Nearly four months have passed since the foreclosure, and life has gone on. The bank finally sold the house, closing last month for $232,300 according to county records. That is almost $20,000 less than the last offer we had ready to close, about $40,000 less than the original sale price when the house was build in 2003, and $150,500 than our purchase price in 2006. Talk about falling prices...
Mr. Four Walls has so far weathered this late fall and early winter with relatively no down time at work, save for a few hours off here and there for the holidays. That is huge for us, since the last four years around this time, we've been faced with a temporary lay-off. Some that didn’t feel so temporary.
I have started working part-time teaching gymnastics to preschoolers and lower levels, mainly to pay for our eldest’s competitive-team coaching expenses. Jellybeans's heart is gymnastics, and she has really missed it these past couple of years as we cut way back to get our financial life back on track. We let each of the older kids choose one activity to join this fall, though, and of course she went straight back to it. Literally. We expected her to need to work back into it, to regain some skills lost, but nope. Her first day they bumped her to pre-team and within a month they had invited her to the competition team. The gym has had some help-wanted signs up for a while, so I threw my name in the hat, and "Voila!" I'm a gymnastics coach. It’s a work out, I’ll tell ya’! Nothing makes you feel middle aged faster than doing repeated forward rolls, hand-stands, and cart-wheels.
The kids are growing like weeds. This school year has been a bit better for them, as they are no longer the new kids, but I also can't say it's been ideal. Jellybean in particular has still struggled to make good friends, making her involvement in positive, outside activities like gymnastics and Girl Scouts so important. Miss Florida is become really close with one neighbor girl, and seems to be thriving. Peanut is almost unrecognizable, becoming such a little kid instead of a baby. Potty-trained, sleeping on the lower bunk of the bunk beds, the works. Sniff, sniff. Not sure I'm ready for it....
I am so thankful to be home again. Granted, they've driven me batty these past few weeks on Christmas break. But that's what they do, right? It's Christmas, after all. It's back to school tomorrow, so hopefully we'll all be back in the swing of things in a few more days. With only one real income, we're not ever really sure where the money will come from for the next month, but so far we've made it work, only by the grace of God I'm sure.
Life has come full circle. It's not all wine and roses, to be sure, but we are blessed, healthy, and happy - just like we were this time last year, but with a bit more perspective and experience to recognize it.
Happy New Year!
Showing posts with label The Path to Now. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Path to Now. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Thursday, September 8, 2011
The End is Near, Part 4
And ANOTHER update:
No signing today, or ever. Just received a call from escrow that our bank is refusing to sign one measly piece of paper in a timely manner, and without it, we can't close. Again, they also refused to delay the foreclosure tomorrow, so it looks like it's done. The "F" word officially wins the race.
The end is no longer near, it is here.
No signing today, or ever. Just received a call from escrow that our bank is refusing to sign one measly piece of paper in a timely manner, and without it, we can't close. Again, they also refused to delay the foreclosure tomorrow, so it looks like it's done. The "F" word officially wins the race.
The end is no longer near, it is here.
The End is Near, Part 3
Another update: we will be signing at escrow at 2 p.m. today, so if all goes smoothly this will end in the short-sale and not a foreclosure.
The End is Near, Part 2
I intended to have this as a running, day(or-every-other-day-)-by-day run down of the last few weeks in our race to the finish line on the short-sale, but life intervened. In a good way, but so much that taking time to blog about something that has already eaten up so much of my time and energy just wasn't at the top of my to-do list. So, without further do (and minus the day-by-day) here's a run-down of where we're at.
The short-sale still has not closed. Once everything on our end was handled, we expected to be able to close early last week. However, there were some roadblocks on the buyers end and now we're coming down to the wire. The foreclosure auction is tomorrow morning, September 9th. Yesterday the bank rejected our request for a one-day extension.
Today is the THE day. At this point, if we can close in the next 3-4 hours, the sale can get recorded at the county and be taken off the auction list for tomorrow. At last update, they buyers should be called to schedule their signing "soon." Escrow has not contacted us, however, and time is ticking. It takes us about an hour to drive to the escrow office. I've made arrangements for a friends to get the older girls after school if I I am still battling my way home, but if it is the case that I'm signing that late, there will only be a slim chance that the sale will actually record today.
So, we're back to Purgatory (link to a previous post), but just like then I'm doing my best to remember that my life is good - wonderful in fact. Mr. Four Walls is working steadily, the kids are thriving, I'm home everyday doing what I love most, and we're all safe, healthy, and loved. This foreclosure, if it does indeed end up there, cannot and will not take all that away.
My motto this week has been "God is in control." Everytime I feel like I'm going to lose it, or I get sad, or angry, or frustrated at all that has gone on, I say it to myself. I post it on Facebook. I yell it out.
Because at this point, it's all I can do. Really, it's all we can ever do, regardless of the situation.
So, God is in control, and we will know the ending to this not-so-fairy-tale very shortly.
The short-sale still has not closed. Once everything on our end was handled, we expected to be able to close early last week. However, there were some roadblocks on the buyers end and now we're coming down to the wire. The foreclosure auction is tomorrow morning, September 9th. Yesterday the bank rejected our request for a one-day extension.
Today is the THE day. At this point, if we can close in the next 3-4 hours, the sale can get recorded at the county and be taken off the auction list for tomorrow. At last update, they buyers should be called to schedule their signing "soon." Escrow has not contacted us, however, and time is ticking. It takes us about an hour to drive to the escrow office. I've made arrangements for a friends to get the older girls after school if I I am still battling my way home, but if it is the case that I'm signing that late, there will only be a slim chance that the sale will actually record today.
So, we're back to Purgatory (link to a previous post), but just like then I'm doing my best to remember that my life is good - wonderful in fact. Mr. Four Walls is working steadily, the kids are thriving, I'm home everyday doing what I love most, and we're all safe, healthy, and loved. This foreclosure, if it does indeed end up there, cannot and will not take all that away.
My motto this week has been "God is in control." Everytime I feel like I'm going to lose it, or I get sad, or angry, or frustrated at all that has gone on, I say it to myself. I post it on Facebook. I yell it out.
Because at this point, it's all I can do. Really, it's all we can ever do, regardless of the situation.
So, God is in control, and we will know the ending to this not-so-fairy-tale very shortly.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
The End is Near, Part 1
The past 10 days have been a roller-coaster with the house. Over the next several posts, that I'm naming The End is Near, I'll give a run-down of the events leading up today, and continue beyond until the end-date of September 9th.
Friday, August 5th:
I received an e-mail from the loss mitigator that an attorney in the firm thinks we should request mediation through the state's new mediation program
The mediation program went into effect the week previously. In a nutshell it means that homeowners in our state facing foreclosure have the right to mediation through the Department of Commerce to ensure that all parties are acting in good faith and treated fairly. This will hopefully reduce the number of homes that are seized in foreclosure by giving distressed homeowners a fair opportunity to negotiate alternatives such as loan modifications, short-sales, etc.
It's not free, but fairly inexpensive at $200 for each the homeowner and the bank, plus any attorney's costs if a homeowner chooses to be represented. Homeowners cannot request mediation directly; they must be referred to the program by an attorney or housing counselor based on specific criteria, but once referred, the foreclosure process has to stop until the mediation process is completed.
The bank is required to have a decision-maker at the mediation meeting in person or on the phone, so the biggest positive is that it will greatly reduce the run-around for homeowners that enter the process. If no agreement is reached, once the mediator has entered their report, the foreclosure can again be scheduled for 90 days.
If either party is found not to be negotiating in good faith, then the mediator will compile a report on that fact, but they cannot stop the foreclosure. It would be grounds for the other party to sue, however, and in some instances the bad-faith efforts could be reported to the state Attorney General to aid them in cracking down on fraudulent/illegal foreclosure-practices.
We contemplated long and hard (well, as long as we could, given the time-crunch) on if we should request mediation. The positive of forcing the bank to have a decision-maker readily available on the spot was very appealing, since they seem to take the cake on giving people the run-around. However, there were no guarantees that we would come to an agreement, and I strongly doubted that they would negotiate in good faith given the events of the last year.
We also felt that we would need to hire an attorney to represent us, taking it from a $200 deal to a couple grand, or more if the outcome warranted further legal action. At best we'd come away with an agreement allowing us to sell the house, but the buyers had been getting really anxious and were not giving us the impression they'd stick around through the process. More than likely, we'd commit the time, money, and energy just to be right back on the foreclosure track, only dragging it out by another four months or more.
Thursday, August 11th:
We declined the referral to the mediation program.
That same morning, we found out it was all moot, since we didn't qualify for the process anyway. Only homeowners living in the property in question are eligible, and since we moved out in January of this year we would have been rejected by the program.
About 10 minutes later, we received an e-mail from the loss mitigator that for the first time ever, the bank had called her! She has spent so many hours each week over the past year calling them, sitting in Muzak Hell, and getting the run-around on our behalf. Never had they called her. She knew right away something was up since they initiated contact by more than a general e-mail asking her to call customer service.
So, what brought the bank out of their shelter to initiate contact?
