And Speaking of Moving...

So last night I had to follow Mr. T while he dropped off his car for winter maintenance. We had just left parent-teacher conferences and Son is doing wonderfully. Apparently he is still Mr. Popular. "When he has to go to the bathroom, EVERYBODY has to go to the bathroom," his teacher laughed. He reads to the class; he writes well; he finishes his math work first and it's right so she lets him play math games to give him so extra learning opportunities. "He seems to be really good with math. Does he do any extra work at home?"

Of course! I want to say. I drill it into him that school is important and that he should always go the extra mile and I make sure he does the extra credit EVERY time and I'm an all-around pain about making my kids try things on their own and THINK about why they are doing what they are doing. I'm a little bit of a pest. I want to say all that but I only share that when we go to the grocery store, I have Son total my groceries as we go.

"Lunchmeat. $6. Tuna. $5. Son, add 6 plus 5."
"11?"
"Good answer! Juice. 2 for $3. Son, 11 plus 3?"

I'm a busy mommy but I'm trying to maximize the opportunities ya'll.

Anyhoo! (After this major sidetracking because I am a proud mommy after all) Mr. T. asks me last night how much money I have saved. I tell him after all the car troubles I had this year, not as much as I hoped. Why? He wants to put a bid on the dollhouse. We call it that because he is 6' 3" and in just about every new house we saw, things could be a bit tight for him but what ya gonna do? Shrink him? (Thus my picture. Clearly not the actual house we saw. The real picture will come IF we get it.) We saw the house last month and Daughter christened the driveway with her blood when she was running after her brother and fell on her face - my poor baby. Mind you, this was the first house I kinda liked although the school shuffle is going to be a chore in the mornings since it's a Bridgeport house and my son is in school in Stratford, one town north, and I'd then have to turn around and drop off Daughter to preschool in Bridgeport then continue south to work. But I DON'T CARE!

So he tells me he wants to put a bid on it. I already had this house out of my head so I'm trying to remember some of it's nuances on the inside. I just remember I loved the outside and that it's a dead-end street and we're last. Oh yes, it's a brand-new house too, which as you know we've been looking for.

So we re-prequalified with a new mortgage lender who could give us a better rate for a lower amount and apparently the bid goes out today.

Cross everything you can. Mommy's back is starting to hurt from sleeping with a giant and wriggler in a queen-sized bed.

UPDATE: Apparently there is a bid already on the house. Mr. T. talks with the builder from time to time and the builder told him that the other guy has to see if his loan will come through. Apparently they - the builder and real estate agent - think he's shakey. Bully for us - not. How long MIGHT this whole thing take before we find out if the competition is out of the picture? A MONTH. Great day. A month to look into his records? Honestly. Can someone send me back in time to yesterday afternoon before Mr. T. told me he wanted to bid on this house and somehow take me out of the picture until this guy's loan does or does not come through THEN tell me if our bid is accepted or not? I hate this crap. Whoever devised the real estate game was a sadist.