Finally, Some Clarity

WARNING: LONG-ASS POST AHEAD... PROCEED WITH CAUTION (AND CAFFEINE)

First of all, thanks to everyone for your comments and well wishes in response to my last three posts.

It is Sunday night. More than 48 hours have passed since we got the latest bit of bad news on the real estate front and we FINALLY have some clarity.

So, since I know all of your weekends have also been put on hold because of the drama that is my real estate transaction (remove tongue from cheek), here's the deal:

The attornies involved in the sale of our condo, for whatever reason, have had horrible communication with each other, and, as a result, us. So, on Friday, at almost 4:00, as I was literally getting ready to head out the door to pick up Spike and The Boy from their respective caregivers, imagine my delight when our attorney called to say he had just received a fax stating that our buyers needed yet another financing extension. This time to May 29. May 29? That sounds familiar. Oh yeah... THAT'S OUR NEW CLOSING DATE.

No explanation. No phone call. Just a fax. And their attorney was not taking calls. This is the third time he has pulled a stunt like this -- waiting until the end of the day on Friday to ask for an extension. What would you think if you were us? They're trying to hide something. They're trying to screw us over. You would be this upset and want to ask all of these questions, wouldn't you? But you wouldn't be able to, because it is the Friday afternoon before THREE-DAY WEEKEND.

As you may have gathered, I was a complete wreck on Friday. I left the house and went to pick up Spike first. I was not terribly sad that he was leaving his babysitter, but I still wanted to be able to show her my appreciation for all the care she has given him. Hard to do, however, when you cannot keep yourself together, when you're trying with everything you have to keep from completely breaking down. The whole 10-minute drive to her house, I willed myself to not cry, to save it until I got home. But as soon as I walked into her home and saw Spike, I started to tear up. My boys just turn me into Jell-o and to think that I wouldn't be able to give them the home and the life that I had perfectly planned out for them was just too much. So, there I stood, like a complete moron, with tears running down my face, wiping snot from my nose, as I casually gathered up all his things and thanked her for taking such good care of him. I felt like such a heel. Like I couldn't compose myself long enough to look her in the eyes and give her the thanks I sincerely wanted to give her.

But that was nothing compared to the debaucle at The Boy's school. Pulling him from that school has been one of the hardest parts of this whole process, because he has just flourished there; and everyone, from the director to the teachers to the students, have become like an extension of our family. I knew I would be emotional on his last day there, but that doesn't even begin to describe my state of mind.

As soon as I walked into The Boy's classroom and saw the 10-foot banner they had made for him, the waterworks started. Then The Boy saw me, and came running toward me, as usual, completely oblivious as to what was going on. You see, I had opted not to tell him that would be his last day at his school because he has been hypersensitive lately, and I was afraid he'd freak out. And since he was going to be going to Grandma's house next (this) week, which isn't out of the ordinary for him, there was no need to draw attention to something potentially traumatic.

He ran to me, with his arms wide open, and I could tell nothing that anybody had said or done that day had registered with him as out of the ordinary. Except, of course, the fact that his mother was bawling her eyes out in the middle of his classroom. I had crouched down to his level and when he noticed my tears he said, "Mommy, what's a matter with your face?" This, of course, made his teachers, who up until this time were adding personal messages to the banner, look toward us. They may have thought I was just upset about his last day, except that I was on the verge of hyperventilating. And that's not normal. They came to me asking what was wrong, and I answered The Boy's question. I said, "Mommy's upset because she got some bad news before she came to pick you up," which everyone understood to be about the move. Because Friday was not supposed to be his last day of school, but I had to extend his stay by a week to accomodate the first delay.

I was so upset about the news we had just received that I couldn't even express to his teachers how grateful I was for everything they had done for him and for our family. When he turned around and smiled at the class, and one of the teachers said, "I'm going to miss that smile sooooo much,"(because, seriously, he has the best smile ever) then picked him up and hugged him, that just sent me over the edge. I tried to hold a conversation with them. To say a proper thanks, but all I really wanted to do was grab both of my boys and take them home, so I could break down in private....

Which you are obviously well aware of, if you've been paying attention at all over the past three days.

The rest of Friday basically consisted of me crying. Crying. Crying. Crying. Blah. Blah. Blah.

Saturday morning I was a little better, because in addition to the blog post, I had written a draft email to send to our buyers. Up until this point, we had left all communications relating to the deal to the "professionals," but considering how well that has gone (cough, cough), and the fact that our lawyers would be taking the three-day weekend off, thankyouverymuch, I didn't see any other option for us to get the real story. Our real estate agents have worked well together, but even there we only get bits of pieces of information.

I wrote an email (which became this post), but when I broached the idea with Hubbz, he was reluctant to go through "back channels." After I explained to him my desperate need for information -- any information -- he finally agreed, but he would have to rewrite the email to take the emotion out of it, because we didn't want to risk pissing them off. And I totally get that because I know how easily emails can be misconstrued, so to answer your question EDW, this is what we actually said:

Punk-Ass Punks,

We know that typically we would go through our lawyers for this type of
information. However, we did not get the extension request until close to
5pm yesterday, when it was too late to ask questions.

