Side note number 1: I got a new laptop so I will be blogging a lot more!!!
Side note number 2 (this one will be a bit longer): What a difference a few days makes. Yesterday I texted my hot yoga guy to see if he can do weekly yoga sessions. I'm getting a raise and decided that I want to put some of the extra money towards my health. I did seriously question whether I'd feel silly a year from now when this infatuation wears off for spending more money on yoga, wondering if I'm spending money for the yoga or for the male attention. But I came to the conclusion that it's mostly the yoga. Since I began working with him privately, I've become markedly stronger and I'm seeing major changes in my body. When I texted him, I told him that I completely understand if he doesn't have time because he's teaching classes twice a week and takes instructor classes regularly. And, to no surprise, he said that he doesn't have time. I texted a girlfriend this morning saying that it was the final nail in the coffin of hope that he had some interest in me beyond yoga, that maybe he didn't have a girlfriend anymore. But weirdly, I wasn't upset, and so I knew that the feelings I'd been having were not serious feelings. This morning when he came over for yoga, I felt totally different and it was so much nicer. I felt relaxed. I wasn't wondering what he was thinking the entire time. It was really nice! I must admit, I did have a moment of weakness when he was helping me get into a pose and I was pressing my foot into his six pack abs. But it was momentary.
And now I'll get to the point of this post.
There is an insane dichotomy or even trichotomy (did I just make up a word) of what I think that I want in a man. And it's based in the fact that there are so many aspects of my personality that are so completely different.
There's the side of me who buys organic and doesn't like to have any plastic in the house and diffuses essential oils and eats clean and does yoga.
Then there's the side of me who likes to wear skirts and dresses and high heels and go to fancy dinners and have nice things and feel like a girly girl.
And there's the side of me who likes to lounge around in casual clothes and not do my make up or wash my hair all weekend and eat cheeseburgers and fries and drink beer and Jameson on the rocks and hang with the guys.
There's another side of me who knows that I need a man who is stronger than me, a man who can let me have the reigns (or at least feel that way) the majority of the time but can take the reigns from me, with force, when necessary.
I guess that's even more than a trichotomy. It's very strange to me that all of these different sides of my personality manage to coexist. And it baffles me to think that there might be another human out there that would be compatible with all of these different aspects of my personality. But I guess that the good news is that I'm much more aware of my own personality than I was ten years ago when I met MSTBE. (Wow, I just realized that it really has been almost ten years. That's a strange thought.)
I think that not knowing ourselves is what got MSTBE and myself into a relationship that couldn't possibly have worked. We didn't know ourselves and definitely didn't know what we each needed in a partner. And so I move forward on this journey that is my life, learning about myself, learning to be a better Mom and friend, and possibly eventually learning to be a better partner to someone.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Monday, May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 ~ Am I Blinded by the Dream or Was I Just Jaded Back Then?
Some of you may have read my post on my facebook page last night:
"I don't know what's going on with me lately. Every time I see a couple, on TV, on facebook, in life, my heart hurts. Sometimes I cry. My head and my heart are at odds. My head knows that I don't have time to even think about dating. My head knows that I have more important things in my life right now. My head knows that I'm happier with my life now than probably any other time. Apparently my heart didn't get the memo."
Let me first give you a bit of background into why I've been feeling this way. About 13 months ago, my kids started spending nights at MSTBE's house and I had a freedom that I hadn't experienced in four years. I joined a running group (previously mentioned in this post). I started doing yoga again. I was able to cook delicious meals for myself and actually sit down to enjoy them. I felt like I had the best of both worlds: I was a happy Mom when I had my kids because I had the time to do things for myself when they were at their Dad's. They went to his house on Mondays and Wednesdays, which brought a male yoga instructor into my life. When I was searching the class schedule at my yoga studio I was initially disappointed to have a male instructor because I'd never had one but his class was the only one that fit into my schedule. I ended up enjoying his class. I saw him as attractive but I wasn't attracted to him at all when I began attending; he's not "my type" because he has long hair and is barely as tall as me. Slowly as I attended his class more often, I got to know him and the attraction sparked. About six months into my experience with him he started taking more instructor classes and began doing adjustments to our poses in class. I remember texting a girlfriend after the first time he adjusted me. I had a tank top on and he touched my shoulders, skin to skin. I told my friend that his hands were like butter and satin and strength all wrapped together somehow.
About three months ago the schedule with my kids changed drastically (as discussed in this post) and I wasn't able to get into the yoga studio nearly as much. I spoke with my instructor outside of class and asked if he ever did private lessons. For the past two months, he's been coming over to my house in the evening 2-3 times per month to help me continue and advance my practice. There's something about yoga that opens up more than just the muscles and joints in my body, it opens up my heart and makes me feel vulnerable. And being able to trust a man when I feel vulnerable is not something that I'm used to. But I trust him. Here's the kicker: he has a girlfriend. And I think about him far more often than I should be thinking about someone who has a girlfriend.
When I think logically about the situation, I know that even if he didn't have a girlfriend, we shouldn't take things any further than practicing yoga together. It wouldn't be fair to him if he's interested in settling down and having kids. And I enjoy doing yoga with him so much that I don't want to complicate that part of it. And what if he's a bad kisser? Or vegan? Or any number of things that would make us a bad fit?
As I drove to work this morning, I began reflecting on my facebook post last night. I had slept, I wasn't feeling emotional, and I felt like I could think more clearly about the way that I was feeling last night. I asked myself the question, "Am I blinded by the dream or was I just jaded back then?"
About three months ago the schedule with my kids changed drastically (as discussed in this post) and I wasn't able to get into the yoga studio nearly as much. I spoke with my instructor outside of class and asked if he ever did private lessons. For the past two months, he's been coming over to my house in the evening 2-3 times per month to help me continue and advance my practice. There's something about yoga that opens up more than just the muscles and joints in my body, it opens up my heart and makes me feel vulnerable. And being able to trust a man when I feel vulnerable is not something that I'm used to. But I trust him. Here's the kicker: he has a girlfriend. And I think about him far more often than I should be thinking about someone who has a girlfriend.
When I think logically about the situation, I know that even if he didn't have a girlfriend, we shouldn't take things any further than practicing yoga together. It wouldn't be fair to him if he's interested in settling down and having kids. And I enjoy doing yoga with him so much that I don't want to complicate that part of it. And what if he's a bad kisser? Or vegan? Or any number of things that would make us a bad fit?
As I drove to work this morning, I began reflecting on my facebook post last night. I had slept, I wasn't feeling emotional, and I felt like I could think more clearly about the way that I was feeling last night. I asked myself the question, "Am I blinded by the dream or was I just jaded back then?"
When my marriage initially fell apart, I began looking at the marriages around me. I started to ask myself if I would want to be the wife in any of those marriages. For the most part, the answer was no. Let me explain. My perception is that no relationship is perfect but many of them work on some level; overall they make my friends and family happy. But after my divorce, I have been happier than I've ever been in my life. The idea of being in a relationship that could possibly make me less happy even some of the time just hasn't been attractive even though I know that many relationships make my friends and family more happy much of the time.
Until recently, I've felt very strong in this stance and haven't wavered at all. Friends would tell me that they know that there's somebody out there for me and I would internally laugh. "I don't need somebody, I'm good," I would think. And I really was and I still am, which is why I'm perplexed. I bought a house and moved about six weeks ago. I've been able to get back to practicing yoga regularly after a month of not being able to. I'm eating (mostly) healthfully. I just feel good! So why this sudden emotional response to seeing couples? It's not even a conscious reaction that I'm having. I see a couple snuggle on TV and my heart hurts, sometimes leading to a flood of tears that I have no control over.
So here's my question: have I allowed myself to forget the things that I hated about being in a relationship and begin believing that the dream of a long term commitment is actually possible? Or, when I came to the conclusion that a long term relationship wasn't in the cards, was I too hurt and broken to think anything else? I guess only time will tell. And I'm okay with that.
So here's my question: have I allowed myself to forget the things that I hated about being in a relationship and begin believing that the dream of a long term commitment is actually possible? Or, when I came to the conclusion that a long term relationship wasn't in the cards, was I too hurt and broken to think anything else? I guess only time will tell. And I'm okay with that.
