ISOPH

(In Search of Perfect House)

Home shopping is like speed dating. Except you have to propose after the first, possibly second, date. You do get to check them out beforehand, and bring an expert adviser along on your date, but you have to know--bam!--if the chemistry is there.

Of course, it's not really an option to completely renovate your spouse. Houses do have that advantage.

I kid.

The problem with house hunting is the number of options. Where should we live? Stay in humdrum but dependable Roy? Join the snobbery of the east bench? Out beyond farthest Egypt in Syracuse or West Point? Would we be comfortable in 2600 square feet (double what we have now) or should we go for a behemoth at nearly 4000 that is somehow in our price range? One of my current favorites has a nice workshop area in the basement. Should I take up woodworking? Maybe I could them make all the new furniture I want instead of buying it.

Also, should we give up looking at existing and just decide to build? If lightning doesn't strike soon we may just decide on that.

Looking back now, I'm amazed at how nonchalant we've always chosen where we lived now. We chose apartments after looking at a few. We looked only at houses in Roy last time. Back then the stakes seemed a lot smaller, the consequences more temporary.

The last time we moved we didn't have any kids. We didn't think about schools or neighborhoods or traffic or crime stats. We didn't worry about choosing a house that would have the right friends for our kids, a situation that would help us as we try to somehow nurture these beings into adulthood. Also, making friends as an adult is trickier than it used to be--would it be too much to ask to have adult neighbors we like as well? (We do have awesome neighbors now, and I wish we could pack them up and bring them with us.)

Same goes for our ward. Our ward has its struggles, which we have seen and worked around as we've been in leadership positions for the last seven years (either one or both of us for nearly the entire time we've lived here). But we love the people in our ward. There are some people I just ache about leaving. But, we don't feel like the house that we could possibly buy in our ward is the right option for us.

So, a house that is big but not too big, with a lot that is spacious without being a beast to take care of, with a truly perfect kitchen with a pantry, a mudroom, three or more bedrooms, a master suite, and the mystical, undefinable quality that will make that place our home. And room for a piano. Is that too much to ask?

Alice the Rascal

Last night, sitting in her bed at bedtime, holding a pencil and paper.

I'm doing my potty homework.

Oh? How is it going?

I have to do the numbers again. They got messed up.


***

Sitting in her carseat, recently.

Once Nathan sat there (gesturing to Peter's carseat), and it was awkward.


***

Tonight at bedtime, freshly bathed and with pajamas on. She (unless it was Peter?) dumped the bottle of hand soap all over the bathroom floor, and they both crawled in it. Alice kept trying and trying to stand up but couldn't. Just slipping all over the bathroom floor and eventually crying. After being cleaned up, we had this conversation.

Did you or Peter do it?

I did it.

Why?

Because it was slippery.

Do you do it on purpose or on accident?

I did it on purpose. Because it was slippery.


Tonight was a moment I chose to laugh. And video my child's distress.

It's not even April Fool's Day

On April Fool's Day our realtor called to assure us, "This isn't an April Fool's Prank, but someone wants to see your house in 45 minutes." We pushed it back another half hour, and I got to work, cleaning, loading kids in the car, and then final cleaning. I had it down to an art. Also, speed vacuuming is good exercise. We ended up having three showings that day.

Lots and lots of showings, but no offers. Until.

Peter got the best birthday present. He didn't really care about it, but Levi and I were happy.

It's been one month since we put our house up. We've had 29 showings, three birthdays, general conference weekend, and now...

One signed contract. Wahoo!

And none too soon. We were keeping the house pretty clean, ready to ship out at short notice. The kids were great. For a brief period they were picking up toys, putting dirty clothes in the hamper, all sorts of cleanliness. I loved it. But it also felt like we couldn't relax and just live in our house. Our house was on the market for exactly one month, and we had showings nearly every day. Sometimes as many as three in a day. It's a seller's market. And we are sellers. We spent lots of time at grandparents' houses, and then started a tour of Weber county playgrounds. Turns out most playground bathrooms are locked mid-March, so we also made a couple unscheduled visits to family members who happened to live near those parks. They were very gracious.

On Peter's birthday, we got two offers on our house. The first was all right, and we were planning our counteroffer, when we got another. Full asking price, and we pay closing costs. Done and done. More savvy negotiators might have tried to play them against each other to knock out the closing costs, but that's not us. I was just happy to sell it for more than we paid, since I've spent much of the last seven years sure that we would lose money on this house.

Closing isn't for six more weeks, which is perfect, since now the real work begins. Finding a new home.