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Showing posts from July, 2015

The windows shattered

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The house is ready. It was ready at exactly 2:29 yesterday. I texted Husband and said, "The house is (almost) ready. Huge sigh of relief." I invited a friend and her daughters over for the afternoon, as renovations are noisy and her kids were sick of hearing the nail gun.

We sat and chatted in the kitchen as I unloaded the dishwasher. It was a quiet day, a nice and lovely moment in time-- a homemaker enjoying the company of another and the kids doing the same. Susie the realtor came by to inspect the house.

We were ready.

Sans Leenie's room- the girls were quarantined within her purple walls accompanied by only the toys that they could reach. And they could reach a lot of toys. Apparently... Little Miss Leenie, who has been getting paid 25 cents a day to clean her room, has been stuffing them under her bed.

Child labor is not what it used to be.

And, yes, I do pay her exactly twenty five cents. No judgement.

Her room was a disaster, but they were enjoying the process of …

a little Q and A

Hold the phone. You're selling?
Yes.

Surely you have another house in mind. Where did you find one?
We actually don't have a house yet. We have been looking, but nothing jumps out.

Where are you looking?
We want to stay in the Forrest Hills area. Specifically, we want to be in Murray Hills/Westwick. Yeah, we looked at the houses on the market already. Meh. Know of anyone thinking about selling? Shoot me a message!

How much are you listing the house for?
There are four things you should never talk about: sex, politics, religion, and finances. That being said- we are listing the house for $469,900. I always love it when people put the $900 on the end of the listing price.

Okay, $469,900- where'd you get that?
Based on the square footage and looking at reasonable comps in the area-- reasonable meaning that we did not include the newly built Jimmy Garren home that sits beside us or some of the other new construction on Donald Ave in our excel sheet-- based on the footage of the ho…

Bear with me.

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I have cute kids. I know this. It's one of many flaws-- that I know my kids are cute. It's okay though, because when they are this cute, it is hard to deny this fact. A few years ago, I took some pictures of Leenie when she was in ballet class with Miss Heidi in Washington DC. She adored ballet and adored Miss Heidi. I adored that she adored her slippers, tights, and leotard. I adored watching her be so happy dancing.




Recently, she has not found dancing to be something that makes her happy. She dreaded going to ballet, got easily sidetracked with anything else and told me that one of the girls in her class was mean. (I could understand it- I met the mom and she's a 'dance mom'... if you know what I mean) Hoping to reinvigorate her love for leather slippers, I enrolled her at the local ballet company's Nutcracker Dance Camp. For two and a half hours every afternoon, she danced with 14 other girls in 14 pair of pink tights and 14 black leotards. 15 girls had thei…