We absolutely want this deal to happen, though an extension of the
financing contingency puts us in a real bind. We already took our kids out
of their city schools, and have them registered in suburban schools. Also,
in order to facilitate transfer of the property to you this Thursday, we
arranged for movers to come Tuesday and Wednesday. Finally, Hubbz is
scheduled to be on the road Tuesday and Wednesday, making it critical that we
know we need to pack this weekend, as he cannot do it during the
week.

So, we simply are asking for an update on the financing so we can
prepare ourselves for the week. Did Daddy Warbucks' bank need more time to
process the loan and everything is on schedule? Are you pursuing another
financing product, or lending institution? What are the odds that your
financing will be complete by Thursday? Again, we ask because we need to
prepare ourselves for next week (getting our kids back into their schools, if
possible, Hubbz's travel schedule, packing, etc.) Thanks for your
consideration and any update you can provide.

Regards, Hubbz and CDJ

And then we waited. And we also called our real estate agent to see if he could find anything out from their agent. We got a glimmer of good news out of that, as he called us back Saturday morning to tell us that yes, they were still serious about making the deal happen, but that everything was in the hands of Daddy Warbucks' bank, so all we could do was wait. He said their agent told him there was a chance we could still close by Thursday, but things were out of our -- and their -- hands. And even though this was not necessarily good news, it was news. And that's all I needed. Information. Of any kind. Explanation. Even an incomplete one. We felt much better.

So, we shipped the boys off to the IL's for the day/night and proceeded to pack. We also had lunch out, took a nap and had an amazing dinner out... like before we had kids. And it was a great day. We slept in until 8:30!! this morning, then went out for breakfast at our favorite joint, got some more packing done and grabbed a sandwich from Jimmy John's before we both agreed that we hated packing, could not do any more of it today and should just head out to the ILs early so we can see our boys. (The Boy, we learned, had been asking about me and wanted to go home to his mommy most of the time he was with them, which initially told me he was bored, but later I came to realize he was probably just worried about me because of my complete break down on Friday. He's a sensitive, like his father, and aunt, and paternal grandfather... which can be sweet, but doesn't bode well for the teenage years... but I digress).

So, we headed out to the burbs, in horrible traffic, which made me cranky, but then I went shopping when we arrived at the ILs' house and they weren't back from their outing with the boys yet. I bought things for Hubbz and I to wear in Mexico, because did I mention that we've had a trip to Mexico planned for 6 months or so. Which Hubbz won through his company. For being a kickass salesman last year. Which is the first one he's ever won because the companies he worked for before this one totally screwed him over? Yeah... remember that... it comes up again later.

I arrived home with my Gap bags (including this dress... how cute will I be at a beach-front dinner wearing that!?) and saw Hubbz carrying The Boy up for a nap (at almost 3:00, but I bit my tongue). I gave him a hug and got a few details of his day, including a proud display of his Power Ranger sword tattoo. We had a nice relaxing afternoon, enjoying one of the first nice days of May, chatting, lounging and playing with Spike while The Boy slept off his crazy, wild day at the horse track (no really, it was a good thing, I promise).

We shared a Chinese dinner with the ILs, then headed home -- traffic much better this time -- to find a return email from the punk-ass punks. My first thought -- FINALLY!! -- was quickly replaced with a sigh of relief. Because finally we are getting some real information. The financing is going to come through, but they wont' be able to sign the loan papers until Wednesday or Thursday. Then there is a three-day waiting period before they can get the funds, so we're looking at a closing date of June 2, June 4 at the latest.

And, yeah that sucks, but AT LEAST WE KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON! We also got a sob story about stress and stuff in storage and blah blah blah, cry me a river, PUNKS! But everything just makes sense now. And we have real, complete information to work with.

So, the bottom line is:

• We aren't moving this week, but definitely next week. Yeay!!
• The boys are still going to my mom's because the house is 3/4 packed up, and in no condition for them. Plus, no childcare. Ack!
• We aren't going to Mexico. We could, technically, sign over power of attorney to our attorney, but I just can't not be here for the conclusion of all of this. I can't be out of the country we when finally close on our brand new grown-up house, and apparently Hubbz can't go out the country without me. So, yeah, that sucks, but if that's all we have to give up, as opposed to killing the deal and losing my dream house -- which is seriously what I thought was going to happen -- it's not all bad. I'll just have to figure out another way to reward Hubbz -- dirty mind! not like that!!
• We have not shared any of this with the woman from whom we're buying our new house, but I know she needs/wants this deal to go through as much as we do. And there's nothing we can do about it, so hopefully she'll be fine with the delay (Please don't hate us too much!!)

Thanks again for all your support and good thoughts you send out way. Oh yeah, and for any bad juju you might have sent toward the punk-ass punks. I'm not saying I still don't think they deserve it. I've just softened to them a tiny little bit. And for the first time in weeks I'm breathing a sigh of relief, and that? That's something.

Phew.