Friday, January 29, 2016
January 29, 2016 - I Changed My Mind, I Will Share
I started this blog to be real and share what's going on in my life with others who are going through similar things, others who have already gone through similar things, or others who think that they might be in a similar position sooner or later. I've been thinking a lot after my last post, in which I said that I didn't think that I should write about what's going on in my life right now, and have decided that I actually do want to write, at least a little bit. I want to get the real stuff out there, the most difficult parts of divorce. I don't think it's wise to share specific details and I don't really have a direction in mind for this post other than to get some things off of my chest but we'll see how this goes together. So let's do it!
Last Thursday, January 21, my son told my Mom about something that has happened at least twice while my kids were spending time at MSTBE's house. I don't feel comfortable revealing details at this point but the issue is concerning their safety and it is pretty bad. I was at work when I got the text from my Mom and I immediately texted MSTBE, telling him what I had heard and asking him to please tell me that it wasn't true. I didn't want it to be true. I really, really didn't want it to be true because if it was, everything would have to change. He confirmed that it had happened and said it wouldn't happen again. Here's the problem: there has been another, less severe safety issue happening sporadically for two years and every time I call him on it, he says it won't happen again. I told him that I didn't know what to do, that he wasn't giving me any other choice than to contact a lawyer. He responded by saying that I should take the kids because the responsibility was too much for him, that he couldn't handle all of the driving back and forth and getting the kids to school on time and picking them up on time, etc. My gut reaction was to try to fight for my kids and get him to realize that they'd be devastated without him in their lives. I didn't know exactly how any of it would work because there was no way that I was going to allow the arrangement of time with the kids to stay the same but I knew that they needed him in their lives in some form.
Over the past week, MSTBE has gone back and forth, one minute saying that I should have full custody and the next, threatening to take me to court so that he could have equally shared custody. Last Friday I spoke with the lawyer who mediated our divorce and she said that court would not be good for him. I battled with him over and over, telling him that by going to court he would lose any and all legal custody and the kids would be absolutely devastated. I wanted to discuss it like adults and come up with an arrangement in which the kids could still see him but this new arrangement had to be one that wouldn't have me worried about their safety every second that they were with him. Equally shared custody was not an option and the only reason that he was even fighting for it, in my opinion, was so that he wouldn't have to pay child support anymore. Basically every decision that he is making right now is fueled by the fact that he's in financial dire straits (or at least that's the card that he's playing) and have nothing to do with what's best for the kids.
For as long as I've known him, I've pretty much always recognized him in his words and I've been able to predict his actions, even when he has been the most angry with me. For the first time, I got an email from him in which this was not the case. As I read the email that he sent me exactly one week ago, I was in shock. I literally wondered, "Did someone else type this for him?" It didn't sound like him and it was completely unpredictable. His mental state is definitely not stable and something has to give, otherwise it's only going to get worse. The only problem is that he doesn't have the initiative or drive to make a positive change for himself.
My kids had been having a difficult time with not seeing their Dad. Of course, I haven't let them in on anything that is going on because they are two and four years old. I absolutely don't want my son to feel that he did anything wrong or to feel guilty or angry with himself about having told us what had been happening. They started to realize that things were changing on Sunday, when they were supposed to spend the night at MSTBE's. Instead, they spent the day there and came home for dinner. That night, they asked if they were going to spend the night at his house the next day like they usually do on Mondays. When I said no, they were pretty upset. By Wednesday, which is usually another "Daddy day," my son was feeling pretty devastated. He started crying in the play yard as soon as he saw my car instead of MSTBE's. I had left work a little bit early to pick up my daughter first, which is out of the ordinary because her daycare is closer to our house. But I knew that my son was going to need a distraction. As I walked up to the school and saw him standing on the other side of the fence crying, my heart broke a little more than it already had in the days prior. The walk along the stretch of fence that separated us felt ten times longer than usual and when I got through the gate, I tried to hug him but he wouldn't let me. We went inside the classroom and his teacher was concerned that he had been hurt but I told her that he was upset. I had talked with her the day before about what had been going on. My daughter started looking around the classroom and the teacher suggested that my son show her around. This definitely distracted him and he seemed happier briefly but once we got into the car, he mentioned that he was still sad. I took them to a new park, like I had done on Monday (and Tuesday was a trip for frozen yogurt) because I knew that they needed some play and happy time. It seemed to do the trick.
Sadly, they seem to have gotten used to the idea of not seeing their Dad in the past two days. In fact, we forgot to call to say goodnight two nights in a row and they didn't even notice. But they are both excited about seeing him tomorrow. This evening my son asked to go to Target to buy a toy. I told him that we weren't going to have time over the weekend so it would have to be after school one day. He said, "Well it will have to be chicken nugget day [Tuesday] because quesadilla day [Monday] and pizza day [Wednesday] are both Daddy days." I guess I had temporarily forgotten that I hadn't explained to them that things are going to be different for a while. His expectation is that things will go back to normal tomorrow. I'm trying to break this to them slowly but I don't know if it's the right way to handle it.
Last night MSTBE and I came to an agreement after hours of going back and forth. There's a good chance that he will decide, once again, that he'd rather go to court instead of sticking with the agreement, but I am hopeful that he won't. So my kids will be spending a full 24 hours with him tomorrow until Sunday morning. I am trying not to worry. He knows that we are all on high alert and that my son tells me and my Mom everything so you'd think that he will be on his best behavior. But he's known that for two years with the other safety issue that I mentioned and it continued to happen. What I hope will make it different this time is that he knows that I have ammunition to take the kids away from him completely and that I will use it if I hear anything else has happened. But I'm still nervous. The new arrangement is that he will only have them for one overnight per week, alternating Saturday one week and Sunday the next, since the pick ups and drop offs and the driving during the week are what were causing him so much stress. Nothing is going to get better for him and hence, for my kids, until he can manage his stress and get his life back together.
I am having a really difficult time not being angry and grumpy and negative. It's hard not asking myself, "Why me?" and feeling sorry for myself. I'm having an even more challenging time not saying mean things to him but I know that doing that will only put him in an even more negative and distraught state of mind and that's the last thing that I want to do, for my kids' sake.
For now, I'm enjoying the extra time with my kids. There is a marked difference in their behavior just in the last week; everyone has noticed it (my Mom, me, my son's teacher, and my daughter's daycare provider). They have always been pretty well behaved kids but lately, they have been even better. (You'd think that the opposite would be true, right?) They have been more polite, more caring towards each other, and more snugly with me. It makes me feel even more certain in my decision that less time with MSTBE is what's best for them right now.
This situation is almost laughable because for the past couple of months, I'd been thinking how I really, truly had the best of both worlds. I had four days per week to spend with my kids and three days to spend getting things done and having "me time". I had gotten into yoga and my practice was going really well. I had joined a running group with the exceptional ladies that I mentioned previously in this post. I had time for an occasional girls' night out. As much as I missed my kids on those three days per week, I knew that having the time to do these things was making me a better mother to them when they were with me. The past nine days have been challenging. My patience has been a little thinner than usual and I've been exhausted. But my Mom reminded me of something that my Grandma always says: "C'est la vie, what will be, will be." That's life and this is something that I will get through. It is something that will make me stronger and help me to appreciate my life a little bit more than I already do.
Last Thursday, January 21, my son told my Mom about something that has happened at least twice while my kids were spending time at MSTBE's house. I don't feel comfortable revealing details at this point but the issue is concerning their safety and it is pretty bad. I was at work when I got the text from my Mom and I immediately texted MSTBE, telling him what I had heard and asking him to please tell me that it wasn't true. I didn't want it to be true. I really, really didn't want it to be true because if it was, everything would have to change. He confirmed that it had happened and said it wouldn't happen again. Here's the problem: there has been another, less severe safety issue happening sporadically for two years and every time I call him on it, he says it won't happen again. I told him that I didn't know what to do, that he wasn't giving me any other choice than to contact a lawyer. He responded by saying that I should take the kids because the responsibility was too much for him, that he couldn't handle all of the driving back and forth and getting the kids to school on time and picking them up on time, etc. My gut reaction was to try to fight for my kids and get him to realize that they'd be devastated without him in their lives. I didn't know exactly how any of it would work because there was no way that I was going to allow the arrangement of time with the kids to stay the same but I knew that they needed him in their lives in some form.
Over the past week, MSTBE has gone back and forth, one minute saying that I should have full custody and the next, threatening to take me to court so that he could have equally shared custody. Last Friday I spoke with the lawyer who mediated our divorce and she said that court would not be good for him. I battled with him over and over, telling him that by going to court he would lose any and all legal custody and the kids would be absolutely devastated. I wanted to discuss it like adults and come up with an arrangement in which the kids could still see him but this new arrangement had to be one that wouldn't have me worried about their safety every second that they were with him. Equally shared custody was not an option and the only reason that he was even fighting for it, in my opinion, was so that he wouldn't have to pay child support anymore. Basically every decision that he is making right now is fueled by the fact that he's in financial dire straits (or at least that's the card that he's playing) and have nothing to do with what's best for the kids.