The wanted to let her, and us, know that they had approved the short sale! They needed to confirm her e-mail address so that they could send over the approval letter. We waited with baited breath, since an approval didn't mean no-strings-attached.
Mid-day, the loss mitigator called me to let me know she'd sent me the letter for review. As we read it over together on the phone, she indicated that it was unlike any approval letter she'd ever seen and she needed an attorney to go over it before talking with me anymore. It was clear that they were not requiring us to sign a promissory note for the deficiency, as we were told to expect based on the bank's previous approvals her firm had received for other clients. What was not clear was if they were forgiving the balance.
Late that afternoon, she contacted me again and let me know that in the end, she had every single attorney in the firm look at the letter, and they were split 50-50 on whether or not the approval released us from liability on the deficiency balance.
She attempted to discuss the ambiguous wording with the bank, but of course there was no one she could speak with that could help with giving more information or re-writing the letter. She also attempted to call Fannie Mae directly, but it was after hours there and would have to wait until the morning. She requested that I also try to contact them (Fannie) and see what information I could gather.
Friday, August 12th:
I spoke with a Fannie Mae representative directly early in the morning. He wouldn't speak to the specifics of our approval letter, only saying that it is always Fannie Mae's intention to leave the door open to seeking the deficiency within the laws of the state in which the property sits. He wouldn't or couldn't say what their plans are in our case.
I communicated this information to the loss mitigator and our realtor, and let them know we did not feel comfortable signing the letter as written. The state laws here mean that if the bank takes the house in a non-judicial foreclosure - which is the process they are using - they cannot seek a deficiency judgement except in cases of fraud. We've been nothing but open and honest, so we had nothing to worry about there.
Even so, we were deflated. We'd fought so long and hard to avoid a foreclosure, but here we were, having to decide between foreclosure or taking a deal the "might" open the doors to them suing us for the deficiency, an amount that they are saying is currently topping $160,000. That total is so inflated by their delays and stalling tactics it isn't funny, but even a more reasonable estimate of $140,000 (did I just call that reasonable????) would mean bankruptcy for us, dragging the turmoil of the past few years out well beyond another decade.
I let everyone know that was not an option for us.
Then....the loss mitigator, our realtor, and some of the attorneys at the loss mitigation firm came to us with some facts about the likelihood of Fannie Mae seeking the deficiency. First, in all the years this firm has practiced in our state- doing much more than loss mitigation, and very reputably - they have never seen Fannie Mae seek a deficiency judgement in our state. The laws here would make it an uphill battle for them, and they have chosen not to fight it, historically.
Additionally, the exact wording in the approval letter has legal precedence to indicate forgiveness of a debt. The term they used was "Discharge" - they even put it in bold type-face in the letter - and it is most commonly used in bankruptcy proceedings to indicate a debt has been resolved and nothing further is owing. Again, with the wording as it was, we were advised that it would be an uphill battle for them to get a judgement. If they chose to seek the judgement, state law gives them six years from the date of the short-sale to do so.
This left us with a really difficult decision: wave the white flag of surrender and take the foreclosure hit, or plow ahead with the short-sale, taking the risk that we might have to fight in the future against a judgement.
We asked for the weekend to decide.
Friday, August 5th:
I received an e-mail from the loss mitigator that an attorney in the firm thinks we should request mediation through the state's new mediation program
The mediation program went into effect the week previously. In a nutshell it means that homeowners in our state facing foreclosure have the right to mediation through the Department of Commerce to ensure that all parties are acting in good faith and treated fairly. This will hopefully reduce the number of homes that are seized in foreclosure by giving distressed homeowners a fair opportunity to negotiate alternatives such as loan modifications, short-sales, etc.
It's not free, but fairly inexpensive at $200 for each the homeowner and the bank, plus any attorney's costs if a homeowner chooses to be represented. Homeowners cannot request mediation directly; they must be referred to the program by an attorney or housing counselor based on specific criteria, but once referred, the foreclosure process has to stop until the mediation process is completed.
The bank is required to have a decision-maker at the mediation meeting in person or on the phone, so the biggest positive is that it will greatly reduce the run-around for homeowners that enter the process. If no agreement is reached, once the mediator has entered their report, the foreclosure can again be scheduled for 90 days.
If either party is found not to be negotiating in good faith, then the mediator will compile a report on that fact, but they cannot stop the foreclosure. It would be grounds for the other party to sue, however, and in some instances the bad-faith efforts could be reported to the state Attorney General to aid them in cracking down on fraudulent/illegal foreclosure-practices.
We contemplated long and hard (well, as long as we could, given the time-crunch) on if we should request mediation. The positive of forcing the bank to have a decision-maker readily available on the spot was very appealing, since they seem to take the cake on giving people the run-around. However, there were no guarantees that we would come to an agreement, and I strongly doubted that they would negotiate in good faith given the events of the last year.
We also felt that we would need to hire an attorney to represent us, taking it from a $200 deal to a couple grand, or more if the outcome warranted further legal action. At best we'd come away with an agreement allowing us to sell the house, but the buyers had been getting really anxious and were not giving us the impression they'd stick around through the process. More than likely, we'd commit the time, money, and energy just to be right back on the foreclosure track, only dragging it out by another four months or more.
Thursday, August 11th:
We declined the referral to the mediation program.
That same morning, we found out it was all moot, since we didn't qualify for the process anyway. Only homeowners living in the property in question are eligible, and since we moved out in January of this year we would have been rejected by the program.
About 10 minutes later, we received an e-mail from the loss mitigator that for the first time ever, the bank had called her! She has spent so many hours each week over the past year calling them, sitting in Muzak Hell, and getting the run-around on our behalf. Never had they called her. She knew right away something was up since they initiated contact by more than a general e-mail asking her to call customer service.
So, what brought the bank out of their shelter to initiate contact?
The wanted to let her, and us, know that they had approved the short sale! They needed to confirm her e-mail address so that they could send over the approval letter. We waited with baited breath, since an approval didn't mean no-strings-attached.
Mid-day, the loss mitigator called me to let me know she'd sent me the letter for review. As we read it over together on the phone, she indicated that it was unlike any approval letter she'd ever seen and she needed an attorney to go over it before talking with me anymore. It was clear that they were not requiring us to sign a promissory note for the deficiency, as we were told to expect based on the bank's previous approvals her firm had received for other clients. What was not clear was if they were forgiving the balance.
Late that afternoon, she contacted me again and let me know that in the end, she had every single attorney in the firm look at the letter, and they were split 50-50 on whether or not the approval released us from liability on the deficiency balance.
She attempted to discuss the ambiguous wording with the bank, but of course there was no one she could speak with that could help with giving more information or re-writing the letter. She also attempted to call Fannie Mae directly, but it was after hours there and would have to wait until the morning. She requested that I also try to contact them (Fannie) and see what information I could gather.
Friday, August 12th:
I spoke with a Fannie Mae representative directly early in the morning. He wouldn't speak to the specifics of our approval letter, only saying that it is always Fannie Mae's intention to leave the door open to seeking the deficiency within the laws of the state in which the property sits. He wouldn't or couldn't say what their plans are in our case.
I communicated this information to the loss mitigator and our realtor, and let them know we did not feel comfortable signing the letter as written. The state laws here mean that if the bank takes the house in a non-judicial foreclosure - which is the process they are using - they cannot seek a deficiency judgement except in cases of fraud. We've been nothing but open and honest, so we had nothing to worry about there.
Even so, we were deflated. We'd fought so long and hard to avoid a foreclosure, but here we were, having to decide between foreclosure or taking a deal the "might" open the doors to them suing us for the deficiency, an amount that they are saying is currently topping $160,000. That total is so inflated by their delays and stalling tactics it isn't funny, but even a more reasonable estimate of $140,000 (did I just call that reasonable????) would mean bankruptcy for us, dragging the turmoil of the past few years out well beyond another decade.
I let everyone know that was not an option for us.
Then....the loss mitigator, our realtor, and some of the attorneys at the loss mitigation firm came to us with some facts about the likelihood of Fannie Mae seeking the deficiency. First, in all the years this firm has practiced in our state- doing much more than loss mitigation, and very reputably - they have never seen Fannie Mae seek a deficiency judgement in our state. The laws here would make it an uphill battle for them, and they have chosen not to fight it, historically.
Additionally, the exact wording in the approval letter has legal precedence to indicate forgiveness of a debt. The term they used was "Discharge" - they even put it in bold type-face in the letter - and it is most commonly used in bankruptcy proceedings to indicate a debt has been resolved and nothing further is owing. Again, with the wording as it was, we were advised that it would be an uphill battle for them to get a judgement. If they chose to seek the judgement, state law gives them six years from the date of the short-sale to do so.
This left us with a really difficult decision: wave the white flag of surrender and take the foreclosure hit, or plow ahead with the short-sale, taking the risk that we might have to fight in the future against a judgement.
We asked for the weekend to decide.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Lies, Lies, Lies
(Can you hear the Thompson Twins singing in the background? Cue it up on your MP3 player of choice - c'mon, admit it. It's on there.)
This morning Iwasted spent a little over an hour in a conference call with the bank and the loss mitigator, during which two very disturbing lies told by the bank in the past year were uncovered.
