch of that thing. He and my dad put all the big stuff in and then John packed the rest of it with small and/or soft stuff. I'm not doing justice to his ability to make things fit. I see this whenever we take a road trip, too. He's got skills. 

Everything else that didn't fit in the Pod has been moved over through multiple trips back and forth. Even now, there are still things we haven't brought over yet. Certain big things, like the kayaks, don't need to get over quickly. The house doesn't need to be empty for us to list it, but it can't be the mess of crap laying around that it has been during this packing extravaganza. It's pretty much the basement and garage that are the messy problems.

And there were a list of things we knew we wanted to fix up before listing. I think we've done more to that house in the past few months than we did in 14 years. But it's been a challenge because we're trying to set up the new house at the same time that we're also trying to quickly get the old one sale ready. There are only so many hours in a day and we still have kids and a dog to take care of.

One thing that was helpful was the timing. We were going to crash my parents' vacation. They got a cottage in Maine with my sister and we were going to camp out in the living room for a few days before having to come home so John could work orientation. We were going to leave the 7th. With the closing being on the 5th, it made sense to scrap that and use that vacation time off for more productivity. 

That was a hell of a week. Half of it was spent painting before moving the big stuff in. One day was spent with my friend's boyfriend helping us unload the Pod. I also had to get a mover for the piano, sign the kids up for school, and have the carpets at the old house cleaned. I did take one day to have a fun day with Henry. Nora went with my parents to Maine, but Henry isn't quite ready for that so he stayed with us and helped paint some, but mostly just watched a lot of movies and did surprisingly well, though there were fits of boredom here and there. 

I wound up sleeping that week at my parents' house with my dog and their dog. It was easier keeping the dogs there out of the way and in a less stressful environment and I actually had a bed to sleep on, but it also meant that I was bouncing among three different house every day. The goal was to be minimally functional by the time they came home from Maine. Mission barely accomplished. 

 A little over a week later and it's gotten a wee bit better. Every night, John has been going to the old house while I try to get some unpacking done in between taking care of the kids and dog. 

The new goal is to get the old house ready to list by the end of this weekend, especially since John is leaving with the kids for NH on Monday to see his family. The weather needs to start cooperating so we can get the deck painted, though. 

And I'm reading up on burying a St. Joseph statue in the yard to help sell the house. Don't judge my selective Catholicism. Our former dog dug one up from the yard years ago and I feel he goes with the house. John located him yesterday and he's going back in this weekend, and there are novenas that need to be said apparently. 

Once we're not dealing with mortgages and utilities from two houses, we've got short and long term plans for the new house. We're already thinking about this one differently. We never viewed the old one as a house we were going to stay in forever so we just maintained and never did much more than paint as an upgrade. We have more plans for this new one, particularly someday redoing the hideous pink master bath. Though really, I'm just happy to have a master bath. 

I have so much more I could say about all of it, including the weird DIY stuff we keep finding that the previous owners did, but I'm at work and have, you know, work to do. Plus it's all mentally exhausting even when it's not physically exhausting. 

The moral is that moving is terrible, and the next time I do so better involve some serious downsizing or me moving to my grave (or the crematorium, technically, but grave sounds more poetic). 

Due to some transfer credits from the semester I spent at UVM, I had some room in my first semester of my MSW program at UB to take an elective. I took a class called Gender Issues, and the instructor really did a lot to challenge what my ideas of feminism were at that time. If you had asked me prior to that class if I was a feminist, I would have easily agreed that I was. I just had a more narrow view of what that was. 

See, the feminist perspective in social work is not just about equal rights for women. It's about equal rights for everyone. So yes that obviously includes gender, including the rights of men to not have to fit in with a toxic masculinity narrative, but it also includes race, ethnicity, religion, sexuality, ability, mental health status, socioeconomic status, and any group that is marginalized. Any group that is not being supported and allowed to reach its fullest potential. And understanding that people fit in more than one category. Intersectionality, but no one was using that word at that time. 

And it's not just about giving everyone something equally, it's about reaching a level of equality, and understanding that people need different things to get to that point of equality. You might need more support than I need, but I might need more than that other person. It's also about changing the systems, because maybe we shouldn't be trying to fit ourselves into an outdated system that doesn't work for all of us. 

I was elated to see all the pictures and videos of the Women's Marches happening all over the country, and the world. Yes, it was a march for women's rights, but I was also pleased to see signs addressing other issues. Because the true feminist perspective is concerned with all of it. 