For as long as I've known him, I've pretty much always recognized him in his words and I've been able to predict his actions, even when he has been the most angry with me. For the first time, I got an email from him in which this was not the case. As I read the email that he sent me exactly one week ago, I was in shock. I literally wondered, "Did someone else type this for him?" It didn't sound like him and it was completely unpredictable. His mental state is definitely not stable and something has to give, otherwise it's only going to get worse. The only problem is that he doesn't have the initiative or drive to make a positive change for himself.
My kids had been having a difficult time with not seeing their Dad. Of course, I haven't let them in on anything that is going on because they are two and four years old. I absolutely don't want my son to feel that he did anything wrong or to feel guilty or angry with himself about having told us what had been happening. They started to realize that things were changing on Sunday, when they were supposed to spend the night at MSTBE's. Instead, they spent the day there and came home for dinner. That night, they asked if they were going to spend the night at his house the next day like they usually do on Mondays. When I said no, they were pretty upset. By Wednesday, which is usually another "Daddy day," my son was feeling pretty devastated. He started crying in the play yard as soon as he saw my car instead of MSTBE's. I had left work a little bit early to pick up my daughter first, which is out of the ordinary because her daycare is closer to our house. But I knew that my son was going to need a distraction. As I walked up to the school and saw him standing on the other side of the fence crying, my heart broke a little more than it already had in the days prior. The walk along the stretch of fence that separated us felt ten times longer than usual and when I got through the gate, I tried to hug him but he wouldn't let me. We went inside the classroom and his teacher was concerned that he had been hurt but I told her that he was upset. I had talked with her the day before about what had been going on. My daughter started looking around the classroom and the teacher suggested that my son show her around. This definitely distracted him and he seemed happier briefly but once we got into the car, he mentioned that he was still sad. I took them to a new park, like I had done on Monday (and Tuesday was a trip for frozen yogurt) because I knew that they needed some play and happy time. It seemed to do the trick.
Sadly, they seem to have gotten used to the idea of not seeing their Dad in the past two days. In fact, we forgot to call to say goodnight two nights in a row and they didn't even notice. But they are both excited about seeing him tomorrow. This evening my son asked to go to Target to buy a toy. I told him that we weren't going to have time over the weekend so it would have to be after school one day. He said, "Well it will have to be chicken nugget day [Tuesday] because quesadilla day [Monday] and pizza day [Wednesday] are both Daddy days." I guess I had temporarily forgotten that I hadn't explained to them that things are going to be different for a while. His expectation is that things will go back to normal tomorrow. I'm trying to break this to them slowly but I don't know if it's the right way to handle it.
Last night MSTBE and I came to an agreement after hours of going back and forth. There's a good chance that he will decide, once again, that he'd rather go to court instead of sticking with the agreement, but I am hopeful that he won't. So my kids will be spending a full 24 hours with him tomorrow until Sunday morning. I am trying not to worry. He knows that we are all on high alert and that my son tells me and my Mom everything so you'd think that he will be on his best behavior. But he's known that for two years with the other safety issue that I mentioned and it continued to happen. What I hope will make it different this time is that he knows that I have ammunition to take the kids away from him completely and that I will use it if I hear anything else has happened. But I'm still nervous. The new arrangement is that he will only have them for one overnight per week, alternating Saturday one week and Sunday the next, since the pick ups and drop offs and the driving during the week are what were causing him so much stress. Nothing is going to get better for him and hence, for my kids, until he can manage his stress and get his life back together.
I am having a really difficult time not being angry and grumpy and negative. It's hard not asking myself, "Why me?" and feeling sorry for myself. I'm having an even more challenging time not saying mean things to him but I know that doing that will only put him in an even more negative and distraught state of mind and that's the last thing that I want to do, for my kids' sake.
For now, I'm enjoying the extra time with my kids. There is a marked difference in their behavior just in the last week; everyone has noticed it (my Mom, me, my son's teacher, and my daughter's daycare provider). They have always been pretty well behaved kids but lately, they have been even better. (You'd think that the opposite would be true, right?) They have been more polite, more caring towards each other, and more snugly with me. It makes me feel even more certain in my decision that less time with MSTBE is what's best for them right now.
This situation is almost laughable because for the past couple of months, I'd been thinking how I really, truly had the best of both worlds. I had four days per week to spend with my kids and three days to spend getting things done and having "me time". I had gotten into yoga and my practice was going really well. I had joined a running group with the exceptional ladies that I mentioned previously in this post. I had time for an occasional girls' night out. As much as I missed my kids on those three days per week, I knew that having the time to do these things was making me a better mother to them when they were with me. The past nine days have been challenging. My patience has been a little thinner than usual and I've been exhausted. But my Mom reminded me of something that my Grandma always says: "C'est la vie, what will be, will be." That's life and this is something that I will get through. It is something that will make me stronger and help me to appreciate my life a little bit more than I already do.
Saturday, January 23, 2016
January 23, 2016 - I'm Done Blaming Myself!
On my facebook page, I promised a blog post because I've been dealing with some heavy duty stuff and knew that I needed to write to feel some relief. But I've decided that writing about what's going on is not in my best interest: there is a potential legal fight in the works and I don't think that it is wise to write about details in a public place. Once there is a resolution, I will update here. Instead, I'm going to write about a revelation that I had today.
This blog post... I don't even know where to begin. I just happened across it when a friend shared it on facebook. (Yes, I'm on facebook too often and yes, I'm lame for being on facebook still instead of Twitter.) I started by scrolling, which is typically what I do when I open any kind of link, and saw that it was LONG. Not just kinda long, but really long. I almost skipped reading it but decided to give it a whirl and was sucked in immediately.
But wait a minute, let me back up. (You might be able to tell that I'm a bit all over the place tonight as I still don't completely have my head in the game.) Some background is necessary before I start talking to you about this blog and the revelation that it caused me to have.
I used to blame myself for the demise of my marriage. I did. Not in a broken up over it or beating myself up kind of way. But more in a reflective way, a way that would help me learn and grow. It never really bothered me much to think that I caused my divorce. Blaming myself didn't bother me because I don't wish that the divorce never happened. It didn't bother me because I have sincerely learned so much about myself and don't believe that I will behave the same if I ever do get into another serious relationship. It didn't bother me because I wasn't kicking myself, thinking that if I would have been different, things would have been different. Our marriage would have destructed even if I was a perfect partner because MSTBE was not a good partner and never would have been, no matter how different I could have been. But it still didn't feel good to think that my personality traits were the cause of a failed marriage.
When I read that blog post today, I realized that I have been wrong all along. I blamed myself for the demise of my marriage because I was critical. I blamed myself for the demise of my marriage because I must have had unrealistic expectations of what a partner could provide in terms of loving and caring, supporting, nurturing, and connecting emotionally and physically. But after reading that blog post today, I realized that there isn't only one side to the critical coin. And there isn't only one side to anything in any relationship. It seems so obvious, doesn't it? But I often wasn't seeing it.
Yes, I was critical, oftentimes insanely critical. But there is at least one man out there (the author of said blog post) that believes that if a woman asks her significant other to do something over and over again, it might actually be his fault that things went sour in the relationship if he decides that it's not important enough to do. He doesn't understand why it's important to her so screw her, right? But there's more to it than that and she isn't just nagging to nag.
I think that I started crying when I read this part:
Any woman knows that it's not about the glass being left by the sink or the baby bottles that aren't being washed properly. We aren't finding reasons to nag just to nag and we aren't trying to end your life outside of the marriage. We aren't simply being critical just because it's fun or enjoyable. It's not either. It's about feeling like your partner is in this life with you for the long haul and will be by your side. And when you're left alone with a six month old after running a half marathon the morning of Super Bowl Sunday so that your husband can go have drinks with a bunch of single friends, you don't feel those things. When he withdraws from her family events instead of engaging and becoming a part of the family, it doesn't feel like you have someone who is truly in it. The nagging and being critical is about so much more. It's about feeling respected and appreciated. It's about feeling loved. It's about being able to trust the partner that you promised the rest of your life to.
