Un dia mas.

My stomach is full of butterflies. We are scheduled (for the second time) to close tomorrow! We went to the house this weekend and painted the living room a happy shade of limey-avocado green. I've measured the closet for shelves, we've moved furniture around (so kindly left by the sellers). Yet, the home is not our own. It's still not ours!!! Can you feel my rising anxiety here?? If I stop to think too long, I get really scared. Can this all still fall apart?? Could they call tomorrow and say 'so sorry ms. cronk, we're unable to grant you a mortgage at this time.' COULD THAT HAPPEN?? Jen Payne, Miss Mortgage, please reassure me!
Most of the world probably thinks I'm a ninny. I know that people buy and sell houses all day every day. At the risk of sounding self-important, it really is different for us! I'm sure there are others out there like us...... millions maybe. You may know us by other names........ wanderers, vagabonds, gypsies. In our nine blissfully wedded years together, Eric and I have hauled our rear-ends (and those of our children) to new locales 12 times. Poor Liv has moved eight times in her five little years, and worse, Fran has moved five times in two point five years. Of those dozen abodes, we have owned exactly zero.

Since we left Aluts, Ok in July 1, 2008, my girls and I have hauled our suitcases to 11 different places and slept in 11 different beds. They have been unbelievable troopers. Such good girls. We've probably scarred them for life-- it builds character, right?

So. We want our house. Please send prayers and good thoughts our way. Cross your fingers. Knock on wood. Our last nine years have culminated into this next 24 hours. I know ya'll think I'm being a tad dramatic, but, really, this is what's knocking around my brain. It's pretty dramatic in there.