Lie: Fannie Mae approved the short-sale back in May.
Truth: Fannie Mae has not approved the short sale, and is unlikely to due to the large amount by which we're underwater on the loan.
Lie: The file was sent to Fannie Mae for review back in March.
Truth: To date, the file has never been sent to Fannie Mae for review.
So where does this leave us? With several sobering truths:
Truth: The buyer's extension on their offer expires today.
Truth: When asked earlier this week, prior to the information above coming to light, they said they'd sign a two-week extension to wait a bit longer for the supposedly forthcoming approval letter.
Truth: The bank is now demanding a minimum of a 30-day extension from them to show that they're a serious buyer (as if the past seven months of putting up with this s*!@ hasn't proven that...).
Truth: Even if the buyers agree to the 30 days, Fannie Mae will still have to review and decide if they'll take the offer or move ahead on the foreclosure.
Truth: The bank will not submit the file to Fannie Mae without the 30 day extension from the buyers.
Truth: Once (if) received, it will take Fannie Mae several weeks to review and notify the bank of their decision. We would then have wait any more additional time for the bank to notify us, in writing of the denial or acceptance, and any terms of the acceptance.
Truth: The current BPO (Broker's Price Opinion, which helps the bank and Fannie Mae determine fair market value) expires August 8th. If the approval is not received and the deal isn't closed by then, a new BPO would have to be ordered, taking another two weeks or so to work through the inept system.
Truth: The bank says they will not request a new BPO unless the buyers sign a 30-day extension AND they believe that Fannie Mae is close to issuing an approval AND they believe we will successfully close but after the August 8th expiration.
Truth: Today is July 21st.
Truth: The foreclosure date is set for September 9th.
Truth: It generally takes 30-45 days to close a sale on all the approvals, etc are settled; faster closings are possible but hard to pull off in this market of scrutiny (ironic, huh?).
Truth: The buyers are unlikely to sign a 30-day extension because they can count the dwindling days still available to make this happen, and they can read the writing on the wall.
Truth: This deal, and our attempt at avoiding a foreclosure, is all but dead and we're SOL.
Truth: I am angry, frustrated, and harboring some other serious negative emotions towards the bank right now.
Truth: GOD HAS COMPLETE CONTROL, and this - as I say in the About Me section to the right - is just a blip in the radar screen of my life. It's not life or death. My family is healthy and together with a roof over our heads, and food in our bellies. I'm blessed to be listening as I type to one child making a sandwich down the hall, another tapping her feet on the bed as she devours another book, and the third - the game changer that took us over the ledge onto this course once and for all - babbling away over the baby-monitor, fighting her afternoon nap.
The sky is not falling, the world is still turning, and in the grand scheme of things this whole ordeal has been a blessing. It's not officially over, of course, but for me it pretty much is. We're on a collision course with foreclosure, but it doesn't really matter. We'll walk away from the impact with some battle scars and a longer period of financial rehabilitation than we hoped, but we'll be okay.
(Especially after you tubing Lies here. I challenge you not to smile and dance a bit while watching the video. If only the bank's lies were so entertaining to experience.)
This morning I
Lie: Fannie Mae approved the short-sale back in May.
Truth: Fannie Mae has not approved the short sale, and is unlikely to due to the large amount by which we're underwater on the loan.
Lie: The file was sent to Fannie Mae for review back in March.
Truth: To date, the file has never been sent to Fannie Mae for review.
So where does this leave us? With several sobering truths:
Truth: The buyer's extension on their offer expires today.
Truth: When asked earlier this week, prior to the information above coming to light, they said they'd sign a two-week extension to wait a bit longer for the supposedly forthcoming approval letter.
Truth: The bank is now demanding a minimum of a 30-day extension from them to show that they're a serious buyer (as if the past seven months of putting up with this s*!@ hasn't proven that...).
Truth: Even if the buyers agree to the 30 days, Fannie Mae will still have to review and decide if they'll take the offer or move ahead on the foreclosure.
Truth: The bank will not submit the file to Fannie Mae without the 30 day extension from the buyers.
Truth: Once (if) received, it will take Fannie Mae several weeks to review and notify the bank of their decision. We would then have wait any more additional time for the bank to notify us, in writing of the denial or acceptance, and any terms of the acceptance.
Truth: The current BPO (Broker's Price Opinion, which helps the bank and Fannie Mae determine fair market value) expires August 8th. If the approval is not received and the deal isn't closed by then, a new BPO would have to be ordered, taking another two weeks or so to work through the inept system.
Truth: The bank says they will not request a new BPO unless the buyers sign a 30-day extension AND they believe that Fannie Mae is close to issuing an approval AND they believe we will successfully close but after the August 8th expiration.
Truth: Today is July 21st.
Truth: The foreclosure date is set for September 9th.
Truth: It generally takes 30-45 days to close a sale on all the approvals, etc are settled; faster closings are possible but hard to pull off in this market of scrutiny (ironic, huh?).
Truth: The buyers are unlikely to sign a 30-day extension because they can count the dwindling days still available to make this happen, and they can read the writing on the wall.
Truth: This deal, and our attempt at avoiding a foreclosure, is all but dead and we're SOL.
Truth: I am angry, frustrated, and harboring some other serious negative emotions towards the bank right now.
Truth: GOD HAS COMPLETE CONTROL, and this - as I say in the About Me section to the right - is just a blip in the radar screen of my life. It's not life or death. My family is healthy and together with a roof over our heads, and food in our bellies. I'm blessed to be listening as I type to one child making a sandwich down the hall, another tapping her feet on the bed as she devours another book, and the third - the game changer that took us over the ledge onto this course once and for all - babbling away over the baby-monitor, fighting her afternoon nap.
The sky is not falling, the world is still turning, and in the grand scheme of things this whole ordeal has been a blessing. It's not officially over, of course, but for me it pretty much is. We're on a collision course with foreclosure, but it doesn't really matter. We'll walk away from the impact with some battle scars and a longer period of financial rehabilitation than we hoped, but we'll be okay.
(Especially after you tubing Lies here. I challenge you not to smile and dance a bit while watching the video. If only the bank's lies were so entertaining to experience.)
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
As usual, my blogging frequency - well, sucks. The past two months have been a whirlwind, and I can hardly remember most days. Nothing spectacular, just the life of a working mom of three kiddos.
Except that I'm no longer a working mom! I took the leap and QUIT my job, giving notice in early May. My last day was last week, just in time for the kiddos to get done with school for the year (and to start arguing non-stop, but that's another post, probably for another blog). What changed to allow us to make this drastic decision?
Nothing. Nothing has changed, and that in itself was the catalyst for me staying home (for now, but more on that later). The sitter was still only committed through the end of the year, childcare was still getting more expensive by the minute (I'd be paying $2200/month right now if I were still working, and that's not even for the best places), and the most pressing of all - I truly feel called to be home with my kids. We spent the last year cutting back and digging out of debt to prepare for this choice, not knowing if we would actually make it happen, but here we are.
It's not going to be easy. The numbers don't work, but they weren't going to work paying $2200 per month, either, so we chose the lesser of two evils (broke and (relatively) quiet vs. broke and crazed). I'm investigating the process to become a licensed home-daycare provider so that I can bring in an income and still be home, but the more in depth on that I dig, the less appealing it is. However, seeing as I need an income, it's likely the best choice for us. I've also been casting a wide net for part-time evening/weekend jobs, but so far nothing has come of that.
For now, we're hunkering down. We have funds to sustain us a few months, and if push comes to shove we can live off Mr. Four Wall's income without touching the savings, but it won't be pretty. It's a giant leap of faith, and we're now in mid-air.
"But what about the house?" you're probably wondering.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero movement. Well, that's not true. We have received the Notice of Trustee's Sale, and the auction date is set for September 9th. That doesn't mean they've denied the short-sale; it just means that the foreclosure people have finally woken up and are starting that process, and it's now a race between the two departments to complete their job first. My money's on the foreclosure department, if the past year is any indication.
For the last 2 months (at least) we've been told we'll have an answer on the short-sale "this week" but we never get anything other than "it's still in review." Now they're asking yet again for all of our financial documents to be updated, which shows me they're dragging their feet and extending this as long as they can.
Not that I care anymore. We've done all that we can to work this out. Extra work, in-laws living with us, being beggars to our friends for childcare, and finally making a concerted effort to sell the house for the bank so they didn't have to go through the time and energy to foreclose.
However, in their non-answer I'm hearing their answer, and I'm moving on. I'll update the docs one more time, but if they have not come back with an acceptance by July 15th, we're told that it's unlikely our sale would close before the auction date.
So we're home and in the home-stretch, either way. While I have strong faith that God will bring us through this in all ways, I have very little faith that the house will transfer over to a happy new buyer anytime soon. I really hope Fannie Mae enjoys our great neighborhood. It's a great place to raise a family, and I'm sure it'll make her very happy.....
Except that I'm no longer a working mom! I took the leap and QUIT my job, giving notice in early May. My last day was last week, just in time for the kiddos to get done with school for the year (and to start arguing non-stop, but that's another post, probably for another blog). What changed to allow us to make this drastic decision?