After reading that blog post, I'm done blaming myself! I don't put the blame all on MSTBE, either. But I'm done putting the burden of the blame on myself. And, on top of it, I have discovered that there's at least one man in the universe who seems to really "get it." Here's to hoping that there are plenty more out there!
This blog post... I don't even know where to begin. I just happened across it when a friend shared it on facebook. (Yes, I'm on facebook too often and yes, I'm lame for being on facebook still instead of Twitter.) I started by scrolling, which is typically what I do when I open any kind of link, and saw that it was LONG. Not just kinda long, but really long. I almost skipped reading it but decided to give it a whirl and was sucked in immediately.
But wait a minute, let me back up. (You might be able to tell that I'm a bit all over the place tonight as I still don't completely have my head in the game.) Some background is necessary before I start talking to you about this blog and the revelation that it caused me to have.
I used to blame myself for the demise of my marriage. I did. Not in a broken up over it or beating myself up kind of way. But more in a reflective way, a way that would help me learn and grow. It never really bothered me much to think that I caused my divorce. Blaming myself didn't bother me because I don't wish that the divorce never happened. It didn't bother me because I have sincerely learned so much about myself and don't believe that I will behave the same if I ever do get into another serious relationship. It didn't bother me because I wasn't kicking myself, thinking that if I would have been different, things would have been different. Our marriage would have destructed even if I was a perfect partner because MSTBE was not a good partner and never would have been, no matter how different I could have been. But it still didn't feel good to think that my personality traits were the cause of a failed marriage.
When I read that blog post today, I realized that I have been wrong all along. I blamed myself for the demise of my marriage because I was critical. I blamed myself for the demise of my marriage because I must have had unrealistic expectations of what a partner could provide in terms of loving and caring, supporting, nurturing, and connecting emotionally and physically. But after reading that blog post today, I realized that there isn't only one side to the critical coin. And there isn't only one side to anything in any relationship. It seems so obvious, doesn't it? But I often wasn't seeing it.
Yes, I was critical, oftentimes insanely critical. But there is at least one man out there (the author of said blog post) that believes that if a woman asks her significant other to do something over and over again, it might actually be his fault that things went sour in the relationship if he decides that it's not important enough to do. He doesn't understand why it's important to her so screw her, right? But there's more to it than that and she isn't just nagging to nag.
I think that I started crying when I read this part:
"I don’t have to understand WHY she cares so much about that stupid glass.
I just have to understand and respect that she DOES. Then caring about her = putting glass in dishwasher.
Caring about her = keeping your laundry off the floor.
Caring about her = thoughtfully not tracking dirt or whatever on the floor she worked hard to clean.
Caring about her = taking care of kid-related things so she can just chill out for a little bit and not worry about anything.
Caring about her = 'Hey babe. Is there anything I can do today or pick up on my way home that will make your day better?'
Caring about her = a million little things that say 'I love you' more than speaking the words ever can."
After reading that blog post, I'm done blaming myself! I don't put the blame all on MSTBE, either. But I'm done putting the burden of the blame on myself. And, on top of it, I have discovered that there's at least one man in the universe who seems to really "get it." Here's to hoping that there are plenty more out there!
Friday, December 25, 2015
December 25, 2015 ~ I Really Want to Believe
Tonight, as I was driving home from a movie with a girlfriend, I couldn't stop my mind from racing about marriage and relationships. I kept thinking over and over, "I want to believe." And then I passed by an apartment building that had a very prominently lit Christmas tree in the large window at the front and I almost laughed out loud. How ironic that today, on Christmas day, I can't stop thinking about how much I want to believe in something that seems somewhat impossible to have faith in.
"What prompted these thoughts?" you might be wondering. In the past couple of months, I've had dating thrown in my face quite a bit.
In mid October, I met a spectacular group of women on a community page on facebook when one of them posted asking for other women interested in running and beer. What an awesome concept, right? We all meet up at a local brewery, run 2-4 miles, and then hang out and have a beer together. In the short two months that I've known these ladies, we've done our usual weekly run and beer but there's been so much more. We've gone out drinking together, they've helped me move my tenants belongings out of storage to sell (and brought beer, to boot), we've had a Christmas event, and I visited one of them in the hospital after she'd been there all day with her daughter. To say that we've become fast friends is an understatement. Two of the ladies, whom I've spent the most time with, are both divorced and have experienced the dating scene since their divorces; one of them is actively dating and the other had been but is on a "boy break." Conversations with them about dating got the wheels turning in my head, despite feeling no rush to get back into the scene.
A few weeks ago when I was selling my tenant's belongings (see here if you're a first time reader and this sounds odd to you), a gentleman that came to buy some items asked me for my phone number. He was tall, dark, and handsome although completely not my type and he was very flattering so, against what my gut was telling me, I gave him my number. To make a long story short, he has actively been pursuing me off and on because he felt a connection when we spoke on the phone but I didn't feel anything strong enough to warrant a date. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: instead of spending time trying to get to know a stranger via awkward conversation, I'd rather be hanging out with girlfriends or doing yoga or having some alone time. (I don't mention my kids here because nothing would cut into time with my kids; that time is sacred.) He seems like a sincerely nice guy but I noticed too many differences in personality, beliefs, and hobbies to believe that there could ever be anything there.
Through all of this, I remained steadfast in my feeling that I'm happier and better off on my own. That changed last Monday when I met my mortgage broker for the first time. I have been working with him since I started looking at homes several months ago but I had only spoken with him on the phone and via email. I had seen his picture as a small icon on something that he sent me. It was basically microscopic but I could tell that he is very attractive. Every time I spoke with him, he seemed like a very nice, hard working man. And my real estate agent has sung his praises time and time again. Despite finding him attractive and having been told great things about him, I never really thought anything of it. But something made me schedule a meeting with him to sit down and run some numbers face to face, even though we could have easily done it over the phone or even via email.
With my busy schedule and an out of town meeting that he had, there was about a week from the time that we scheduled until the actual meeting. As it drew closer, I began to get excited about meeting him. Like a silly high school girl, I had begun talking about him and showing his pictures on facebook to my friends (he had recently friend requested me). One of the girls kept texting me about him with the emoji that has hearts for eyes. I literally sent a group text to all of the single girls from my running group to discuss what I should wear to the meeting. I think part of the excitement and anticipation was simply because it was fun and new. I was feeling things that I hadn't felt in a very long time. But there was a little part of me that did want to be found attractive by this attractive man.
When I walked into his office on Monday morning, I was almost stopped in my tracks. I turned into a blubbering idiot. This guy isn't just attractive; he is an incredibly handsome gentleman. But he doesn't look like a model. He's MY kind of attractive, MY type. Don't get me wrong, I think that most women would find him attractive. I'm not trying to downplay that. But good Lord, if there was ever a guy that I considered my type, it's this guy. I was immediately greeted with a slight smirk, like we had an inside joke together or something. And it wasn't a slimy smirk; it was more like a shy smirk. Throughout the meeting, he flashed that same smirk several times. I wish that I could describe what I picked up on from him but I can't really put it into words, probably mostly because I was so taken aback by my attraction to him. In fact, there was a brief time when I stopped hearing his voice because I was imagining a first kiss with him, which is so unlike me!
Even though I can't describe to you what happened in that half hour meeting I can tell you that something changed in me. There might have been true chemistry (which may or may not come to fruition after we're done doing business together), or he might have simply lit a spark in my interest in dating in general. This attraction to a handsome man who has been praised over and over again by a woman whose opinion I respect has brought back some hope for me. I really want to believe that a long term relationship is a realistic goal for my future. It still seems a little bit like believing in Santa Claus but I have to admit that there is a renewed feeling of optimism.
I did text my real estate agent about the meeting to update her on the financial aspect and threw this in "(Side note: he is very handsome!)" to which she responded that he is very much a gentleman, too. And I'm left wondering.
"What prompted these thoughts?" you might be wondering. In the past couple of months, I've had dating thrown in my face quite a bit.
In mid October, I met a spectacular group of women on a community page on facebook when one of them posted asking for other women interested in running and beer. What an awesome concept, right? We all meet up at a local brewery, run 2-4 miles, and then hang out and have a beer together. In the short two months that I've known these ladies, we've done our usual weekly run and beer but there's been so much more. We've gone out drinking together, they've helped me move my tenants belongings out of storage to sell (and brought beer, to boot), we've had a Christmas event, and I visited one of them in the hospital after she'd been there all day with her daughter. To say that we've become fast friends is an understatement. Two of the ladies, whom I've spent the most time with, are both divorced and have experienced the dating scene since their divorces; one of them is actively dating and the other had been but is on a "boy break." Conversations with them about dating got the wheels turning in my head, despite feeling no rush to get back into the scene.
