one more night

As the children at their last supper in the house on Grooms Street, it occurred to me that Tillie was only five months old when we moved in here. And then it occurred to me that Catcher had just turned four when we moved in...and Tillie just turned four herself earlier this month.

Tomorrow is moving day, so I suspect I'll be off the grid for a bit. It always takes a while for us to get ourselves back in the 21st century. I'm glad February has an extra day this year--we're going to need it! 

knocking down walls

Meanwhile...back at the house...

Some time after Waco but before Oxford, Alex carved out several good hours of bathroom demo. I've been up to my eyeballs packing in the meantime, where I've almost reached that I-don't-care-where-this-goes-I'm-just-throwing-it-into-a-random-box phase. Catcher and Scout show up at the new house every now and again--usually when we're going to pick up Dad who's been slinging the sledgehammer all day--while Tillie has been my design assistant and knows all the guys at the Tile Guy by name.

super tillie

Let's not forget that in the middle of packing and excluding rodents from our new house and tearing up the bathrooms (just wait for those photos), we're in the middle of an unseasonably warm February--even by Texas standards. The other day when I needed a break from my to-do list, and Tillie was looking particularly cute in the princess/superhero ensemble she had put together, we stepped out into the sunshine for a moment that can only be made possible by a four year-old. It's too bad I didn't get the plastic heels she was wearing in the shot.

inspiration for our renovation

Before we could tackle a renovation project of our own, Alex and I figured it only made sense to visit the Fixer-Upper capital of the world--Waco, TX. And speaking of worlds, the line to get into Magnolia Market was longer than some of the lines we encountered in Disney World. Needless to say, we did not come home with any amazing finds--I get anxious in crowded shopping environments--but the caramel corn we purchased in lieu of unnecessary knick-knacks was worth the trip as far as the children were concerned. The outdoor play/chill area was pretty chill as well.

daddy's girls

In the midst of all the closing excitement (if you want to call it that) taking place last Thursday into Friday, there was something even more monumental on the horizon--Scout and Tillie's first Father-Daughter Dance. The girls had been talking about it for weeks, and last Friday evening they were finally able to get dressed in their Valentine's Day best and do the Whip and 'Nay 'Nay (I'm not even sure if I'm writing that correctly) in our church basement. Scout wanted to wear her tube socks with her dress, by the way, but I talked her out of it at the last minute.

Meanwhile Catcher and I had a date of our own (not pictured) at a cozy little Italian restaurant down the street. We went early and dined with the folks who go out at 5:00pm because we had to get home in time to watch Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire before the girls returned.

howdy neighbor!

This morning Alex and I took the kids by the new house, which officially belongs to us after funding went through at 4:26pm yesterday. There was one last snafu yesterday (because why wouldn't there be?) when the title company realized they had not included a paper that the seller needed to sign in his mobile notary pack. Lucky for us,  he was able to get himself to a Kinko's and have it signed and notarized by close-of-business. Finally we're homeowners, and this morning we went to check things out since we got cheated out of our final walk through due to Traingate.

But I suppose all the drama was worth it in the end because 1) We're homeowners again; and 2) one of our neighbors left a bottle of sparkling rose on the doorstep. It was quite a pleasant surprise at 8 o'clock this morning, and now Alex doesn't have to get me a Valentine's Day present.

almost isn't good enough...

except in horseshoes and real estate (if you're lucky and praying there's no FedEx catastrophe tonight).

"It's like going to the hospital and coming home without a baby," is what our realtor said when we walked into the closing office of the title company this morning. She was dead on. The perky receptionist had already rubbed me the wrong way, and I might have lost it if one person uttered "congratulations" as we were signing the papers that would make us homeowners once again. Because we were simply homeowners-in-waiting at that time. The only thing inhibiting the process, of course, was the seller who hadn't completed his end of the deal. Every time I saw his name etched under the line "Seller," my stomach dropped.

After several toy train jokes and thirty minutes of signing, Alex and I went on our way as homeowners-in-waiting. We were both feeling oddly depressed and thought that a trip to Home Depot would perk up our spirits and get the creative juices flowing. Word to the wise: if you almost, but not quite, become a homeowner one morning, do not (do not) go directly to the Home Depot. We walked out with $20 worth of boxes and a pack of Mentos.

Meanwhile, back in Seattle (or Salem...or Portland...or wherever); actually I don't know what was happening at this time out west, but I imagine our seller was waking up to his artisan-brewed coffee thinking what a beautiful morning it was. He wasn't thinking about the family he sent into a tailspin less than 24 hours earlier. He probably wasn't even thinking about his toy trains that meant so much just hours ago. Alex and I were bummed, but we had the law on our side.

At noon, as I was releasing my frustration by furiously packing all the books in our house, our realtor texted us to say the seller had agreed to meet the mobile notary at 1:00pm (3:00 our time) at the Starbucks in some place Oregon. My memory did not fail me, however, as I recalled this was a repeat of yesterday's episode. I wouldn't let myself believe that this time it would be different.

By 3:55pm (our time) I was wondering if "no news was good news" or no news was bad news or no news was just no news. And then the text arrived. Our realtor let us know that he had signed. I laughed out loud. Literally. Laughed. Out. Loud. I sometimes laugh at inappropriate times because I'm not sure what emotion I should be feeling. This may have been one of those times.

And so the story ends. At least I hope that is the end. The only thing that could go against us now is the FedEx package with the signed papers getting lost somewhere overnight before it makes its way from Oregon to Austin. But what are the chances of that happening? I think our story is good enough already.