Nothing. Nothing has changed, and that in itself was the catalyst for me staying home (for now, but more on that later). The sitter was still only committed through the end of the year, childcare was still getting more expensive by the minute (I'd be paying $2200/month right now if I were still working, and that's not even for the best places), and the most pressing of all - I truly feel called to be home with my kids. We spent the last year cutting back and digging out of debt to prepare for this choice, not knowing if we would actually make it happen, but here we are.
It's not going to be easy. The numbers don't work, but they weren't going to work paying $2200 per month, either, so we chose the lesser of two evils (broke and (relatively) quiet vs. broke and crazed). I'm investigating the process to become a licensed home-daycare provider so that I can bring in an income and still be home, but the more in depth on that I dig, the less appealing it is. However, seeing as I need an income, it's likely the best choice for us. I've also been casting a wide net for part-time evening/weekend jobs, but so far nothing has come of that.
For now, we're hunkering down. We have funds to sustain us a few months, and if push comes to shove we can live off Mr. Four Wall's income without touching the savings, but it won't be pretty. It's a giant leap of faith, and we're now in mid-air.
"But what about the house?" you're probably wondering.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero movement. Well, that's not true. We have received the Notice of Trustee's Sale, and the auction date is set for September 9th. That doesn't mean they've denied the short-sale; it just means that the foreclosure people have finally woken up and are starting that process, and it's now a race between the two departments to complete their job first. My money's on the foreclosure department, if the past year is any indication.
For the last 2 months (at least) we've been told we'll have an answer on the short-sale "this week" but we never get anything other than "it's still in review." Now they're asking yet again for all of our financial documents to be updated, which shows me they're dragging their feet and extending this as long as they can.
Not that I care anymore. We've done all that we can to work this out. Extra work, in-laws living with us, being beggars to our friends for childcare, and finally making a concerted effort to sell the house for the bank so they didn't have to go through the time and energy to foreclose.
However, in their non-answer I'm hearing their answer, and I'm moving on. I'll update the docs one more time, but if they have not come back with an acceptance by July 15th, we're told that it's unlikely our sale would close before the auction date.
So we're home and in the home-stretch, either way. While I have strong faith that God will bring us through this in all ways, I have very little faith that the house will transfer over to a happy new buyer anytime soon. I really hope Fannie Mae enjoys our great neighborhood. It's a great place to raise a family, and I'm sure it'll make her very happy.....
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The Path to Now, Part 5
I just realized that I never completely finished The Path to Now series. Really, I think most of you can fill in the blanks, but for finishing-sake, here it is.
Sweet Peanut was born September 26, 2009, and I returned to work full-time in early November, bringing her with me daily. That was both a blessing and a curse, as any working mom can probably imagine. The agreement with my boss was that I could bring her through mid-February, but I knew pretty early on that the arrangement wasn't going to work that long. It was so hard juggling her needs and the needs of my job, and I felt like I was never doing either well. However, we were at a loss for how we would pay for childcare, if we could even find one that we deemed acceptable. There are a lot of not-so-great day cares out there, if you weren't already aware!
While arranging to borrow some snow-gear for a trip to the mountains that winter, I mentioned to an acquaintance from church, a teacher taking some time off from work to care for her surprise third child, our difficulty in finding quality childcare for our newbie at a reasonable price. A week or so later, she contacted me to let me know that she really felt called to help us. Plus, she and her husband needed some work done on their house, so maybe we could pay her in services. We met together not too long later and decided to give it a go. Peanut began staying with her full-time while I worked in mid-January 2010, about 4 weeks before my deadline to find other arrangements.
The arrangement worked well for us, and I think it was generally positive for her and her family, too. However, we knew that it was somewhat temporary as we would eventually run out of projects we could do for payment, and she also had plans to return to school, potentially impacting her availability to care for Ellie by the end of the summer. The arrangement with Mr. Four Wall's mom was also nearing the end of its feasible life-span (and probably had already past it, if I'm being honest).
We spent the late winter and early spring of 2010 earnestly talking and praying on what direction to go. We knew God had given us this baby and put us exactly where we were for a reason. We also knew that our prayers for relief - for a return to normalcy - were not being answered, and we took that as Him telling us the solution required action from us beyond that which we'd already taken, that this was possibly our "new normal." For the time being, we were making it, but only on the generosity and blessing of others.
We took another long, hard look at our finances, cutting what little frivolity there was left in the budget. The numbers still didn't add up to begin paying for childcare for even one, let alone all three, of the children. We were both making relatively good money, towards the upper-ends of our positions. However, with ridiculous housing, childcare, commuting and health-insurance expenses, there was simply no way to make it all fit. Something had to give, and the only long-term solution we could see was cutting the housing expense.
We spent several weeks researching the value of our home, conferring with numerous real estate agents and meeting with an attorney to learn all of the ramifications of selling a home worth significantly less than we owed. We readied the house for the market (which also involved moving Mr. Four Wall's mom out, and losing childcare for the older two children, but that's a different story for another day). Then we took the leap. And that is where this blog began in June of 2010.
Sweet Peanut was born September 26, 2009, and I returned to work full-time in early November, bringing her with me daily. That was both a blessing and a curse, as any working mom can probably imagine. The agreement with my boss was that I could bring her through mid-February, but I knew pretty early on that the arrangement wasn't going to work that long. It was so hard juggling her needs and the needs of my job, and I felt like I was never doing either well. However, we were at a loss for how we would pay for childcare, if we could even find one that we deemed acceptable. There are a lot of not-so-great day cares out there, if you weren't already aware!
While arranging to borrow some snow-gear for a trip to the mountains that winter, I mentioned to an acquaintance from church, a teacher taking some time off from work to care for her surprise third child, our difficulty in finding quality childcare for our newbie at a reasonable price. A week or so later, she contacted me to let me know that she really felt called to help us. Plus, she and her husband needed some work done on their house, so maybe we could pay her in services. We met together not too long later and decided to give it a go. Peanut began staying with her full-time while I worked in mid-January 2010, about 4 weeks before my deadline to find other arrangements.
The arrangement worked well for us, and I think it was generally positive for her and her family, too. However, we knew that it was somewhat temporary as we would eventually run out of projects we could do for payment, and she also had plans to return to school, potentially impacting her availability to care for Ellie by the end of the summer. The arrangement with Mr. Four Wall's mom was also nearing the end of its feasible life-span (and probably had already past it, if I'm being honest).
We spent the late winter and early spring of 2010 earnestly talking and praying on what direction to go. We knew God had given us this baby and put us exactly where we were for a reason. We also knew that our prayers for relief - for a return to normalcy - were not being answered, and we took that as Him telling us the solution required action from us beyond that which we'd already taken, that this was possibly our "new normal." For the time being, we were making it, but only on the generosity and blessing of others.
We took another long, hard look at our finances, cutting what little frivolity there was left in the budget. The numbers still didn't add up to begin paying for childcare for even one, let alone all three, of the children. We were both making relatively good money, towards the upper-ends of our positions. However, with ridiculous housing, childcare, commuting and health-insurance expenses, there was simply no way to make it all fit. Something had to give, and the only long-term solution we could see was cutting the housing expense.
We spent several weeks researching the value of our home, conferring with numerous real estate agents and meeting with an attorney to learn all of the ramifications of selling a home worth significantly less than we owed. We readied the house for the market (which also involved moving Mr. Four Wall's mom out, and losing childcare for the older two children, but that's a different story for another day). Then we took the leap. And that is where this blog began in June of 2010.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Home Sweet Home
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
-John Howard Payne
...and yesterday, we found THE place. When Mr. Four Walls and I walked through it, we both new it could most definitely be home for us. Don't get me wrong, it's not our dream home - partly due to the fact that we will go from three toilets to (gulp!) one. Not wanting to be rash, we looked at a couple of other places and came home to think, pray, and talk. Really, we're six weeks out from the New Year, so we have time to be sure. However, we fairly quickly and easily agreed that we had found our new place.
Tonight we took the kids to see it, and they didn't want to leave. Peanut decided that the handle on the oven door resembled a monkey bar, so that's a habit we're going to have to break, but other than that (and the lone toilet....) it suits us just fine. The owner even came down on the rent by $125 per month as we were talking to him. Sweet! It's the right mix of down-grading and up-grading, simplicity and style, budget-consciousness and sanity-saving. There are "fun" projects for Mr. Four Walls towards which the landlord eagerly gave his blessing, and the girls are excited to live closer to some friends whom they rarely get to see.
As we drove across town back towards our...non-home, I almost cried. In fact, when the owner was walking us out and let us know how happy he was that we called him back because he knew that we were the right people for the place, I wanted to hug him. I didn't because that might have been a bit awkward, but the thought crossed my mind. Mr. Four Walls drove the dark, winding road back to the place that we will soon leave, and it hit me: for the past six months or so, I have felt homeless. Not homeless like I sleep in a doorway and scrounge for a meal, but Transient. Unsettled. Insecure.