A few weeks ago when I was selling my tenant's belongings (see here if you're a first time reader and this sounds odd to you), a gentleman that came to buy some items asked me for my phone number. He was tall, dark, and handsome although completely not my type and he was very flattering so, against what my gut was telling me, I gave him my number. To make a long story short, he has actively been pursuing me off and on because he felt a connection when we spoke on the phone but I didn't feel anything strong enough to warrant a date. If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: instead of spending time trying to get to know a stranger via awkward conversation, I'd rather be hanging out with girlfriends or doing yoga or having some alone time. (I don't mention my kids here because nothing would cut into time with my kids; that time is sacred.) He seems like a sincerely nice guy but I noticed too many differences in personality, beliefs, and hobbies to believe that there could ever be anything there.
Through all of this, I remained steadfast in my feeling that I'm happier and better off on my own. That changed last Monday when I met my mortgage broker for the first time. I have been working with him since I started looking at homes several months ago but I had only spoken with him on the phone and via email. I had seen his picture as a small icon on something that he sent me. It was basically microscopic but I could tell that he is very attractive. Every time I spoke with him, he seemed like a very nice, hard working man. And my real estate agent has sung his praises time and time again. Despite finding him attractive and having been told great things about him, I never really thought anything of it. But something made me schedule a meeting with him to sit down and run some numbers face to face, even though we could have easily done it over the phone or even via email.
With my busy schedule and an out of town meeting that he had, there was about a week from the time that we scheduled until the actual meeting. As it drew closer, I began to get excited about meeting him. Like a silly high school girl, I had begun talking about him and showing his pictures on facebook to my friends (he had recently friend requested me). One of the girls kept texting me about him with the emoji that has hearts for eyes. I literally sent a group text to all of the single girls from my running group to discuss what I should wear to the meeting. I think part of the excitement and anticipation was simply because it was fun and new. I was feeling things that I hadn't felt in a very long time. But there was a little part of me that did want to be found attractive by this attractive man.
When I walked into his office on Monday morning, I was almost stopped in my tracks. I turned into a blubbering idiot. This guy isn't just attractive; he is an incredibly handsome gentleman. But he doesn't look like a model. He's MY kind of attractive, MY type. Don't get me wrong, I think that most women would find him attractive. I'm not trying to downplay that. But good Lord, if there was ever a guy that I considered my type, it's this guy. I was immediately greeted with a slight smirk, like we had an inside joke together or something. And it wasn't a slimy smirk; it was more like a shy smirk. Throughout the meeting, he flashed that same smirk several times. I wish that I could describe what I picked up on from him but I can't really put it into words, probably mostly because I was so taken aback by my attraction to him. In fact, there was a brief time when I stopped hearing his voice because I was imagining a first kiss with him, which is so unlike me!
Even though I can't describe to you what happened in that half hour meeting I can tell you that something changed in me. There might have been true chemistry (which may or may not come to fruition after we're done doing business together), or he might have simply lit a spark in my interest in dating in general. This attraction to a handsome man who has been praised over and over again by a woman whose opinion I respect has brought back some hope for me. I really want to believe that a long term relationship is a realistic goal for my future. It still seems a little bit like believing in Santa Claus but I have to admit that there is a renewed feeling of optimism.
I did text my real estate agent about the meeting to update her on the financial aspect and threw this in "(Side note: he is very handsome!)" to which she responded that he is very much a gentleman, too. And I'm left wondering.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
November 22, 2015 - My Absence
It has been three and a half months since I last posted, right before the shit hit the proverbial fan. I am the type of person that has to have a resolution before I feel comfortable doing much talking about a situation. It's probably due to all of the sitcoms that I watched growing up, where every problem that the characters had were resolved in a 30 minute episode. (My Dad always used to comment on how unrealistic they were) I'm writing before there's a resolution because this morning I realized that I'm starting to feel myself climbing into a hole of negativity; I'm having a difficult time continuing to believe that I'll be okay once this situation is over and I have a bunch of doomsday scenarios running through my head. I've done a lot of work in my adult life to get away from this negative thinking and I'm determined not to regress back into this mindset. I'm writing now because it's the only thing that I could think of that I could do immediately and possibly feel better about what's happening. So here goes.
I bought a small condo at the ripe old age of 23, very shortly after earning my teaching credential. I give full credit to my Dad for helping me make this wise decision: rents were insanely high and it actually made more sense to buy than to rent, but I never would've figured that out on my own. And I never would have had the down payment without a loan from my Dad and step Mom. I lived there until I was 29 and engaged, when I moved 25 miles north, which was more of a middle ground between my job and MSTBE's. I tried to sell the condo but the timing was awful. This was right when the housing market started dropping. So I decided to keep it as a rental. I've been a landlord for eight years now with no major complications.
At the end of May this year, I decided to sell it. I've been renting a house for a while now and feel that it is time to buy a home for my kids and myself. The money that I get from the sale will act as my down payment. We went into escrow quickly but set it up to close on or before September 30 as that was when the tenant's lease was up. I was hopeful that with four months advanced notice, the tenant would move out sooner and we'd close during the summer. Boy, was I ever wrong.
Instead of moving out early, she stopped paying her rent on August 1. This was actually a blessing in disguise. (More on that later.) I had authorized my real estate agent to offer her the month of August rent free if she moved out by the thirty first but we never heard back from her confirming that. There were other things going on with her; I was getting regular calls, texts and emails from neighbors in the complex and the homeowner's association about very erratic behavior and the police had been called on her numerous times. I didn't trust her. On August 24 I posted a three day notice to pay or quit, the first step in the eviction process. I left her a message that day telling her that I didn't want to proceed with the eviction process and if she moved out by August 31, I wouldn't pursue anything further. I told her that I was simply protecting myself. Later that day I got a threatening voicemail.
Needless to say, my tenant did not move out on the thirty first and I hired a lawyer. The chaos around the complex escalated. September was an incredibly stressful month for me. Then, all of a sudden toward the end of the month, the complaints ceased. The neighbor upstairs, whom I'd been friends with the entire time that I lived there, texted me and was actually concerned about the tenant. Her car had been sitting unmoved for over a week with a note taped to it. In the middle of a heatwave, the windows in the condo remained closed and the air conditioner was never turned on. My agent went over to do some recon and learned that the tenant was in the unit but wouldn't open the door, claiming that she was sick.
A few days later, we were scheduled to be in court for the eviction judgement. I was more nervous than I'd been in a long time as I walked up to the courthouse, up the stairs, and down the hall to the courtroom. I was looking around every corner, waiting to run into her and for her to verbally attack me. Or worse. In fact, I was so paranoid that I made myself believe that someone was following me as I drove to the courthouse. My tenant had told me that her Dad had "goons" following her and I adopted some of that irrational paranoia, thinking that those goons were going to create an accident and cause me to not make it to court.
She didn't show up for the hearing. I won the judgement by default. My lawyer said it would be 10-15 days before the lockout date was scheduled. (Remember that timeframe; it'll come up again).
When we learned that the hearing was scheduled for September 30, we requested an extension on escrow through October 30. The buyer agreed. I called the lawyer's office regularly to follow up on the timeframe and the steps that had to be taken before the lockout. First, the court had to issue the request for a writ of possession. That usually happens the day after the hearing. I called a week after the hearing and found out that the judge had let the paperwork sit on his desk for the entire week and the lawyer just received it. I was told we were now 10-15 days from the lockout. "Wait, the lawyer told me 10-15 days after the hearing?!?!" I called a few days later to find out if the writ had been sent to the sheriff. The assistant told me that they had to send the writ back to the courts because the clerk forgot to put the judgement date on it; that it might take three weeks to get it back. I was in such shock and outrage that I hung up the phone, defeated. I called back a bit later after having had time to think about it and was ready to insist that this mistake not hold up the process (and cost me three weeks of rent!). Before I even had a chance to start making demands, I found out that the document had already been delivered and that it would go to the sheriff the next day. Clearly the receptionist didn't know what she was talking about. This was now around October 19th. On this second phone call, I asked the lawyer for a timeframe. I'll give you one guess about what he told me... 10-15 days! Are you kidding me?!?!
