We have had eight showings of the house since we listed it two weeks ago. Not bad, I am told by my agent and others. But I can’t help but still be down in the dumps about this whole process. It is a time killer and emotionally taxing. We spent hours and hours getting the house to a point where it did not look like we had children – all of their toys and our extra “stuff” is shoved in corners and closets and in the attic and basement and garage. Nearly every night, Jon or I are scolding the kids to pick up their toys and not drop a crumb on the floor. Last night, I chastised Maria about getting toothpaste in the sink (I got the “Really, mom, really?” response which immediately made me laugh and see the ridiculousness of it all).
And, I never dreamed that I would take the rejection so personal. When we got the buyer’s reasons for declining the house, one reason was that it was “underwhelming” to them. My first thought “take this “underwhelming” fist and shove it…” My blood pressure shot up and has remained in the “Above” range for the last two weeks as I continue to be inundated with rejections. Jon and I should have known it would be this way because too many people told us that we would sell this place immediately: “You will have no problem selling your house – its in a great location; great curb appeal….” Complete jinx. Granted, it has only been listed for two weeks, but it feels like two years.
Last weekend, we had a couple walk through for the second time. We got the house completely scrubbed down, flowers everywhere, window sills sparkling. They called our realtor within 15 minutes and told him they were going to put in an offer. By 5 pm, we had it. $30,000 lower than our asking price with a ton of contingencies. Still, we kept hope alive and gave them a reasonable counteroffer back. They never responded. Finally, their realtor called ours and told him they weren’t interested any longer because we were too far apart monetarily. Whatever – my irritation and frustration have been mellowed by sheer exhaustion from cleaning the house, loading up Cy to take to my parents’ apartment, and stuffing things away in closets.
Maria keeps reassuring me that we will sell the house and if we don’t, it’s ok. She and Mario can live in this house and Jon and I can live in the other for a while. “I know how to clean, mom. And I help you cook pancakes all the time. Mario and I will be fine.” If they had the mortgage money, she would have the keys.