Waiting to Exhale
I have to start by confessing that I’ve never seen the movie, so this isn’t – as far as I know – about anything in there.
You know how when you’re getting dressed up for a party, or trying on new jeans, or trying to impress someone, or trying to convince yourself that you really have lost weight and that the working out and not eating cookies has been worth it, you suck in your gut and look in the mirror – sideways? You’re trying to look your best, and while it may not be natural, you’ll put up with it short term for the emotional boost you get from how you look. Well, selling a house is kind of like that.
Our house is staged. We’ve put our house on the market, and we’ve taken at least four vanloads of stuff to my in-laws’ basement (bless their hearts for letting us do that!). We’ve de-cluttered, purged, scrubbed, replaced, repaired, sold, tossed, donated, and stuck in the garage waiting to leave. I’ve created a staging checklist, a room-by-room list of little things to do before leaving the house with the kids and the dog before someone comes to see the house. The list should take no more than ten minutes to complete, so in the meantime, all the dishes are kept in their place, laundry is either being done or put away right away, toys are put away after they are done being played with, the dining table is cleared and clean immediately after every meal, and my desk remains clear. In other words, the house is clean. My hope is that selling the house takes just long enough for me to pick up some good habits. I’d like to think I’m already there, our house having been on the market for almost two weeks now, but maybe it’s meant to last until the whole family learns. Then again, I’d like to actually move.
For three days now, nobody has seen the house. We managed to go through about six loads of laundry, all of which were promptly folded and put away, a real rarity in this house. I’ve played baseball with the boys in the front yard, we’ve gone on long walks, and we’ve eaten simple meals that produce no strong, offensive odors. After the boys’ baths, the tub is cleaned and rinsed. Coats are hung up immediately. Mail is dealt with immediately, no large pile accumulating on the dining table (okay, right now there are a few catalogs, but I’ll toss those this evening). Since the drying rack is in the basement, even the plasticware is put away immediately when emptying the dishwasher, not set to dry completely (and procrastinate).
So again tonight, we have to be out of the house again, so we’re in cleaning mode, because we did let our guts pooch out a bit the last few days. But regardless of how much we relax, we’re still in our corset and high heels, and even if we lounge on the couch on a Friday night watching television, we won’t be back in our comfy sweats until we see the SOLD sign in front of our house.
You know how when you’re getting dressed up for a party, or trying on new jeans, or trying to impress someone, or trying to convince yourself that you really have lost weight and that the working out and not eating cookies has been worth it, you suck in your gut and look in the mirror – sideways? You’re trying to look your best, and while it may not be natural, you’ll put up with it short term for the emotional boost you get from how you look. Well, selling a house is kind of like that.
Our house is staged. We’ve put our house on the market, and we’ve taken at least four vanloads of stuff to my in-laws’ basement (bless their hearts for letting us do that!). We’ve de-cluttered, purged, scrubbed, replaced, repaired, sold, tossed, donated, and stuck in the garage waiting to leave. I’ve created a staging checklist, a room-by-room list of little things to do before leaving the house with the kids and the dog before someone comes to see the house. The list should take no more than ten minutes to complete, so in the meantime, all the dishes are kept in their place, laundry is either being done or put away right away, toys are put away after they are done being played with, the dining table is cleared and clean immediately after every meal, and my desk remains clear. In other words, the house is clean. My hope is that selling the house takes just long enough for me to pick up some good habits. I’d like to think I’m already there, our house having been on the market for almost two weeks now, but maybe it’s meant to last until the whole family learns. Then again, I’d like to actually move.
For three days now, nobody has seen the house. We managed to go through about six loads of laundry, all of which were promptly folded and put away, a real rarity in this house. I’ve played baseball with the boys in the front yard, we’ve gone on long walks, and we’ve eaten simple meals that produce no strong, offensive odors. After the boys’ baths, the tub is cleaned and rinsed. Coats are hung up immediately. Mail is dealt with immediately, no large pile accumulating on the dining table (okay, right now there are a few catalogs, but I’ll toss those this evening). Since the drying rack is in the basement, even the plasticware is put away immediately when emptying the dishwasher, not set to dry completely (and procrastinate).
So again tonight, we have to be out of the house again, so we’re in cleaning mode, because we did let our guts pooch out a bit the last few days. But regardless of how much we relax, we’re still in our corset and high heels, and even if we lounge on the couch on a Friday night watching television, we won’t be back in our comfy sweats until we see the SOLD sign in front of our house.
posted by BrainHickey | 12:00 PM
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