The next day, I called the sheriff. It took some work but I was finally able to get a hold of a real person. She told me that the lockout is usually done about a week after the writ of possession is posted but that it all really depends on the deputy's schedule. She told me that evictions have priority. She also told me that the sheriff would call me one day before the lockout or maybe even the day of the lockout. Again, I was a bit stunned by the information and hung up without asking questions. A day or two later I called back. This time it took more work to get to a live human but the person that I spoke with was more helpful. I told her that I'm a teacher and I can't just get up and leave work with very little notice. She told me that she would get a message to the deputy for me. For the remainder of the day, I was anxious and had a hard time focusing on teaching. I kept my phone, ringer on, by my side, which I never do. In the early afternoon I got a call from a number that I didn't recognize and got excited only to find out that it was a doctor following up on a request that my doctor sent for routine genetic screening.
The second call that I got that afternoon was the deputy. I left my students, mid lesson (I had explained a little bit to them about what was going on beforehand), and found out that the sheriff was expecting an ugly lockout. He had scheduled it for two days from then, on October 29, and he had spoken with the tenant earlier that day. He said that she was determined not to leave. But he was firm in that he was going to get possession of my property that day.
All that I could think about for the next day and a half was the entitlement of my tenant. What made her think that she should just be allowed to live in my property for free? I'm not her parent or even her friend or relative. Why does she think it's my responsibility to provide for her? And did she have no guilt about the amount of money that she'd already cost me?
The morning of the twenty ninth, I left my house at least ten minutes earlier than I needed to. I was a ball of nerves. I was hoping that there was no reason that I needed to be in the vicinity of the unit when they physically removed the tenant, that I could wait in my car. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to know if things went poorly or if they went easily. I simply wanted to know when she was out so that the locksmith could change the locks.
As I pulled into a guest parking spot five minutes before I was scheduled to meet the deputy, he called. They were waiting in the parking area a bit further down. There were a total of three deputies and an adult protective services agent. I handed the deputy a key and he asked if I wanted to wait in the car. Ah, what a relief. I said, "Yes, yes I do" in such a relived tone that the guys all got a chuckle. I walked back to my car, locked the doors, and used my phone as a distraction. Shortly afterward, the deputy called and said that they were in, that the tenant wasn't there, and that the locksmith was already working. He suggested that I come inside.
When I walked up, I had feelings of both disappointment and relief. I was disappointed that the tenant had left all of her belongings; I could tell that she had a lot of stuff but I didn't understand the magnitude until we moved all of it that weekend. I was relieved that there appeared to be no physical damage to the property. The locks were changed and I went home to decompress after what was another very stressful day. Later that day, I got a text from the upstairs neighbor. Someone in the complex had seen the tenant walking around, carrying the eviction notice. And that is the last that I've heard from her.
In the next day or so, I feverishly called around to find a moving company but then got so many offers of help from friends and family that I decided we could move it all ourselves. I wasn't expecting the tenant to claim the property and knew I wouldn't get much for the junk at a garage sale so I wanted to keep costs down. Legally I had to store the property for 15 days and then post two advertisements about a "public sale," at least five days apart.
Here's where things get messy again. On Friday night the tenant's father contacted my real estate agent saying they wanted to collect her things. I told them that we were already set to move everything on Sunday and my cleaning lady was coming in Sunday afternoon. Since I didn't trust them to follow through on their word, I told them they either had to move it all on Saturday (so that I could check Saturday night and still move it Sunday if needed) or they had to use the movers that I had previously scheduled for Sunday morning and pay me cash in advance. I was even going to pay the difference if the move took longer than expected. Initially, the Dad agreed to pay $500 for the movers. I cancelled the Uhaul and rescheduled the movers. Within an hour he changed his tune and said he'd only pay $400 and that I had to make up the difference. Are you freakin' kidding me?!?! This human being is not my responsibility!!! I have two beautiful children of my own and I don't need to take on anyone else's responsibility. So I told him to fuck off.
We spent nine hours packing and moving all of her things into storage. Nine hours. With seven people. As I had been calling around for storage facilities, everyone suggested a ten by ten unit for a 700 square foot one bedroom condo. The last place that I called happened to have a ten by seventeen on special at the cheapest price of all that I called. And it's a good thing. We filled that thing to the brim along with a full dumpster!
Believe it or not, this wasn't the end. Sometime around Tuesday the Dad contacted my agent again, saying that he wanted the belongings and that I was required to allow him access without him having to pay. It's too bad that he didn't Google the law before he decided to blow me off in the first place. I put him in contact with my lawyer who ensured him that he needed to pay me back for moving expenses, storage expenses, and even for our time spent moving. I haven't heard back from him again.
I still have the garage sale ahead of me, moving all of her belongings out of storage, trying to get enough money to cover my expenses, and throwing the rest away. Half of the storage unit is filled with what I consider trash. I will be paying a junk company to come remove all of that. But until this last Thursday, I thought we were going to have smooth sailing.
Sometime in the middle of October, we moved the close of escrow date to November 5. But the lender kept delaying the appraisal. We were going to get them in there two weeks before the eviction but they didn't want the buyer to pay for it until the tenant was out for fear that she wasn't going to get out. Clearly they have no idea how an eviction works. Did they think that she'd be able to stay in there indefinitely even though I already had the judgement? So we pushed the close date to November 20 and the appraisal was done about a week after the eviction.
Fast forward to Monday, November 16. We're expecting loan docs to be ready. My agent calls the lender several times Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Finally, after no response, he drives to the lender's office on Thursday. Turns out that the buyer has a tax issue and he needs to refile for a previous tax year. The lender claims that this will take 45 days. I'm freaking out at this point. The buyer has been in a tough spot because he had to move out of his previous residence on the fifth. He's desperate to move into my condo and rent back. But I've been advised from a friend that renting back should be a last resort. Even before that advice I was hesitant to rent back. There are so many ways that it could go wrong and I just can't deal with more trouble here. Thursday afternoon the lender said that the buyer was so desperate that he'd have first month's rent and security deposit to me the next day. But then nobody returned my agent's phone calls all day Friday.
He and I brainstormed Friday night. I'm basically screwed. My CPA said that realistically this could take three months. If that's the case, then I'm going to be in the market to buy a house for myself in February, right when the market is picking back up. Right now, in the off season market with prices a bit lower than they were in the summer, I can afford a house. Barely. Literally if prices go up at all, I won't be able to. The only other option is to find a new buyer. Well, it looks like we either oversold it or prices have just gone down. There's another unit listed for $6000 less, same floorplan, more upgrades, and it's been sitting on the market for a while. So in this option, I potentially lose $10,000 or more by finding a new buyer, which also won't work because I barely have enough for a down payment as it is. I'm screwed.
The plan that we came up with on Friday night was this: we will meet with the lender tomorrow. I may or may not attend depending on the feel that my agent gets when he speaks with them in the morning. We will set out a list of expectations that need to be met, otherwise we cancel escrow. Among the many things on the list are that they need to tell us exactly what the tax issue is, we need to speak with the CPA handling it, and I need to confirm the timeline with my CPA. If either CPA thinks the process will take more than 60 days, we're cancelling. In addition, the buyer needs to give me two months rent as a deposit (because now I know that that's how long an eviction takes) and he needs to pay my per diem, the exact amount that I'm paying including taxes on the condo. Lastly, the buyer needs to switch to using our lender.
My life is in a holding pattern that is completely out of my control, once again, and just when I thought that this mess was over. I'm really struggling with feelings of' "Why me?" and, "What did I do to deserve this?" Logically I know that I didn't do anything, that none of this is my fault. But my heart is hurting and I don't know how much more of this I can take. The thought of not being able to buy a house for myself and my kids is devastating. Knowing that the irresponsibility and unprofessional behavior of others has possibly taken me from a place where I could to a place where I can't is beyond frustrating. I'm trying really hard to keep myself positive and to realize that there might be some good that comes out of this. For example, had my tenant not stopped paying her rent, I wouldn't have known that she wasn't intending on moving out. I would have carried on, thinking that she would move out on September 30, and this entire process would have been pushed back more than a month. The missed rent was a blessing in disguise. I'm hoping that there's some light at the end of this sad, dark tunnel and I'm hoping that it involves a house.
I bought a small condo at the ripe old age of 23, very shortly after earning my teaching credential. I give full credit to my Dad for helping me make this wise decision: rents were insanely high and it actually made more sense to buy than to rent, but I never would've figured that out on my own. And I never would have had the down payment without a loan from my Dad and step Mom. I lived there until I was 29 and engaged, when I moved 25 miles north, which was more of a middle ground between my job and MSTBE's. I tried to sell the condo but the timing was awful. This was right when the housing market started dropping. So I decided to keep it as a rental. I've been a landlord for eight years now with no major complications.
