Transitions

We're settling into the new house. We've put the furniture in place, unpacked most of the boxes, made the obligatory Ikea trip, and I baked my first muffins in the new kitchen. This weekend's goal is to organize and make it feel more like a home -- pictures on the walls, clothes in drawers (I got out the fall/winter clothes last weekend but had nowhere to put them. "Mommy, you should pick up your clothes so no one steps on them," noted K helpfully while standing on the pile of clothes),  rugs on the floors.

We can finally retrieve our rugs and wall art from the old house because as of very late Thursday night, we are officially under contract after weeks of contentious negotiations. I'll spare you the excruciating details of all the crap the buyers pulled except to say that (1) we learned not to trust any verbal agreement they made until it was in a signed writing and (2) our agent said that in her 26 years in real estate, they were tied for the worst buyers she's ever dealt with (tied with people who kept trying to take advantage of an old lady). Oh, also? After everything was signed, they wanted us to give them some of our furniture, our grill, and our lawnmower. They didn't even offer to buy these things. Say it with me: WTF? Anyway, I'm about 75% certain that we will close before Thanksgiving as planned, and I'm still a little stressed because the final P&S we negotiated had some last-minute provisions added that make me uncomfortable. I'm crossing my fingers that they get the mortgage quickly. If it doesn't work out we're sort of screwed. But with the constant barrage of bad economic news and the housing market in apparent free fall, we felt like we didn't have much of a choice.

Through all this, K has been a dream. So sweet and loving, so funny and playful, so smart and curious, and so beautiful that sometimes I marvel that he came out of me. Totally smooth adjustment to the new house, his new class at school, and the idea that he's going to be a big brother in the spring, with nary a hitch in the potty training. Sabbatical Mom's recent posts about P's tantrums, and how they've been clearing up lately, have reminded me of how our kids go through these phases that seem like they'll last forever, and then one day we look around and realize things have changed. I remember a period right around K's third birthday when he was driving me crazy and spending an entire day with him took concerted effort. I hope his current angelic phase lasts a good long time.