A typical call:

What? Can we show our home in 2o minutes? Excuse me ma'am while I try to scrape the spaghetti noodles off the stove as I just finished making dinner. I hope the potential buyers don't mind the smell of garlic. My sorted laundry is on the bed...but it is color matched and fresh as a daisy. Of course we can all clear out in 15 minutes. I'll just drag the dogs in from the rain and throw them in the van with the rest of the kids. Let me just clean the wet paw prints off the floor..maybe some Febreeze might kill the wet dog/garlic smell. Sorry about the front lawn being half mowed..but it did just start to rain. Pay no mind to the 2 overflowing bins at the edge of the drive...its garbage day and the truck is late. No... no, of course we can accommodate your customers...even though their house probably isn't even on the market yet and they have no intention of buying this one.

That's what it's like really. I could have this entire house in pristine condition...for days. And the minute..no the moment there are more then 4 dirty dishes on our counter, a planned sleepover, or some dreaded family flu..you just know that phone is going to ring.

But sure, we accommodate. We run around like a crazed professional cleaning service..why? Because that ONE viewing could be THE buyer that we need...that we lose sleep over...that we want to do back flips for...just so he will buy our home.

Do these people appreciate it? Do they have any clue about how difficult it is to present a perfect home while 5 people and 2 dogs live in it? I doubt it. Even worse is after the fact. The viewing is over...we all drag ourselves home from either hanging out at Food Lion for an hour or driving aimlessly throughout the subdivision just to kill time. Today we couldn't be bothered and ended up parked at the top of the road for 45 minutes..then I worried that the neighbors yonder might see us all parked there ...not knowing who we were and think we were stalkers as the first elementary school bus was about due at the corner.

After all that we were relieved to see the Realtors car whiz by us so we could reclaim our home. Within 2 hours the counter was covered in crumbs, the dogs tore up the toilet paper roll, and after a good workout..my son had the entire bottom floor smelling of sweat. That's when centralized showing called back of course.

This time we camped out in the local parking lot eating Chinese take out.

It was the same people that had viewed the house earlier. We were kind of excited, giddy really...I mean, who comes back in 2 hours if they aren't serious? We celebrated with ice cream, toasted with Pepsi and made our way home....only to discover that the people didn't choose to purchase our home after all. Idiots.

I wonder how many more times we will have to go through this mad dance?

I wonder if I dare to ever plan anything?

Oops gotta go...the phone's ringing..centralized showing.

I haven't posted in a bit...mainly because I could not find my way out to. I have been packing, sorting, throwing, taping, and moving boxes. Yes, we have decided to take that big step again...time to move house!

It's a real mixture of emotions..selling and buying. You look around and see all the hard work your hubby has done, the decorating it took time to accomplish...the little reminders of memories that you will be leaving behind. Yet..you look forward to a new place, a new challenge, new people..areas...and its a little thrill...well, until you realize what you have to pack to get there.

Who knew that one could gather so much useless junk? Some of this stuff I've been carting around for 20 years, and thus it is time to get brutal. Sometimes I just stare at a closet and get exhausted. Other times I need to take a break before I start. Most days I'm filled with anxiety on whether or not the phone will ring with some potential buyer. No wonder hubby and I can't sleep. I wake up more tired then I was when I went to bed. My house smells of Windex and Lysol...I have little Glade fresheners in my closets, bleach tablets in every toilet...my fingers are numb from scrubbing...wiping...washing. My right elbow is in rebellion from it's work out with the paint roller. My feet ache from running up and down the stairs with the vacuum. The dogs are stuck to the floor in puddles of wax. I think I may have even put my youngest in the closet just in the hopes of keeping her room tidy. My carpets are clean, the walls are spotless and the appliances gleaming. We have packed and piled more boxes then I am willing to count into some storage container that a very decent man with a giant lift took away. (I hope they don't lose it) Now..I just wait. Now..I am impatient. Now, I fear that the minute I put something like fish or cabbage on for dinner people will want to visit. I fear that the dogs will vomit on my white carpet at the first sign of a potential buyer...the children will decide to revisit their pasts and drag out all 1000 pieces of Lego or headless Barbies. I can't think about it..instead I will scour the internet's MLS listings...staring at countless virtual tours and promises of paradise found. I will undoubtedly give myself more stress wondering if house A is right because it has a bigger yard..or house B because it has no yard. Then there will be house C...with a screen porch...or house D...with a deck.