At the end of May this year, I decided to sell it. I've been renting a house for a while now and feel that it is time to buy a home for my kids and myself. The money that I get from the sale will act as my down payment. We went into escrow quickly but set it up to close on or before September 30 as that was when the tenant's lease was up. I was hopeful that with four months advanced notice, the tenant would move out sooner and we'd close during the summer. Boy, was I ever wrong.
Instead of moving out early, she stopped paying her rent on August 1. This was actually a blessing in disguise. (More on that later.) I had authorized my real estate agent to offer her the month of August rent free if she moved out by the thirty first but we never heard back from her confirming that. There were other things going on with her; I was getting regular calls, texts and emails from neighbors in the complex and the homeowner's association about very erratic behavior and the police had been called on her numerous times. I didn't trust her. On August 24 I posted a three day notice to pay or quit, the first step in the eviction process. I left her a message that day telling her that I didn't want to proceed with the eviction process and if she moved out by August 31, I wouldn't pursue anything further. I told her that I was simply protecting myself. Later that day I got a threatening voicemail.
Needless to say, my tenant did not move out on the thirty first and I hired a lawyer. The chaos around the complex escalated. September was an incredibly stressful month for me. Then, all of a sudden toward the end of the month, the complaints ceased. The neighbor upstairs, whom I'd been friends with the entire time that I lived there, texted me and was actually concerned about the tenant. Her car had been sitting unmoved for over a week with a note taped to it. In the middle of a heatwave, the windows in the condo remained closed and the air conditioner was never turned on. My agent went over to do some recon and learned that the tenant was in the unit but wouldn't open the door, claiming that she was sick.
A few days later, we were scheduled to be in court for the eviction judgement. I was more nervous than I'd been in a long time as I walked up to the courthouse, up the stairs, and down the hall to the courtroom. I was looking around every corner, waiting to run into her and for her to verbally attack me. Or worse. In fact, I was so paranoid that I made myself believe that someone was following me as I drove to the courthouse. My tenant had told me that her Dad had "goons" following her and I adopted some of that irrational paranoia, thinking that those goons were going to create an accident and cause me to not make it to court.
She didn't show up for the hearing. I won the judgement by default. My lawyer said it would be 10-15 days before the lockout date was scheduled. (Remember that timeframe; it'll come up again).
When we learned that the hearing was scheduled for September 30, we requested an extension on escrow through October 30. The buyer agreed. I called the lawyer's office regularly to follow up on the timeframe and the steps that had to be taken before the lockout. First, the court had to issue the request for a writ of possession. That usually happens the day after the hearing. I called a week after the hearing and found out that the judge had let the paperwork sit on his desk for the entire week and the lawyer just received it. I was told we were now 10-15 days from the lockout. "Wait, the lawyer told me 10-15 days after the hearing?!?!" I called a few days later to find out if the writ had been sent to the sheriff. The assistant told me that they had to send the writ back to the courts because the clerk forgot to put the judgement date on it; that it might take three weeks to get it back. I was in such shock and outrage that I hung up the phone, defeated. I called back a bit later after having had time to think about it and was ready to insist that this mistake not hold up the process (and cost me three weeks of rent!). Before I even had a chance to start making demands, I found out that the document had already been delivered and that it would go to the sheriff the next day. Clearly the receptionist didn't know what she was talking about. This was now around October 19th. On this second phone call, I asked the lawyer for a timeframe. I'll give you one guess about what he told me... 10-15 days! Are you kidding me?!?!
The next day, I called the sheriff. It took some work but I was finally able to get a hold of a real person. She told me that the lockout is usually done about a week after the writ of possession is posted but that it all really depends on the deputy's schedule. She told me that evictions have priority. She also told me that the sheriff would call me one day before the lockout or maybe even the day of the lockout. Again, I was a bit stunned by the information and hung up without asking questions. A day or two later I called back. This time it took more work to get to a live human but the person that I spoke with was more helpful. I told her that I'm a teacher and I can't just get up and leave work with very little notice. She told me that she would get a message to the deputy for me. For the remainder of the day, I was anxious and had a hard time focusing on teaching. I kept my phone, ringer on, by my side, which I never do. In the early afternoon I got a call from a number that I didn't recognize and got excited only to find out that it was a doctor following up on a request that my doctor sent for routine genetic screening.
The second call that I got that afternoon was the deputy. I left my students, mid lesson (I had explained a little bit to them about what was going on beforehand), and found out that the sheriff was expecting an ugly lockout. He had scheduled it for two days from then, on October 29, and he had spoken with the tenant earlier that day. He said that she was determined not to leave. But he was firm in that he was going to get possession of my property that day.
All that I could think about for the next day and a half was the entitlement of my tenant. What made her think that she should just be allowed to live in my property for free? I'm not her parent or even her friend or relative. Why does she think it's my responsibility to provide for her? And did she have no guilt about the amount of money that she'd already cost me?
The morning of the twenty ninth, I left my house at least ten minutes earlier than I needed to. I was a ball of nerves. I was hoping that there was no reason that I needed to be in the vicinity of the unit when they physically removed the tenant, that I could wait in my car. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want to know if things went poorly or if they went easily. I simply wanted to know when she was out so that the locksmith could change the locks.
As I pulled into a guest parking spot five minutes before I was scheduled to meet the deputy, he called. They were waiting in the parking area a bit further down. There were a total of three deputies and an adult protective services agent. I handed the deputy a key and he asked if I wanted to wait in the car. Ah, what a relief. I said, "Yes, yes I do" in such a relived tone that the guys all got a chuckle. I walked back to my car, locked the doors, and used my phone as a distraction. Shortly afterward, the deputy called and said that they were in, that the tenant wasn't there, and that the locksmith was already working. He suggested that I come inside.
When I walked up, I had feelings of both disappointment and relief. I was disappointed that the tenant had left all of her belongings; I could tell that she had a lot of stuff but I didn't understand the magnitude until we moved all of it that weekend. I was relieved that there appeared to be no physical damage to the property. The locks were changed and I went home to decompress after what was another very stressful day. Later that day, I got a text from the upstairs neighbor. Someone in the complex had seen the tenant walking around, carrying the eviction notice. And that is the last that I've heard from her.
In the next day or so, I feverishly called around to find a moving company but then got so many offers of help from friends and family that I decided we could move it all ourselves. I wasn't expecting the tenant to claim the property and knew I wouldn't get much for the junk at a garage sale so I wanted to keep costs down. Legally I had to store the property for 15 days and then post two advertisements about a "public sale," at least five days apart.
Here's where things get messy again. On Friday night the tenant's father contacted my real estate agent saying they wanted to collect her things. I told them that we were already set to move everything on Sunday and my cleaning lady was coming in Sunday afternoon. Since I didn't trust them to follow through on their word, I told them they either had to move it all on Saturday (so that I could check Saturday night and still move it Sunday if needed) or they had to use the movers that I had previously scheduled for Sunday morning and pay me cash in advance. I was even going to pay the difference if the move took longer than expected. Initially, the Dad agreed to pay $500 for the movers. I cancelled the Uhaul and rescheduled the movers. Within an hour he changed his tune and said he'd only pay $400 and that I had to make up the difference. Are you freakin' kidding me?!?! This human being is not my responsibility!!! I have two beautiful children of my own and I don't need to take on anyone else's responsibility. So I told him to fuck off.
We spent nine hours packing and moving all of her things into storage. Nine hours. With seven people. As I had been calling around for storage facilities, everyone suggested a ten by ten unit for a 700 square foot one bedroom condo. The last place that I called happened to have a ten by seventeen on special at the cheapest price of all that I called. And it's a good thing. We filled that thing to the brim along with a full dumpster!
Believe it or not, this wasn't the end. Sometime around Tuesday the Dad contacted my agent again, saying that he wanted the belongings and that I was required to allow him access without him having to pay. It's too bad that he didn't Google the law before he decided to blow me off in the first place. I put him in contact with my lawyer who ensured him that he needed to pay me back for moving expenses, storage expenses, and even for our time spent moving. I haven't heard back from him again.
I still have the garage sale ahead of me, moving all of her belongings out of storage, trying to get enough money to cover my expenses, and throwing the rest away. Half of the storage unit is filled with what I consider trash. I will be paying a junk company to come remove all of that. But until this last Thursday, I thought we were going to have smooth sailing.
