As most of you who read my blog know, I recently took Keenan to college. What I don’t talk about a lot is that he went to the east coast because he received a scholarship to play lacrosse. I always thought if I said something or put it in print, the universe would snatch it back. You know, like when they’re babies and you say, “OH MY GOD, little Johnny has slept through the night for the last three days!” And then little Johnny doesn’t sleep through the night again for two months.
Noah is also committed to play college lacrosse, but I won’t be talking about that until it’s solidified. Because, you know, see above.
With both of our older boys heading east, we decided, what the hell, let’s follow them. So when Noah heads out in 2015, so are we. Some of my most favorite moments in parenting were created through lacrosse, watching them play, seeing their hard work payoff, helping them get through the losses and the injuries and the conversations we had before and after the games. The bond it created between us is unbreakable. I don’t want to miss out on the last opportunity to share that with them.
We made the decision to put our house on the market assuming it would take a while to sell. After it sold, we would rent for the last remaining months and have one less thing to deal with as we packed up our belongings and headed out east we reasoned. And then? It sold in 48 hours.
Renting in San Diego with our size family meant about $5,000 per month. Over two years that meant $120,000. So, I sat my husband down to explain that we should buy a smaller home near the beach so we could rent it out while we were gone for four years. It would be a great investment and a great place to return.
“I don’t think we should rent for two years,” I said to my husband.
And then I saw something flash across his face that scared me worse than Jason coming through my front door piggy backing Freddy and before I could scream, “NOOOOOOOOOOO,” he said, “Let’s do another fixer upper.”
Images of our previous fixer upper flooded my brain. The kitage (definition: a hot plate and refrigerator in the garage). Washing baby bottles in a bathtub. Boarding up sheet board at night so we had “walls.” A screaming, collicky baby and the constant sound of power tools raging against any amount of sanity I was clinging to.
Then I looked at his sweet face. It was like Christmas morning had just arrived. His eyes were aglow, his smile so giant, his hands clapping like a jubilant three year old and I thought, “Here we go again.”
Log on each week for a new video and photos of the progress, to see how my marriage is surviving, if I have ended up in a straight jacket and how well my husband learns to duck the hammers I throw across the room. This is gonna get interesting.
Want to see our first two remodels and the photos of the new house? Our Last Two Fixers and Introduction to the Holly House