I’ve not written in far too long, but there was a thought process involved in the absence. Our house went on the market in July. It has been an ordeal to keep it show-ready and free of thick disillusionment as we’ve been battered by a dead market and insulting offers.

Toys, clothes and dishes have all been kept in their places. We’ve made our beds, wiped down the shower and hidden any semblance of a personality. The girls have been stoic as box after box of things have been shuttled to dark corners of the attic. Trips to a storage unit, walk-thrus of other houses, not to mention the innumerable showings of our house have led to Briar say things like, “Mom, can we go and live in a hotel for 100 days? And then can we just eat at restaurants and that way every night there won’t be dishes and some can make the beds for you.” My little worrier, be still my heart.

Emails from friends and BlogHer have me all too aware of how long it’s been since I’ve written. So here I am.

I never thought it would happen. We’ve worked so hard, dreamed for so long…

Our house has sold.

They are lovely people. It is everything we could have hoped for and more.

They want to close on January 29th.

Grandma and Papa arrive on January 28th.

We have decided to rent for 6 months.

We have yet to secure that place to rent.

Work is insane.

The girls are magnificent. Everything is perfectly on track, yet feels perilously close to out of control.

Looking at a place at 1. If you’d do me a favor, cross your fingers that it works.