Sometime in the middle of October, we moved the close of escrow date to November 5. But the lender kept delaying the appraisal. We were going to get them in there two weeks before the eviction but they didn't want the buyer to pay for it until the tenant was out for fear that she wasn't going to get out. Clearly they have no idea how an eviction works. Did they think that she'd be able to stay in there indefinitely even though I already had the judgement? So we pushed the close date to November 20 and the appraisal was done about a week after the eviction.
Fast forward to Monday, November 16. We're expecting loan docs to be ready. My agent calls the lender several times Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Finally, after no response, he drives to the lender's office on Thursday. Turns out that the buyer has a tax issue and he needs to refile for a previous tax year. The lender claims that this will take 45 days. I'm freaking out at this point. The buyer has been in a tough spot because he had to move out of his previous residence on the fifth. He's desperate to move into my condo and rent back. But I've been advised from a friend that renting back should be a last resort. Even before that advice I was hesitant to rent back. There are so many ways that it could go wrong and I just can't deal with more trouble here. Thursday afternoon the lender said that the buyer was so desperate that he'd have first month's rent and security deposit to me the next day. But then nobody returned my agent's phone calls all day Friday.
He and I brainstormed Friday night. I'm basically screwed. My CPA said that realistically this could take three months. If that's the case, then I'm going to be in the market to buy a house for myself in February, right when the market is picking back up. Right now, in the off season market with prices a bit lower than they were in the summer, I can afford a house. Barely. Literally if prices go up at all, I won't be able to. The only other option is to find a new buyer. Well, it looks like we either oversold it or prices have just gone down. There's another unit listed for $6000 less, same floorplan, more upgrades, and it's been sitting on the market for a while. So in this option, I potentially lose $10,000 or more by finding a new buyer, which also won't work because I barely have enough for a down payment as it is. I'm screwed.
The plan that we came up with on Friday night was this: we will meet with the lender tomorrow. I may or may not attend depending on the feel that my agent gets when he speaks with them in the morning. We will set out a list of expectations that need to be met, otherwise we cancel escrow. Among the many things on the list are that they need to tell us exactly what the tax issue is, we need to speak with the CPA handling it, and I need to confirm the timeline with my CPA. If either CPA thinks the process will take more than 60 days, we're cancelling. In addition, the buyer needs to give me two months rent as a deposit (because now I know that that's how long an eviction takes) and he needs to pay my per diem, the exact amount that I'm paying including taxes on the condo. Lastly, the buyer needs to switch to using our lender.
My life is in a holding pattern that is completely out of my control, once again, and just when I thought that this mess was over. I'm really struggling with feelings of' "Why me?" and, "What did I do to deserve this?" Logically I know that I didn't do anything, that none of this is my fault. But my heart is hurting and I don't know how much more of this I can take. The thought of not being able to buy a house for myself and my kids is devastating. Knowing that the irresponsibility and unprofessional behavior of others has possibly taken me from a place where I could to a place where I can't is beyond frustrating. I'm trying really hard to keep myself positive and to realize that there might be some good that comes out of this. For example, had my tenant not stopped paying her rent, I wouldn't have known that she wasn't intending on moving out. I would have carried on, thinking that she would move out on September 30, and this entire process would have been pushed back more than a month. The missed rent was a blessing in disguise. I'm hoping that there's some light at the end of this sad, dark tunnel and I'm hoping that it involves a house.
Friday, July 3, 2015
UPDATED! Friday, July 3, 2015 ~ There's Something That You Should Know About Me
I'm not sitting around wishing, dreaming, and hoping for a man to come into my life. In fact, at this point in my life, I can't imagine dating again, let alone getting married again. I'm sure that my friends are well meaning when they mention my future husband or when they get disappointed when I tell them that I don't believe in marriage. I know that they want me to be happy. But what they don't understand is that I'm happier on my own than I'd been in a relationship in a long time. And I'm not just talking about the last year and a half of my marriage, when things were awful.
I don't know if it's my personality or the place I'm at in my life. I love people; I thrive when I'm in social environments. But when I'm home, I need time to be alone and do my own thing. I recently learned that this makes me an ambivert: a weird combination of an introvert and an extrovert. So I don't want someone waiting for me when I get home. Literally. I DON'T WANT someone at home.
I feel like there's got to be more that I can say to get my point across. But isn't this enough? I'm sure that you might be wondering why I don't believe in marriage (or long term relationships of any sort, for that matter), but I'll save that for another time.
Happy Fourth!
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
I was laying down during savasana in yoga tonight, thinking about the frozen yogurt that I was going to pick up on my way home. I was contemplating the perfect combination: cake batter froyo with a spoonful each of chocolate chips, chopped almonds, and cookie dough. Yes, I'm supposed to be in a meditative state during savasana, but I have a difficult time shutting down my brain. Distracting me even further was the lady who was breathing really loudly because she had a cold (not judging - I've been there).
You're probably wondering, "What in the world are you talking about and how does it relate to this post?"
Once I started contemplating the perfect frozen yogurt order, I thought about MSTBE and how he could never remember my standard order. It was always the same back then: half cake batter with cookie dough and half just chocolate with peanut butter cups. (Yes, I do like to overcomplicate my froyo orders.) That was the beginning of a train of thought that brought me back to this post.
I absolutely hope that I will meet a man that will care to pay attention enough to learn my frozen yogurt preferences. Or who will know that I like purses that have clean lines. Or who will make me laugh regularly. Or who will support me in everything that I do. Or who will build me up instead of tear me down. The list could go on and on.
But here's the difference between me now and me in the past. I'm not holding my breath waiting for that man to come around. I'm not putting my life on hold for him. I'm living my life. I'm doing what I want to be doing. I'm saving to buy a house. I'm loving my kids and my job and my family. I'm doing yoga and running. I'm working hard to make time for the people that mean the most to me.
I'm doing these things for a lot of reasons. I'm doing them because I want to be happy now; I'm not waiting to be happy when a certain man comes into my life. I'm doing them because there's no guarantee that this man will actually come into my life. In fact, at this point in my life, I don't believe that it's very likely that "he" will. So I'm living my life for me and for my kids. And it feels damn good!
I don't know if it's my personality or the place I'm at in my life. I love people; I thrive when I'm in social environments. But when I'm home, I need time to be alone and do my own thing. I recently learned that this makes me an ambivert: a weird combination of an introvert and an extrovert. So I don't want someone waiting for me when I get home. Literally. I DON'T WANT someone at home.
I feel like there's got to be more that I can say to get my point across. But isn't this enough? I'm sure that you might be wondering why I don't believe in marriage (or long term relationships of any sort, for that matter), but I'll save that for another time.
Happy Fourth!
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
I was laying down during savasana in yoga tonight, thinking about the frozen yogurt that I was going to pick up on my way home. I was contemplating the perfect combination: cake batter froyo with a spoonful each of chocolate chips, chopped almonds, and cookie dough. Yes, I'm supposed to be in a meditative state during savasana, but I have a difficult time shutting down my brain. Distracting me even further was the lady who was breathing really loudly because she had a cold (not judging - I've been there).
You're probably wondering, "What in the world are you talking about and how does it relate to this post?"
Once I started contemplating the perfect frozen yogurt order, I thought about MSTBE and how he could never remember my standard order. It was always the same back then: half cake batter with cookie dough and half just chocolate with peanut butter cups. (Yes, I do like to overcomplicate my froyo orders.) That was the beginning of a train of thought that brought me back to this post.
I absolutely hope that I will meet a man that will care to pay attention enough to learn my frozen yogurt preferences. Or who will know that I like purses that have clean lines. Or who will make me laugh regularly. Or who will support me in everything that I do. Or who will build me up instead of tear me down. The list could go on and on.
But here's the difference between me now and me in the past. I'm not holding my breath waiting for that man to come around. I'm not putting my life on hold for him. I'm living my life. I'm doing what I want to be doing. I'm saving to buy a house. I'm loving my kids and my job and my family. I'm doing yoga and running. I'm working hard to make time for the people that mean the most to me.
I'm doing these things for a lot of reasons. I'm doing them because I want to be happy now; I'm not waiting to be happy when a certain man comes into my life. I'm doing them because there's no guarantee that this man will actually come into my life. In fact, at this point in my life, I don't believe that it's very likely that "he" will. So I'm living my life for me and for my kids. And it feels damn good!
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