House E has a fence..whereas house F has a pond. House G is in the woods, H is in the city, I is on a farm. Obviously, I could go on. Deluxe master bath. What does that mean exactly? A bidet? What is glorious closet space? An airy atmosphere? These agents should be writers...fictional. Have you ever visited a "wonderful country setting" that consisted of a small house jammed between 2 others...with chickens? Agh...the selling is stressful...the buying is stressful. I need a break...some lemonade maybe...but I can't find my pitcher. I cant even find the lemonade. Forget it, I'll go out. Come to think of it ..where are my keys?....

It's official...I have man hands.

My nails are chipped, the pink nail polish has worn away, there's grime underneath each nail, and my knuckles look swollen. This is what I get for buying and attempting to plant (in 2 days)more flowers than my gardening beds can hold. But I must admit, I am a flower maniac. A few days ago (the unfortunate incident where I took my Wrangler and failed miserably) I had just a handful of of gigantic man eating plants.(I say that because I still haven't found my husband out back since I planted) Today I have more colors and flowers then I can count. I had a glorious spend at the garden center! I had enlisted my husband, children, and visiting best friend to trail behind me like good little soldiers with a procession of red wagons while I threw everything (including an innocent passersby) into their carts. I couldn't pronounce most of what I bought..but that just made it much more exciting. Who needs Petunias when one can buy exotic plants like Bougainvilleas? I am not deluding myself here. I realize that I will probably inadvertently kill 70 percent of my haul. I am like a mad scientist when it comes to weed killer, fertilizer, and highly specialized mulch. Unfortunately, my zest usually leads to yellow leaves, root rot, or stinky soil. But for today, as I sit here sipping lemonade..looking down at my man hands..it was all worth it. (Well, until the deer jump my fence thinking they have found the neighborhood plant buffet) I did spray some horrible concoction on the leaves (it says it keeps deer away) ...but Lordy help me...it smells like a fine combo of old garlic and crap. I think it scared the neighbors more than the deer. I used to hang bars of Irish Spring on poles to keep the animals away...but when it rained my yard looked like a bubble bath. I resorted to human hair too. They say the smell keeps the animals away. But I don't think the children liked me chasing them with scissors. I'd like to think I'm a great gardener, but I'm not. I did have cute pink gardening gloves, (that I lost) a shiny trowel, (that the mower ran over), and a fine sun hat (that was mistaken for a UFO)...but that just doesn't cut it. While my neighbors baskets will flow with flowering beauty..mine will undoubtedly flow with scraggly bits of leaves..that turn out to be weeds. I really do try though. I've read that coffee grounds and eggshells help the soil...but instead they've just helped my dog to brunch and diarrhea. I have moles too! Fascinating creatures really. Have you ever chased and stabbed at a moving mound of dirt with a pitchfork? (Or worse miss and stab your toe?) It's quite entertaining exercise, but leaves the yard looking a bit like a dirt maze. I've heard about dish soap and cayenne pepper chasing the pesky critters away...but worse, urine. I bet if I paid my son enough (or got my husband drunk enough) they might pee in a few holes for me. Still, I have some hope for a bit of a better garden this year. The nice old man that sold me various poisons at Ace Hardware guaranteed it...and gave me free popcorn to boot. (I hope that isn't what's causing the rash on my hand...the poisons, not the popcorn) I did wear some sort of aged farmer gloves so I should have been protected...but then again those gloves have been sitting in an old cardboard box under the fire ant killer for over 3 years. Come to think of it... the last owners of the house left them there. (I hope this isn't that horrible flesh eating disease) Come to think of it my hands look worse than man hands. They look like blotchy, ugly, OLD man hands. Sorry..have to run. I'm off to lotion up and paint my stubby nail bits before I frighten my husband away...well, if I can find him out back...somewhere beyond the shrubs, behind the melon plants, across the stream, around the vines, and under the shade of the leafy, killer, pointed plants with no name.