That feeling is gone just like that. Anxiety is giving way - for this evening anyway - to anticipation. And these four walls, a roof, a door, some windows that once sheltered us so sweetly will soon give way to another set, from whose warm interior our family's laughter, joy, and hope for our future will soon pour.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
The Path to Now, Part 4
To recap, from January 2008 through early January 2009 where I ended the last post in this series:
1. We made the difficult decision to close our floundering general contracting company,
2. Mr. Four Walls took a job at roughly 40% of what he had made through our business,
3. I took a job outside the home to help make up some of the difference (nowhere near all of it, though),
4. Mr. Four Walls' mom moved in with us to watch the kids (then 3 & 5),
5. Mr. Four Walls was "temporarily" laid off (estimated to last 2 weeks, actually lasted 9), and
6. Surprise, I got pregnant with an IUD firmly in place while Mr. Four Walls was unemployed and we were uninsured.
Whew, that was a whirlwind of a year! But wait there's more......
My pregnancy went fairly smoothly, all things considered. Our second daughter had been born with no warning at 32 weeks, and had spent 3 weeks in the NICU (not bad at all for how early she was....) . Even without that history, the fact that I conceived with an IUD brought along it's own issues. Throw in the lack of insurance, and I was really overwhelmed. We made it through a very surreal first few weeks following my first pregnancy test - first told I wasn't actually pregnant, then told I was but that I would have to terminate , and then finally told that there was absolutely nothing abnormal about the pregnancy - and quickly we were able to get some health insurance in place for me. Thankfully, we were within 30 days of Mr. Four Walls being dropped from his employer's coverage, so there wasn't a huge issue getting the pregnancy covered.
We then turned toward the future and what this baby would mean for it. I had been at my job for right at a year, and I had no idea how they would handle our news. The company is over 40 years old, but they've never, not one time, had to deal with a pregnant employee. That's mainly because it's so small and has mostly employed men and only a few women, most of whom were already past their baby-making years when they started working there. We navigated through, and we were incredibly blessed by my employer. I was given some paid leave, followed by the opportunity to bring the baby with me when I returned. It meant that I had to return much sooner than I would have liked, right at 6 weeks, but that was their offer and as I knew I needed the job, I took it.
Against the odds, our little Peanut made her entrance on her due date, September 26th, 2009 at 4:04 in the afternoon, about three hours after my water broke. This was despite the fact that I had been in preterm/early labor since 31 weeks, with contractions coming every 10-20 minutes for roughly 2 months, with relatively few breaks. I worked up until the end of the day Friday, the 25th, and went home figuring that if the baby didn't come, I'd be back Monday morning. She was born on Saturday. I started my maternity leave that Monday knowing that I had only a few months before we would have to face the big issue of how in the world we would afford childcare for her once I could no longer bring her with me to the office.
I prayed A LOT, doing my best to trust that since God had blessed us with this baby, he'd bless us with a way to provide for her. But it was scary. We were already on the edge financially, since combined we were making so much less than we had been when we bought the house. Throw in all of the weeks of unemployment, the extra medical bills, and our commitment to eliminating our debts when things had seemed stable through most of 2008, and our savings was dwindling quickly. So while I trusted He'd provide, I knew deep down that it might not be in the miraculous, cash-falling-from-the-sky-way that we so often hope for when funds are low. Some may take this as a lack of faith, but I call it realism. I accept and wholeheartedly believe that big miracles can and do happen, but that more often than not God will simply nudge us in a direction and wait for us to take the steps.
1. We made the difficult decision to close our floundering general contracting company,
2. Mr. Four Walls took a job at roughly 40% of what he had made through our business,
3. I took a job outside the home to help make up some of the difference (nowhere near all of it, though),
4. Mr. Four Walls' mom moved in with us to watch the kids (then 3 & 5),
5. Mr. Four Walls was "temporarily" laid off (estimated to last 2 weeks, actually lasted 9), and
6. Surprise, I got pregnant with an IUD firmly in place while Mr. Four Walls was unemployed and we were uninsured.
Whew, that was a whirlwind of a year! But wait there's more......
My pregnancy went fairly smoothly, all things considered. Our second daughter had been born with no warning at 32 weeks, and had spent 3 weeks in the NICU (not bad at all for how early she was....) . Even without that history, the fact that I conceived with an IUD brought along it's own issues. Throw in the lack of insurance, and I was really overwhelmed. We made it through a very surreal first few weeks following my first pregnancy test - first told I wasn't actually pregnant, then told I was but that I would have to terminate , and then finally told that there was absolutely nothing abnormal about the pregnancy - and quickly we were able to get some health insurance in place for me. Thankfully, we were within 30 days of Mr. Four Walls being dropped from his employer's coverage, so there wasn't a huge issue getting the pregnancy covered.
We then turned toward the future and what this baby would mean for it. I had been at my job for right at a year, and I had no idea how they would handle our news. The company is over 40 years old, but they've never, not one time, had to deal with a pregnant employee. That's mainly because it's so small and has mostly employed men and only a few women, most of whom were already past their baby-making years when they started working there. We navigated through, and we were incredibly blessed by my employer. I was given some paid leave, followed by the opportunity to bring the baby with me when I returned. It meant that I had to return much sooner than I would have liked, right at 6 weeks, but that was their offer and as I knew I needed the job, I took it.
Against the odds, our little Peanut made her entrance on her due date, September 26th, 2009 at 4:04 in the afternoon, about three hours after my water broke. This was despite the fact that I had been in preterm/early labor since 31 weeks, with contractions coming every 10-20 minutes for roughly 2 months, with relatively few breaks. I worked up until the end of the day Friday, the 25th, and went home figuring that if the baby didn't come, I'd be back Monday morning. She was born on Saturday. I started my maternity leave that Monday knowing that I had only a few months before we would have to face the big issue of how in the world we would afford childcare for her once I could no longer bring her with me to the office.
I prayed A LOT, doing my best to trust that since God had blessed us with this baby, he'd bless us with a way to provide for her. But it was scary. We were already on the edge financially, since combined we were making so much less than we had been when we bought the house. Throw in all of the weeks of unemployment, the extra medical bills, and our commitment to eliminating our debts when things had seemed stable through most of 2008, and our savings was dwindling quickly. So while I trusted He'd provide, I knew deep down that it might not be in the miraculous, cash-falling-from-the-sky-way that we so often hope for when funds are low. Some may take this as a lack of faith, but I call it realism. I accept and wholeheartedly believe that big miracles can and do happen, but that more often than not God will simply nudge us in a direction and wait for us to take the steps.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
The Path to Now, Part 3
Continued from The Path to Now, Parts 1 & 2
The spring, summer, and early fall of 2008 passed fairly uneventfully. We were adjusting to being a two-working-parent household and having Mr. Four Walls' mom live with us, but financially we had stabilized. Don't get me wrong, it was tight, but it was doable. We we're making it, and had started in earnest to attack our credit card debt that had been hanging around so long it was almost a family pet. I downsized my car from the requisite Mom-mobile to a four-door compact to account for the long commutes and high-price of gas (that was the summer of $4+ per gallon of gas), as well as lowering the payment over $100 a month and reducing the insurance. Mr. Four Walls was working steadily, and we both received much-needed raises from our starting salaries. We knew eventually we should sell the house and down-size our expenses, but for the time-being we could make it, hoping to ride it out until values recovered a bit and we could break even. We weren't out of the woods, but we thought we were navigating through them, and every once in a while we caught glimpses of the pasture beyond. Then the season turned.
Mid-fall, I began not to feel well. It was more than just a cold, but we were so busy that I ignored it as much as I could. One morning in early December I woke up with a racing heart beat, and I couldn't ignore it any longer. It was a horrible feeling, like I had just ran a mile at full-speed hopped up on caffiene, but I had been asleep. The closest to feeling like that I had ever come before was when they had tried to stop my pre-term labor with Miss Florida, and the medication was horrible. Every few heart-beats my heart would jump, and then pause, and then jump. It was so scary. Mr. Four Walls took me to the ER, and thankfully we discovered that it was only a reaction to receiving a slightly incorrect dosage of medication for a different chronic condition that I've had for years. Very manageable and treatable, but it wiped me out for a couple of weeks, not to mention added the extra expenses of a trip to the ER and all the follow-up visits. Right about the time I started to feel a bit better, the huge snowstorm hit, leaving Mr. Four Walls essentially out of work. On top of that, he told me he wasn't sure but he thought he might be laid-off in the near future, and the week of Christmas he was. Merry Christmas, right?
All contractors in our area were, and are, still struggling to keep the work lined up, so it wasn't a complete surprise. They told him they expected to have another project for him just after the 1st of the year, so we resigned ourselves to the fact that Mr. Four Walls was taking an extended, unpaid holiday break. Not wanted, but not the end of the world. Two weeks turned into three, and then to four. I again started to feel really tired and "off," but knew that it wasn't my medication. I started trying to remember the last time I had been visited by my favorite aunt. I knew I had seen her in November, but could not recall for the life of me having a visit in December. Mr. Four Walls swore I had, and I believed him, chalking my lack of recall up to me being sick and barely functioning for the first half of December. By mid-January, however, I knew something was brewing. As I awoke the Saturday of MLK weekend I rolled over onto my stomach and about leapt out of bed in pain. I looked at Mr. Four Walls as he stood at the sink brushing his teeth.
