Moving Day Has Arrived!

This is it!  Today we get our moving truck and load it up with all our worldly possessions.  We'll spend one more night in our house, then tomorrow morning we head out for Pendleton.

I woke up at 6:30 this morning and hopped out of bed, ready to get to work.  Now let me just tell you, this never happens.  I do not wake up at 6:30 unless a child is crying or the bed is on fire.  Nor do I ever hop out of bed.  I drag myself out of bed, and it takes me a good twenty minutes before I'm ready to do anything productive.

So this morning has started well.  Peter is out right now with his dad, Jim, picking up the U-Haul.  They will stop by our storage unit here in Salem and load up all the stuff we have in there before heading back to the house.

Our moving sale on Saturday was a success in that we got rid of a bunch of stuff.  We didn't sell our couch, recliner, or entertainment center though, so we will just keep those for now.  The guy at the U-Haul office upgraded us to the next size up truck for free, so I think we'll have room for the extra furniture.

Several friends have promised to stop by today and help carry boxes and say goodbye to us.  We have four kinds of popsicles ready in our freezer to offer our guests.  I'm really hoping to get to see some more of the friends we have made in the last ten years here in the Willamette Valley.

I think that today will be a good day.  And at the end, our house will be empty, our truck will be full, our kids will be hyperactive, and we will be exhausted.

Things are Looking Up: Improvements on the Homefront

Peter and I were talking about my blog the other day.  He said he wasn't sure he wanted me to write about all the details of our hard situation in life right now.  I can understand why he feels like that.  I don't really want all my friends to know that we don't have any money or that we're moving in with our parents.  I want people to think that we're successful and that we can take care of ourselves.

But in a way, I'm really glad I have this blog as a record of the things I worry about.  Because later, after God has worked everything out in the best way possible (which may or may not look anything like the way I wanted to do it), I can see that my family and I are very, very well taken care of.

Take, for instance, my post about our challenges in selling our house.  Here is a picture I included of the first thing people see when they drive up to our house:

Garbage cans and crumbling cement.  Real classy.

But now, thanks to my studly husband Peter and his equally studly friend Micah, that area now looks like this:

What garbage cans?  I don't see any garbage cans, do you?

That's an example of a situation we improved ourselves, with help from a friend.  But here's an example of a situation that improved and we had absolutely no control over it:

Remember this eyesore?

Yep, the neighbor's yard.  The house that sits in front of our flag lot, the house that people have to drive past to even get a glimpse of our house.  The appearance of their yard was a huge problem for us.  Potential buyers who were interested in looking at our house were taking one look at their yard and driving right on down the road.  But one day, our neighbors came outside and did a ton of work, and now it looks like this:

Wowza!

Check it out!  Real grass!  Way to go, previously-lazy neighbors!

And now for the best thing of all:

Gone, baby, gone!

We sold our car!  And when it came right down to it, I wasn't sad to see it go at all.  Now we don't have a car loan payment to worry about, and we have plenty of money to cover our moving expenses.

Looking back, I can remember how worried I was about each of these situations.  And now I can see that I really had nothing to worry about at all.  God took care of it all, and He will always take care of us.

Even if I get nothing else out of this whole experience, I will at least remember that one thing for the rest of my life.

Things are Looking Up: the Housing Situation

I am happy to report that things have improved since my last post. 

No, we haven't sold our house, but we have found someone to live in it for us.  Some good friends of ours will be renting from us until the house sells.  I won't use their real names here, but shall refer to them as "Morty" and "Gigi."  I do this for several reasons: first of all, to protect their privacy; secondly, because I haven't asked them if I can tell everyone about their living situation; and thirdly, because I find those names hilarious.

This is not really Morty and Gigi.  I'm using a fake picture for them as well as fake names.

So we will be moving out in about ten days, and Morty and Gigi will be moving in.  This is a win-win situation for all parties.  It's great for me and Peter because we won't have to leave our house vacant-but-partially-furnished-so-it-doesn't-look-empty.  We will have someone to mow and water the lawn and take care of the house's appearance.  They will show the house to prospective buyers as the need arises.  And we'll get a little bit of income from their rent. 