I suppose I'm not really using this journal anymore, eh?  I still check my friend list daily, which mostly consists of rockinlibrarian and a handful of enjoyable communities.  My last few entries don't have any comments at all so I'm guessing not too many folks are reading this anymore in lieu of Facebook.  And that's fair since most of everything I'd post here, I generally post there.  The one thing I could see myself keeping up here are the locked entries where I need to vent in a less than public venue.  If you're an anonymous reader who wants in on those, get a login and a friend request.  

So I guess we'll see.  I do like blogging because I could generally talk about myself without any problem.  ;)  But I don't want to keep getting mad at myself for not doing so very often and I don't really want to switch to a different blog host, especially since it won't resolve the issue of me not getting around to posting and I like having all my stuff here where it is already.  My point?  Yeah, I have no idea what my point is.

I really need to write some updates on here someday...

The adoption is officially finalized.  We survived an extra long car ride to Cincinnati.  Oh, the joys of travelling with two small children.  We got to the courthouse a little early and Nora was wired.  When we finally got into the courtroom with our lawyer and the magistrate, Nora was just off the wall.  She didn't want to sit with us and she didn't want to sit at all, really.  She kept switching seats and running up to the witness stand and the judge's bench.  At one point, the magistrate mentioned that she had read in the home study that Nora was shy and cautious in new situations, but that she wasn't seeing that.  It was both funny and horrifying.  Henry, on the other hand, fell asleep.  

This is the closest we'll get to an actual vacation this year so we stuck around.  Had my birthday at the Newport Aquarium just over the river in Kentucky and went up to my friend Jackie's place, where we had stayed at placement, for dinner and amazing homemade cupcakes.  Then another lengthy trek home.  

Ah, second child syndrome.  We didn't fall into that pattern where we don't take as many pictures of Henry.  John especially has been taking as many pictures, but then he never really tapered off with Nora anyway.  Plus I always like to keep in mind that I'm taking pictures for Henry's birth mom, too.  However, I've been really rotten about keeping track of his milestones.  And not just on here.  I've dropped down on livejournal overall since I post most things on Facebook anymore, but even my own records aren't up to date.  

Part of it is just being busy.  Two kids means being waaaaaaaaaaaaay busier.  And I'm working full-time, which I wasn't doing when Nora was this age.  The moral of the story is that I have no time for pretty much anything.  I'm lucky I can keep up with the bare minimum of house keeping.  Well, almost the bare minimum.  The house is rather gross right now since we've entered clumpy dog shedding season, but that's another story.

So here's where we're at.  Healthwise, we're generally all better.  Nora might be battling some seasonal allergies so I have children's Claritin on our next grocery list and god bless those damn Boogie Wipes.  Henry is now the proud owner of a nubulizer as it appears he has a mild case of asthma.  He also may have an inguinal hernia so we'll get that checked out after we finalize in a couple of weeks.  He'll need surgery for that if that's the case, so better to get it over with before he gets too mobile.  I'm still dreading it, though.  

Henry is rolling every way imaginable.  He's sitting up fairly well, though he still flops over from time to time, usually at the exact moment I turn away.  He's an eating machine and I should probably bump him up to two meals of solids a day, but I might hold off a couple more weeks.  I'm trying not to do too much new stuff in our routine until after we take that trip back to Ohio.  I'm working on the jarred stuff for now while we make sure he has no allergies, but then I'm kind of a fan of baby led weaning.  That I'm looking forward to, but I'll probably have to keep some level of mush going at daycare for a couple more months just because of their own comfort level.  

And back to having no time, it has now taken me over an hour to get this done, so I should just call it quits for this round.

Those of you on Facebook with us probably already know that Henry has had RSV.  Don't ask me what that stands for.  I looked it up and it was something scientific that I don't remember.  But basically it's a respiratory virus.  It's very common and anyone can get it, but it's a little scarier in babies because inflamed tiny airways don't leave a lot of room for actual air.  

They put up a notice about one of the other babies having it on Wednesday.  Henry's still on his ongoing series of colds, but I was being a little more aware of his breathing.  Sure enough, they called me at work Thursday to say he was wheezing.  Got him to the doctor and he did indeed have RSV.  It was at its worst Friday night and then turned around from there.  He's back at daycare today, though he's still got his perpetual nasal congestion.  But his lungs are good.  He never did get a fever and barely has a cough.