"You have to go buy me a pregnancy test. Now."
He stood there looking at me like I was crazy. I had a Copper IUD, the statistically most effective form of birth control on the market, and in 5 years we had never had this issue. Even so, I made him go to the store right then and there, and he, being the loving and obedient husband he is, went without a fight. As he handed me the tests (a 2-pack - wise man) on my way into the bathroom, he told me I was crazy. Three minutes later....
....I knew nothing. The stupid test didn't work! Not even the control window registered anything. I got up and started the day, doing the usual Saturday morning chores and biding my time until I had to...um... pee. Mr. Four Walls still thought I was completely crazy and didn't even bother to come upstairs to our bedroom with me when I told him I was heading up to take the other test. Three minutes later....
....a faint positive. Very faint but definitely there. Alone, I sat on the edge of the tub for a few minutes, forcing myself to breathe in and out as I stared at the double line on the stick. I was so worried about how Mr. Four Walls would react. I was scared of another pregnancy. Obviously, it was not the best time for us financially, but my bigger concern had to do with how my previous pregnancy had ended: in a NICU with a teeny baby born at 32 weeks. The thoughts, fears, and questions flooded over me. How could we afford this baby? I hadn't even been at my job for a year. How would they react? Could I even carry this baby since I still had the IUD? 32 weeks is borderline for positive outcomes in the NICU. What if this one came sooner? It felt like I sat there forever. I was so shocked I didn't cry, just stared and tried to catch up to my racing mind. Finally, I called out downstairs and asked Mr. Four Walls to join me.
I was shaking, at least on the inside, as he came through the door. He had made it no secret that he wanted to be done with babies after our second was born, but had held off making it permanent to respect my wishes that we wait a few years to be sure. I had left the test sitting on the side of the tub, and asked him to go look at it while I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for his reaction. He picked it up and stared at it in silence for a few seconds. I walked over to stand next to him.
"So two lines means you are, right?"
"Yes."
Silent pause.
He turned to me, wrapped his arms around my waist, smiled and said, "Ah, crap." I have never laughed so hard in my life! I kissed him and thanked him for being so kind. Then we truly began the steep descent toward losing the house, together.
I'll continue The Path to Now in yet another entry.
The spring, summer, and early fall of 2008 passed fairly uneventfully. We were adjusting to being a two-working-parent household and having Mr. Four Walls' mom live with us, but financially we had stabilized. Don't get me wrong, it was tight, but it was doable. We we're making it, and had started in earnest to attack our credit card debt that had been hanging around so long it was almost a family pet. I downsized my car from the requisite Mom-mobile to a four-door compact to account for the long commutes and high-price of gas (that was the summer of $4+ per gallon of gas), as well as lowering the payment over $100 a month and reducing the insurance. Mr. Four Walls was working steadily, and we both received much-needed raises from our starting salaries. We knew eventually we should sell the house and down-size our expenses, but for the time-being we could make it, hoping to ride it out until values recovered a bit and we could break even. We weren't out of the woods, but we thought we were navigating through them, and every once in a while we caught glimpses of the pasture beyond. Then the season turned.
Mid-fall, I began not to feel well. It was more than just a cold, but we were so busy that I ignored it as much as I could. One morning in early December I woke up with a racing heart beat, and I couldn't ignore it any longer. It was a horrible feeling, like I had just ran a mile at full-speed hopped up on caffiene, but I had been asleep. The closest to feeling like that I had ever come before was when they had tried to stop my pre-term labor with Miss Florida, and the medication was horrible. Every few heart-beats my heart would jump, and then pause, and then jump. It was so scary. Mr. Four Walls took me to the ER, and thankfully we discovered that it was only a reaction to receiving a slightly incorrect dosage of medication for a different chronic condition that I've had for years. Very manageable and treatable, but it wiped me out for a couple of weeks, not to mention added the extra expenses of a trip to the ER and all the follow-up visits. Right about the time I started to feel a bit better, the huge snowstorm hit, leaving Mr. Four Walls essentially out of work. On top of that, he told me he wasn't sure but he thought he might be laid-off in the near future, and the week of Christmas he was. Merry Christmas, right?
All contractors in our area were, and are, still struggling to keep the work lined up, so it wasn't a complete surprise. They told him they expected to have another project for him just after the 1st of the year, so we resigned ourselves to the fact that Mr. Four Walls was taking an extended, unpaid holiday break. Not wanted, but not the end of the world. Two weeks turned into three, and then to four. I again started to feel really tired and "off," but knew that it wasn't my medication. I started trying to remember the last time I had been visited by my favorite aunt. I knew I had seen her in November, but could not recall for the life of me having a visit in December. Mr. Four Walls swore I had, and I believed him, chalking my lack of recall up to me being sick and barely functioning for the first half of December. By mid-January, however, I knew something was brewing. As I awoke the Saturday of MLK weekend I rolled over onto my stomach and about leapt out of bed in pain. I looked at Mr. Four Walls as he stood at the sink brushing his teeth.
"You have to go buy me a pregnancy test. Now."
He stood there looking at me like I was crazy. I had a Copper IUD, the statistically most effective form of birth control on the market, and in 5 years we had never had this issue. Even so, I made him go to the store right then and there, and he, being the loving and obedient husband he is, went without a fight. As he handed me the tests (a 2-pack - wise man) on my way into the bathroom, he told me I was crazy. Three minutes later....
....I knew nothing. The stupid test didn't work! Not even the control window registered anything. I got up and started the day, doing the usual Saturday morning chores and biding my time until I had to...um... pee. Mr. Four Walls still thought I was completely crazy and didn't even bother to come upstairs to our bedroom with me when I told him I was heading up to take the other test. Three minutes later....
....a faint positive. Very faint but definitely there. Alone, I sat on the edge of the tub for a few minutes, forcing myself to breathe in and out as I stared at the double line on the stick. I was so worried about how Mr. Four Walls would react. I was scared of another pregnancy. Obviously, it was not the best time for us financially, but my bigger concern had to do with how my previous pregnancy had ended: in a NICU with a teeny baby born at 32 weeks. The thoughts, fears, and questions flooded over me. How could we afford this baby? I hadn't even been at my job for a year. How would they react? Could I even carry this baby since I still had the IUD? 32 weeks is borderline for positive outcomes in the NICU. What if this one came sooner? It felt like I sat there forever. I was so shocked I didn't cry, just stared and tried to catch up to my racing mind. Finally, I called out downstairs and asked Mr. Four Walls to join me.
I was shaking, at least on the inside, as he came through the door. He had made it no secret that he wanted to be done with babies after our second was born, but had held off making it permanent to respect my wishes that we wait a few years to be sure. I had left the test sitting on the side of the tub, and asked him to go look at it while I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for his reaction. He picked it up and stared at it in silence for a few seconds. I walked over to stand next to him.
"So two lines means you are, right?"
"Yes."
Silent pause.
He turned to me, wrapped his arms around my waist, smiled and said, "Ah, crap." I have never laughed so hard in my life! I kissed him and thanked him for being so kind. Then we truly began the steep descent toward losing the house, together.
I'll continue The Path to Now in yet another entry.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
The Path to Now, Part 2
Continued from The Path to Now, Part 1...
By late 2007, we were seeing that work opportunities were going to be slim, and all signs were indicting that it would not be a temporary problem. After five years of pretty much exclusively doing new construction, subcontracting for other contractors, we started looking at the possibility of expanding our focus. We advertised and did some bidding on a couple of smallish residential remodel projects, but quickly realized that everyone and his brother were doing the same, and we could not really compete. I had already began to look for part-time work to help deflect against the smaller income that we were already seeing; however, not many local retailers were interested in hiring at all at that point - they were feeling the beginning of the pinch, too - and those that were looking were not interested in my limited availability of evenings and weekends. With two small kids, and no family close enough to help out, I was stuck. Once we saw how incredibly devastating the recession - not yet labelled that, but still - was to be for us we saw that the only chance we had to get through was for me to bring in a larger income than I could working part-time. The only problem? Child care.
We sat late into the evening one night, crunching numbers and brain storming. How long could we pay the bills if Mr. Four Walls was completely out of work? (A few months) How much would full-time child care cost for the girls? (A lot). Did we have anyone that could help us with them? (Yes). Phone calls were made, family meetings held, and shortly before Christmas it was decided that Mr. Four Walls' mother would move in with us, live rent-free, and care for the girls so I could work. She agreed to doing this for two years, and as we had no clue as to what was on the horizon, we figured that was as good as anything. We contemplated putting the house on the market right then, but didn't want to panic. Prices were already falling, there were several houses in our neighborhood already for sale, and we figured that it would be hard to break even since we'd just moved in the year before. Besides, if we found that we were too tight for very long we could list the house then. Prices were bound to stabilize soon and then we could list the house if needed, right?
I began to hunt for work in earnest, and Mr. Four Walls continued to work all of his contacts to line up work for the business. He was coming up completely empty. We made the very difficult decision to lay off our sole employee, and Mr. Four Walls kept trying to find jobs. It became pretty clear in the first part of January 2008, though, that nothing was coming our way for several months, and even then no one would commit to anything. I was going on interviews, and was also selling Pampered Chef in the evenings. One evening as I prepared to leave for a Cooking Show hosted by the wife of a friend from high school, we talked it over and decided that Mr. Four Walls should start to look for work at other companies. As an employee, not for our business. The discussion was quick, and I left for the show.