This is a good deal for Morty and Gigi (snicker, snicker - those names just crack me up!) because they are expecting a baby in a few months, and our four-bedroom house will be some pretty nice digs for them and their tot, when he/she arrives.  And when we get an offer on the house, it will take a month or two to close the deal.  So Morty and Gigi will have plenty of time to find another place to live.

This is my kitchen.  Gigi will enjoy cooking meals in it, I'm sure.

And before any of you ask: yes, we trust them.  No, they won't mind keeping the house clean and showing it to prospective buyers.  No, they are not going to trash the place.  And yes, they're cool with not having a definite end date for this situation.

Having this arrangement in place has made me feel 4000% better about moving (and yes, I know that's not a real mathematical figure).

While we still own our house in Salem, we won't qualify for a loan to buy a house in Pendleton.  So we're going to rent.  But before we can rent, we need to have a little cash saved up (for deposits, first and last month's rent, and whatnot).  But we don't have any cash (see my previous post).  So for the first couple of months, we're moving in with Peter's parents, Jim and Peg.

That's right, you heard it.  We're moving in with our parents.

This is what evenings at home with Jim and Peg are like.  No joke.

Boy, are we going to shake up their world!  Lucky for them, it's only for a month or two.  And I think they're planning on taking lots of vacations while we're living there.  And probably buying earplugs.

Time to Let Go

I don't know why this has come as such a surprise for me, but we're broke.  Like, really really short on cash.  Peter just got done with school three weeks ago, and although he's been working his tail off in those three weeks (at both of his old jobs), we haven't seen those paychecks yet.  Our last financial aid check came many, many moons ago, and there are no more coming. 

How are we going to pay our bills?  Cripes!

Well, we do have a plan (of course we do, this is US we're talking about!).  We're selling my car.  My beloved, trustworthy, shiny, luxurious Subaru Outback.  The nicest car I have ever driven, let alone owned.  My four-wheeled baby.  We have to let her go.

She's so, so pretty.

We have another car, a far less sexy vehicle with much less leg room and a severe lack of cool factor.  It's a 1999 Ford Contour.  I consider it the overweight, middle-aged, menopausal woman of the car world.  But here's the Contour's biggest appeal: it's paid for.  And the Subaru ain't.

I consider my Ford Contour to be the Susan Boyle of the automotive world.  There's technically nothing wrong with it, but it still somehow leaves a lot to be desired.

So chalk this one up as one more sacrifice we're having to make in order to survive.  If we sell my gorgeous car, we get rid of over $4,000 of debt, relieve ourselves of a $200 monthly payment, and have enough left over to pay the mortgage this month (we don't have any other plan for paying the mortgage, by the way, so if you happen to know someone who wants to buy my car, please let me know ASAP).

Dave Ramsey would be so darn proud of us.

This is a time of uncertainty for us.  An up-in-the-air, nothing-is-for-sure, we'll-have-to-figure-it-out-as-we-go sort of a time.  A time of plan A, plan B, plans C through Q.  I feel like I'm walking around with a huge question mark hanging over my head.

I don't do well flying by the seat of my pants.  I don't like giving up my nice things because I can't afford the payments.  I get anxious when I don't feel like I know with certainty where I'll be living two years from now.  I like stability.  I like predictability.  I like knowing where the road I'm on is going to end up. 

I like being in control. 

There, I said it.

And now, seeing it written there on the page, I can see how ridiculous of a statement it is.  It's like saying, "I like being a platypus" or "I really enjoy having seven arms."  It's just not the case.  I'm not in control.  I never was.  I never will be.

Not that there's anything wrong with being a platypus, mind you.

So how can I cope during this time when even my most beloved illusion - the illusion of being in control - can't stand up to the reality I'm living in?

I think the only answer is to focus on the real truth: God is in control, He has my best interests in mind, and I just need to trust Him.  We will get through this, somehow, and six months from now I'm going to come back and read this blog post and laugh.  Not just at the Susan Boyle joke, but at myself and how worried I was.