One of the joys of Facebook is that when you post something about your baby having something like RSV, there are plenty of people ready to tell you about the worst case scenarios they know about.  I got all sorts of stories about hospitalizations and months long illnesses.  No one said, "Oh yeah, my kid had that and it was a sucky week, but then was fine."  No, no.  We must only freak people out.  I appreciate the message I got from the friend who is an immunologist reassuring me that those horror stories were probably involving kids with compromised immune systems.  It's what I was thinking, but I like having scientific back up beyond just what the internet has to say.

Nora has the sniffles and whatnot, as do I, but nothing major otherwise.

Oh, and in other news, John defended his dissertation proposal yesterday and now it's on to the actual research.  He has a deadline now, which is something he really needs, so hopefully this time next year we'll at least be getting ready for the actual dissertation defense.  In the 11 years we've known each other, there has only been one year that neither of us was in school.  Of course, Nora will then start kindergarten and we'll have to start working on her homework.  Ha!

I went to the defense yesterday and since we were still keeping Henry out and my mom was at work, we got Nora's teacher from last year who isn't working there anymore to come babysit for us.  We paid her $10/hr, which is sadly pretty reasonable from what I've heard.  If we do eventually move away from here like I'd like to someday, we may never go anywhere since we won't have free babysitting anymore.  When I was 16, I made $3 an hour for the three kids next door, one of whom it turns out had undiagnosed Asberger's, and I was expected to do some cleaning, too.  Don't get me wrong, I adored those kids (who are now all grown up, married, and two of them have kids), but either babysitting inflation went way up or I was vastly underpaid.  Seriously, for anyone who complains about how much daycare centers cost, if I got a full-time babysitter, it would cost me twice as much and at least I don't have to worry about what happens if that one person I'm depending on gets sick.  Sheesh.

Henry is four months old and he is large.  Evenings are still prone to crankiness, especially if he doesn't nap well at daycare, which is most days.  He's rolling front to back now.  When he feels like it, that is.  Still haven't gotten it on video, but at least we've all finally seen it in action.  I should post a video on Facebook sometime with him laughing.  It's hilarious.  And he makes these happy noises that sound like a sheep.  Seriously.  You can't help but laugh when you hear it.  The daycare teachers love it.  We figure we'll experiment with food with him on the weekend until he seems to get it before having them do it at daycare.  I gave him some cereal and he was so-so about it.  I then tasted it and I understand why.  I'll go with a heavy mix of applesauce to take of the blandness.  Seriously, why do they think babies need to eat bland food?  I don't get it.

Now Nora.  She'll be four next month.  She's having her birthday party at the zoo because I'm over having it at my house.  She's quit sucking her thumb.  She finally got sick of her thumb always being calloused and cut from it and just up and quit cold turkey.  I'm kind of impressed, although I guess I did the same thing when I was five after the finger I sucked on turned greenish in one spot from the callous it had.  She's very potty trained at this point, though we do have an occasional accident.  Today, for example, was a doozy.  Not only did she not quite make it to the toilet, she attempted to clean up the bathroom floor by herself, didn't tell us about it, and then was walking around in wet pants and socks.  I noticed the trail her wet socks were leaving on the floor and followed the pee scent back to her.  Then had to figure out where else she had been in the previous five minutes.  Oh joy.

I try not to compare the two.  Henry seems to be easier in some aspects, but Nora was not an easy baby and he really is.  The one thing she had over him was a massive night sleeping stretch.  That's not to say that he's not a great sleeper at night.  He is.  He goes down easy and stays down.  But whereas Nora's baby nights were a 12 hour stretch, his is only 10 hours.  Believe me, that's still awesome and I know I shouldn't complain, but that two hours makes a big difference in our life.  

But it's all good.  Tough at times, but good.

I had a whopping three days back to work and I'm already overwhelmed.  Work is actually the least stressful part of my day now, which is sad.  But the bundling up, dropping off at daycare, fighting traffic, fighting for a parking spot all in a timely manner mornings kind of suck.  Then there's fighting traffic home, picking up from daycare, more bundling up, attempting to get dinner while dealing with an overtired baby evenings that are also challenging.  

I'm just trying to get through the next few months, honestly.  Winter doesn't usually bother me, but I'm already done with this one.  It's been pretty crappy weather to begin with, even for winter.  Henry isn't feeling the bundling up process and I'm not really either.  What I'm truly looking forward to it when Henry turns 1 and I can turn that damn car seat around.  This rear facing business is a pain to begin with, but in the Element, it's really awful.  

Oh, and after only three days of daycare, Henry already got his first cold.  Woot!