this is killing me

so I am just going to tell you. Your guesses are much better scenarios than the one we are currently in (especially yours Kim). I would much rather be having a spontaneous baby in the next 4 months (you didn't know I was even pregnant, did you? ha ha- I'm not). Even having crazy landlords would be good. And no great, new job. No, we found papers taped to our door Saturday morning, this house is being foreclosed upon (if that's even the right terminology).

I think I am going through those 4 stages of . . . . whatever they call it. Denial, anger, depression . . . acceptance. But I go through those in like 30 minutes, over and over. I giggled hysterically as Stephen read aloud things like "auction on the steps of the courthouse" and "60 days to vacate the premises after the house is sold" as we ate our pancakes. This stuff seemed like it belonged on TV and not in my life, and I found it surreal and utterly funny. Then the hysterical giggles turned into crying when I thought about moving AGAIN. Possibly leaving Magnolia and a lot of our friends, uprooting the kids, not going to Disneyland . . .
Here's the dirt: if we are moving again, it should probably be into a house. Where we can stay. For AWHILE. Like, OUR house. BUYING a house. Which means an expensive trip to Disneyland is probably not the smartest move right now when we'll need the money for house, and another move. I say it like that out loud too. I'm trying to make it sink in.

So, what does the owner of the house say, you might wonder? Stephen got a hold of her Saturday evening. I did my best to not be in the room with him. They had a much too jovial "heart to heart" about what was going on and what our options were. We have a long standing family joke that may shock a few of you (consider yourself warned), but it goes like this: "don't send a MAN to do a BITCH'S job". That just means some of us Hambelton girls don't always approve of the nice ways our husbands deal with people who we feel are treating us unfairly (and comes from an incident with a landlord, actually). Apparently, she has an adjustable rate mortgage and has been trying to refinance the last few months while she also tried selling the house. She thought she had a refinance deal all sewn up when she decided to rent it and then it fell through. She is still trying to save the house, but we are not counting on anything. We technically have a 4 month lease (coincidence that April is when it goes to auction?), but it was always verbally month to month and she confirmed that with Stephen. If we find the right place, we are moving out of here. I don't even know how to feel about this place anymore. Part of me wants to hang on here as long as possible since a mortgage will be like double what we are paying here and part of me wants out of here ASAP.

Can I claim a little woman's intuition "I KNEW IT!!" right now? The decision to move here seemed to fall into place like dominos, "clink, clink, clink". We beat out the other interested parties, our landlord let us out of our lease, the move of 2 blocks was amazingly smooth. So you would think that I would feel all warm and fuzzy about it, right? No, the day after we decided to move, I started feeling HORRIBLE. I kept chalking it up to the nervousness of moving our stuff over the holiday and asking our friends for help again, but I think now it was more than that. The night we moved in, I still felt bad. If I had really listened, maybe I would have backed out, I don't know if that would have even been possible, but here's to wishful thinking . . . . . . . do you think I can get her to pay for these blasted area rugs?