Home wanted ...

I've decided that trying to find a house in a slow market is like being past your due date.

You're sick of waiting, you're uncomfortable, you're desperate to meet the important new thing in your life, everyone keeps asking how things are going, you think you're going to go crazy but you're powerless to make.anything.happen.

At least you don't have to go pee all night long and if you drop something, you have a hope of picking it up again.

Nothing is new here. There are no new listings. There are no private sales. Anyone who would normally think of selling their house is either 1) waiting for spring, or 2) waiting for the market to pick up a lot more.

Both of those things concern me. Because neither of them are going to happen in the next two months.

We can't live like this indefinitely. Did I mention we're sharing a room with Nate? And I'm starting to miss our things (why didn't I pack headphones?!!), although we finally got into our storage unit this weekend and got a fresh toy infusion.

Having said that, our temp living arrangements are probably best-case scenario. We've descended like a tornado on the poor in-laws who are used to peace and quiet and but seem unfazed and indefatigable.

They are getting a lot of grand-kid time ... which will teach them a lesson.

I just don't know what to do next. I keep joking about it but now I think I'm actually going to start knocking on doors. Take matters into my own hands, you know? Ask people if they know anyone in our target area who's thinking of selling. It could make the difference between finding a place now vs waiting until spring (aggghh!).

Sounds good but not sure if I have the guts. It's either that or more waiting, though, which I'm even worse at.

In someone else's house, you can't exactly do your normal stuff. I've decided the problem is:

I have nothing to do but no time to do nothing.

In kid news, not much to report. Nathan likes practicing climbing stairs by holding the railing, then gives us all heart attacks by steeping off top steps into thin air. Today he cleared the stairs but then smashed headlong into a wooden bench.

He actually got two bruises from one fall. He's an over-achiever.

He's not as tough as I thought, though. He was playing with some kids his own age this weekend and kept being schooled in the lesson that other kids often like to take YOUR toys, not always the other way round. He's been spoiled by his wimpy sister.

Mela and I, in true city-slicker fashion, were sick AGAIN this weekend. It's like we can't handle this much fresh air. Not sure the real reason, although the change in routine probably underlies it all.

Today she was jabbering on about something and then said, "Mela lost. Mela no home. Where home?"

I try not to read too much into stuff like that but really, I do think she picks up on a lot. Like us talking about how we have no home.

The waiting continues ...

Say click:

Random haunted house next to the library. Mary, note the sub-heading.
We thought Nate was just digging in the compost for food (hungry again!) but then he pulled out a toy person, so who was the smart one then?
Cole Harbour kids (Mela, Glendon, Leia, Nate - who was crying because he had his hair pulled, and Sophia):
Sick again, Mela only agrees to leave the house if she can take FOUR dogs, big and small:
Cutting the cake for the birthday girl, while bundled up friends look on:
Then the cake came out ... and the problems started. Someone has problems with cake-limits, especially around nap time:
All forgiven, the kids play together on the ride home:
Mela proclaims Nathan, "Too heavy" to pick up. Tell me about it!