While chatting with my friend that evening, I mentioned our situation. He said his dad was working for a local design/build firm and had just been mentioning that they were looking for a carpenter. He called him right there, and Mr. Four Walls had an interview the next day. By the end of the week he was hired. It was a reasonable wage. Even so, it was a substantial decrease in income compared to what we had previously made. It became even more important for me to land something full-time. The last week of January I was offered my current position as an administrative assistant/bookkeeper, and so began my journey as a full time working mother, commuting 80 miles a day. Combined we were still making quite a bit less than we did before, but in the next few months we could see that we were going to make it work, at least for a couple for years. By then, we figured, things were bound to have improved in the housing market. We planned to then either sell the house or go back into business for ourselves, or even both.
Overall, we were feeling positive about how we were landing. It was going more smoothly than we expected having Mr. Four Walls' mom live with us. We both settled in pretty quickly with our new jobs and liked the positions and those with whom we worked. That's not to say that life was not without it's challenges, especially for me. I struggled emotionally with leaving the kids. I'd never really been away from them on a regular basis. I mourned having to give up working in Jellybean's kindergarten class, and the special time that I had with Miss Florida on Jellybean's school days, when it was just the two of us - a rarity for a second child. The girls adjusted, but they both had their struggles, too, and to this day still cry sometimes about me having to go to work.
I never wanted to be a working mom, full-time at least. I had a working mom, a wonderful mom, growing up - but I could see the struggle and how thinly she was stretched, and I wanted more for myself and for my own kids. I never had the desire to be the super-mom shown on the t.v. shows of my childhood: Family Ties, The Cosby Show, Who's the Boss. Even as a child, all I could see when I watched those funny, smart, articulate women was how much they were missing with their kids. However, finances dictated that I work, as they had dictated that my mother work (oddly enough I was five when she went to work full-time, and Amelia was five when I went to work full-time...strange...). So I prayed and sucked it up, waiting for God to step in and make it all better. I'm still waiting on that.
I'll continue to tell of The Path to Now in yet another entry.
By late 2007, we were seeing that work opportunities were going to be slim, and all signs were indicting that it would not be a temporary problem. After five years of pretty much exclusively doing new construction, subcontracting for other contractors, we started looking at the possibility of expanding our focus. We advertised and did some bidding on a couple of smallish residential remodel projects, but quickly realized that everyone and his brother were doing the same, and we could not really compete. I had already began to look for part-time work to help deflect against the smaller income that we were already seeing; however, not many local retailers were interested in hiring at all at that point - they were feeling the beginning of the pinch, too - and those that were looking were not interested in my limited availability of evenings and weekends. With two small kids, and no family close enough to help out, I was stuck. Once we saw how incredibly devastating the recession - not yet labelled that, but still - was to be for us we saw that the only chance we had to get through was for me to bring in a larger income than I could working part-time. The only problem? Child care.
We sat late into the evening one night, crunching numbers and brain storming. How long could we pay the bills if Mr. Four Walls was completely out of work? (A few months) How much would full-time child care cost for the girls? (A lot). Did we have anyone that could help us with them? (Yes). Phone calls were made, family meetings held, and shortly before Christmas it was decided that Mr. Four Walls' mother would move in with us, live rent-free, and care for the girls so I could work. She agreed to doing this for two years, and as we had no clue as to what was on the horizon, we figured that was as good as anything. We contemplated putting the house on the market right then, but didn't want to panic. Prices were already falling, there were several houses in our neighborhood already for sale, and we figured that it would be hard to break even since we'd just moved in the year before. Besides, if we found that we were too tight for very long we could list the house then. Prices were bound to stabilize soon and then we could list the house if needed, right?
I began to hunt for work in earnest, and Mr. Four Walls continued to work all of his contacts to line up work for the business. He was coming up completely empty. We made the very difficult decision to lay off our sole employee, and Mr. Four Walls kept trying to find jobs. It became pretty clear in the first part of January 2008, though, that nothing was coming our way for several months, and even then no one would commit to anything. I was going on interviews, and was also selling Pampered Chef in the evenings. One evening as I prepared to leave for a Cooking Show hosted by the wife of a friend from high school, we talked it over and decided that Mr. Four Walls should start to look for work at other companies. As an employee, not for our business. The discussion was quick, and I left for the show.
While chatting with my friend that evening, I mentioned our situation. He said his dad was working for a local design/build firm and had just been mentioning that they were looking for a carpenter. He called him right there, and Mr. Four Walls had an interview the next day. By the end of the week he was hired. It was a reasonable wage. Even so, it was a substantial decrease in income compared to what we had previously made. It became even more important for me to land something full-time. The last week of January I was offered my current position as an administrative assistant/bookkeeper, and so began my journey as a full time working mother, commuting 80 miles a day. Combined we were still making quite a bit less than we did before, but in the next few months we could see that we were going to make it work, at least for a couple for years. By then, we figured, things were bound to have improved in the housing market. We planned to then either sell the house or go back into business for ourselves, or even both.
Overall, we were feeling positive about how we were landing. It was going more smoothly than we expected having Mr. Four Walls' mom live with us. We both settled in pretty quickly with our new jobs and liked the positions and those with whom we worked. That's not to say that life was not without it's challenges, especially for me. I struggled emotionally with leaving the kids. I'd never really been away from them on a regular basis. I mourned having to give up working in Jellybean's kindergarten class, and the special time that I had with Miss Florida on Jellybean's school days, when it was just the two of us - a rarity for a second child. The girls adjusted, but they both had their struggles, too, and to this day still cry sometimes about me having to go to work.
I never wanted to be a working mom, full-time at least. I had a working mom, a wonderful mom, growing up - but I could see the struggle and how thinly she was stretched, and I wanted more for myself and for my own kids. I never had the desire to be the super-mom shown on the t.v. shows of my childhood: Family Ties, The Cosby Show, Who's the Boss. Even as a child, all I could see when I watched those funny, smart, articulate women was how much they were missing with their kids. However, finances dictated that I work, as they had dictated that my mother work (oddly enough I was five when she went to work full-time, and Amelia was five when I went to work full-time...strange...). So I prayed and sucked it up, waiting for God to step in and make it all better. I'm still waiting on that.
I'll continue to tell of The Path to Now in yet another entry.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
The Path to Now, Part 1
Life was great in the summer of 2006, when we purchased this house. We had two adorable, healthy little girls, and Mr. Four Walls and I were each doing exactly what we felt we were supposed to be doing: running his framing company - him on the job-site and me doing the paperwork from home - and me being a stay-at-home-mom. I've shared in another post about selling our last house very quickly and finding this one - The One - that same day. We moved in towards the end of August 2006, and quickly settled in. The neighbors were warm and welcoming. Jellybean (our oldest) loved her new preschool, and I began to forge what have become some of my most important friendships with some of the other moms. Mr. Four Walls' framing company was booming, and we couldn't get the jobs done fast enough to move onto the next. Financially, it was an adjustment tripling our mortgage; we had less fun-money (that we should have been doing more with than having fun...), but we were having no problem making ends meet. We were even building up a fairly good emergency fund (and that has definitely come in handy over the past couple of years, even if it's gone now...). We knew when we bought this house that we were going to the outer-edge of our comfort level, budget-wise, but it was only 3 years at that point until Miss Florida (then our youngest) was to start school full-time and then I'd be freed up to work more than just part-time, on Mr. Four Walls' company or for someone else. Wise? Maybe not, but also not out of the norm for families looking for a "forever" home in a great neighborhood with a good school district.
The first signs that life was starting to change began in the spring of 2007, about 9 months after we moved in. The housing market started to slow, just a bit. Not enough to cause great worry, but we could see that we were going to have to tighten our belts a bit more to ride out what seemed at the time to be a slight slow-down in the pace that the builders were wanting us to build their houses. Not a big deal, really. Then in September 2007, the brakes started grinding, and we could tell that the winds of change were blowing. Builders were suddenly pressing pause on entire developments, and lots that had previously been "ours" to frame on were being put on the back-burner. The home builders were beginning to feel the first blow of the now-notorious "credit-crunch," and we felt it right along with them. The urgency from the builders for us to get done to move onto the next home was not there, but we were still working...for the time being.....
I'll continue "The Path to Now" in an upcoming entry.
The first signs that life was starting to change began in the spring of 2007, about 9 months after we moved in. The housing market started to slow, just a bit. Not enough to cause great worry, but we could see that we were going to have to tighten our belts a bit more to ride out what seemed at the time to be a slight slow-down in the pace that the builders were wanting us to build their houses. Not a big deal, really. Then in September 2007, the brakes started grinding, and we could tell that the winds of change were blowing. Builders were suddenly pressing pause on entire developments, and lots that had previously been "ours" to frame on were being put on the back-burner. The home builders were beginning to feel the first blow of the now-notorious "credit-crunch," and we felt it right along with them. The urgency from the builders for us to get done to move onto the next home was not there, but we were still working...for the time being.....
I'll continue "The Path to Now" in an upcoming entry.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Goodbye Teddy
I remember the first time I saw this house. It was a beautiful, hot July day in 2006. Our wonderful agent had worked an Open House at our previous house the whole day, and by mid-afternoon had three full-price offers for us to review. That house had only been on the market for three days, and while we knew it was a great house we didn't expect it to move so quickly! Being the trooper she was, she agreed to spend the late afternoon and evening with us and our then youngest daughter, then two years old, looking at houses. We looked at several, and a few piqued our interest but they weren't quite right. The very last house in the stack was a tri-level and it seemed to be way too far off the beaten path, both of which were strikes against it in my eyes. Nor was I enthused by the photos of it in the listing. It looked awkward and all I could see when I looked at it was the garage However, we were already out and about and it was just another few minutes, so I agreed to look at one more house that day.
As we rounded the corner onto the street, I knew I was home, and I hadn't even pulled into the driveway. We climbed the stairs onto the porch; I turned and could see the foothills of the mountains in the East and the beginnings of a fiery, summer sunset over the tree-tops in the West. The sounds of kids playing in the late evening warmth rose up from the surrounding backyards and echoed through the neighborhood. Our agent unlocked the house and we stepped inside. The previous owners had just moved the last of their things out that afternoon, and the house was freshly cleaned. And it was so beautiful. I loved the colors. I loved the lines. I loved the yard. I LOVED the bathtub. Our daughter and I even climbed in and sat for a few minutes, pretending to take a bubble bath. Mr. Four Walls was pleased that I was pleased, but was sold the moment he opened the garage door and saw all the space. Yep, this would do it for him.
We went back to our house, ordered pizza for our agent and her husband, who had joined us by that point, and sat down to write up the offer. About 36 hours later, we had a signed agreement with the sellers, and the beautiful but out-of-the-way, last-house-on-the-list was well on its way to becoming our home. The home that our kids would run to from the bus stop after school for years until they were old enough to park their cars in front of it. The home that our families would travel to for too much Turkey on cold, blustery November Thursdays. The home that we would sit in, listening to frogs sing their courtship songs across the lake and wetlands that border the neighborhood and to the far off drum-cadence during the high-school football games, instead of the airplanes, sirens, and and gunshots that rang through the streets of our old neighborhoods. We'd worked hard, building a business and building a life that was better for us and for our young kids, and we had found the home in which to celebrate those accomplishments.
Today the for-sale sign went in out front, and strangers can now peer into my kitchen, my bathrooms, my closets with just a mere phone call, and actually with just the click of a mouse. It's so strange to think about, someone else walking through this house, wanting it to be their home. We sold our last house, and while we'd put a lot of ourselves into it, it felt so right and appropriate that someone else should want it. It was time to move on. This feels different. This feels wrong, like.... like a piece of my life is up for grabs. Like when I was little and my older brothers would snatch one of my prized stuffed animals and toss it back and forth above my head to taunt me, and try as I might I couldn't get it back from them. The difference here is that at some point my brother would either get bored and drop it where ever they were as they moved onto their next trouble-making endeavor, or my parents would intervene and tell them to leave me alone. Either way, I'd get my sweet teddy-bear back. This time, however, no one will get bored, no one will intervene, and I won't get to take back my "teddy-bear." No. It's been thrown over the fence into the mean neighbor's yard, and their dogs have now made it their personal chew-toy. It's gone for good, and I have to move on.
As we rounded the corner onto the street, I knew I was home, and I hadn't even pulled into the driveway. We climbed the stairs onto the porch; I turned and could see the foothills of the mountains in the East and the beginnings of a fiery, summer sunset over the tree-tops in the West. The sounds of kids playing in the late evening warmth rose up from the surrounding backyards and echoed through the neighborhood. Our agent unlocked the house and we stepped inside. The previous owners had just moved the last of their things out that afternoon, and the house was freshly cleaned. And it was so beautiful. I loved the colors. I loved the lines. I loved the yard. I LOVED the bathtub. Our daughter and I even climbed in and sat for a few minutes, pretending to take a bubble bath. Mr. Four Walls was pleased that I was pleased, but was sold the moment he opened the garage door and saw all the space. Yep, this would do it for him.
We went back to our house, ordered pizza for our agent and her husband, who had joined us by that point, and sat down to write up the offer. About 36 hours later, we had a signed agreement with the sellers, and the beautiful but out-of-the-way, last-house-on-the-list was well on its way to becoming our home. The home that our kids would run to from the bus stop after school for years until they were old enough to park their cars in front of it. The home that our families would travel to for too much Turkey on cold, blustery November Thursdays. The home that we would sit in, listening to frogs sing their courtship songs across the lake and wetlands that border the neighborhood and to the far off drum-cadence during the high-school football games, instead of the airplanes, sirens, and and gunshots that rang through the streets of our old neighborhoods. We'd worked hard, building a business and building a life that was better for us and for our young kids, and we had found the home in which to celebrate those accomplishments.
Today the for-sale sign went in out front, and strangers can now peer into my kitchen, my bathrooms, my closets with just a mere phone call, and actually with just the click of a mouse. It's so strange to think about, someone else walking through this house, wanting it to be their home. We sold our last house, and while we'd put a lot of ourselves into it, it felt so right and appropriate that someone else should want it. It was time to move on. This feels different. This feels wrong, like.... like a piece of my life is up for grabs. Like when I was little and my older brothers would snatch one of my prized stuffed animals and toss it back and forth above my head to taunt me, and try as I might I couldn't get it back from them. The difference here is that at some point my brother would either get bored and drop it where ever they were as they moved onto their next trouble-making endeavor, or my parents would intervene and tell them to leave me alone. Either way, I'd get my sweet teddy-bear back. This time, however, no one will get bored, no one will intervene, and I won't get to take back my "teddy-bear." No. It's been thrown over the fence into the mean neighbor's yard, and their dogs have now made it their personal chew-toy. It's gone for good, and I have to move on.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Night Wakings
It's Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, and our home goes on the market in two days. Not because we want to move (we don't), not because we have some new and exciting adventure towards which to head (although we try to think we do), and not because we dislike our current home (we love it). Our home goes on the market because we can no longer afford it. Of course this wasn't an overnight revelation. This has been a long time coming, and I'll relay that tale over another few posts in the coming days. Over the course of the process, numerous people have suggested that I blog about our experience, and I've always resisted. Afterall, I'm a full-time working mother of 3 kids. Seriously, when would I actually have the time?! Plus, I'm not sure how many people really want to read my innermost thoughts. I bore myself most days. Even so, I woke up last night with the clearest picture of what I should be writing about, cyber-pen to cyper-page, and what this blog should be called.
Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows. It's a line from a Dixie Chicks song, called A Home. It has stuck in my head for the past two plus years, reminding me that no matter how attached I am, we all are, to our homes, they really just are some walls, a roof, a door, some windows....replaceable. So at 2 a.m. this morning, with this song playing over and over and over in my head, I tossed and I turned trying to justify my reasons for not writing about this. But I couldn't. I believe in God. I believe that He has us walk through some really difficult "stuff" sometimes. I believe it's always for a reason. I believe that He woke me last night (although my husband thinks it might have been a bad burger...) with this song in my head and these words on my heart for one reason: to put my thoughts, my feelings, my fears, my emotions out there for others - some who know me well and others whom I have never met - to read and to experience and to maybe relate to them along side me. So over the next several months, as we attempt to sell our house before the foreclosure notices start arriving and the auction date is set, I'll share with you, my dear reader and friend. Please don't judge me too harshly for my failures, and please forgive me for my typos - of which I'm sure there will be many as I expect I'll frequently be writing with a baby on my hip as I help one or two other kids with their homework, all while folding laundry or sorting mail. (Only so many hours in the day! A mom's got to multi-task, right?). Wish us luck, send us your prayers, and please attempt to laugh at my humor. I'll be back soon.
Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows. It's a line from a Dixie Chicks song, called A Home. It has stuck in my head for the past two plus years, reminding me that no matter how attached I am, we all are, to our homes, they really just are some walls, a roof, a door, some windows....replaceable. So at 2 a.m. this morning, with this song playing over and over and over in my head, I tossed and I turned trying to justify my reasons for not writing about this. But I couldn't. I believe in God. I believe that He has us walk through some really difficult "stuff" sometimes. I believe it's always for a reason. I believe that He woke me last night (although my husband thinks it might have been a bad burger...) with this song in my head and these words on my heart for one reason: to put my thoughts, my feelings, my fears, my emotions out there for others - some who know me well and others whom I have never met - to read and to experience and to maybe relate to them along side me. So over the next several months, as we attempt to sell our house before the foreclosure notices start arriving and the auction date is set, I'll share with you, my dear reader and friend. Please don't judge me too harshly for my failures, and please forgive me for my typos - of which I'm sure there will be many as I expect I'll frequently be writing with a baby on my hip as I help one or two other kids with their homework, all while folding laundry or sorting mail. (Only so many hours in the day! A mom's got to multi-task, right?). Wish us luck, send us your prayers, and please attempt to laugh at my humor. I'll be back soon.
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