House Hunting

I ventured down to Virginia Saturday afternoon to find a place for us to live. Abby asked if she could meet me down there to help and I'm so thankful she did. I had to take two flights down there (which I don't recommend!) and by the time I got to Charlotte for my layover I was about in tears. The plane was extremely small and the flight attendant wouldn't let me keep the diaper bag with me. Alison had a tantrum the entire flight. Oh, I forgot to add that I had the brilliant idea that I would just take a small bag with me so I didn't have to pay extra to check a bag. My brilliant plan hit a small snag when I forgot about the 3oz limit and all of my toiletries were thrown away. So back to my adventures. I sat down in the Charlotte terminal about to whip out my phone to call Ben to tell him how miserable I was when a lady came up to me and said, "Why don't you come sit with me?" I had an annoyed look on my face as I looked up at the crazy lady when I realized it was Abby! She lied to me and told me that she had a direct flight to Virginia but had figured out my route and surprised me in Charlotte! It was the biggest blessing ever! The next leg of the trip went much smoother. Tim was with her because he was going down for some Coast Guard training, so he was very helpful in carrying my stuff and he was somewhat familiar with the area. After finding the rental car we went on a search for Target to replace my confiscated toiletries and we were all pleasantly surprised to find a Chik-fil-a right next to it. We had a wonderful dinner and then drove to our hosts house. We stayed with the Neel's, a retired couple that goes to Hope. They were wonderful hosts and had a gorgeous house that looked like it was cut right out of a magazine. They had a screened in porch in the middle of huge trees, overlooking a lake. There was a fireplace out there and we had fun spending an evening snuggled under blankets, eating popcorn and talking by the fire.I looked at 4 houses, a condo and a townhouse to rent. It was a small list but those were all of my options in our price range to rent. All of the houses were somewhat dumpy, but would work if it came down to desperately needing a place to live. Abby and I had the best laugh when we walked into one that was painted neon green with purple trim. The condo was a little more than we could afford and I originally took it off the list because George told me that you had to be over 55 to live there. The realtor explained that it originally was built for that purpose but took too long to built and lost that demographic so they opened it up to everyone. She encouraged me to look at it and I fell in love with it. It was right across the street from Ben's soon-to-be office and had a two car garage. It had a fireplace, attic space, was new and was a ranch (I like not having to deal with stairs and Alison). The realtor gave me an application and told me that it wouldn't be a problem getting our cats approved to live there and was sure we could talk them down on the price since it had been up for rent for a long time. The morning I left I looked at a townhouse that we had already turned an application in for but had only seen pictures online. It was right across from the pool, has 2 master suites, a loft and 2.5 bathrooms. It's only a couple of years old, has a nice kitchen and most importantly, is affordable. The down side to it is that it doesn't have a garage or storage or a yard. But there's parking right infront of the unit and there is a neighborhood connected to it that would be great for walks or bike rides. I put a call into the realtor for the condo and asked if we could get the cats approved and if they would consider taking the price down any. She called back later saying that they absolutely would not tolerate cats and I suppose were somewhat insulted I asked for a lower price because she was very rude. With a big fat "NO" and a door slammed in my face, I began to sulk. However, my spirits were slightly lifted when I found out that 52 widows are currently living in the complex. My thoughts immediately went to how awkward swimming in the community pool would be. So I sent the townhouse people a check so they could officially process our application yesterday. I almost called them out on the absurd amount of money they wanted to run our credit, but I learned my lesson in accidentally insulting people. I found that sometimes it's better to be naive. We run credit reports all the time at the bank and I know how much it really costs. I found this to also be true at trying to open up a bank account in Virginia. I was informed that they wouldn't open an account for me until I have a drivers license that has a Virginia address on it. The regulation requires an ID, address and date of birth...it absolutely does not matter where I live. If they think I'm suspicious then they can put a code on my account to monitor me but to refuse my service, well, I was speachless. Looking back, I really see God's hand holding me back. Oh, the things I should have said to that woman who's desk said she was the assistant manager.
I left Virginia with no home secured, no bank account and missing two sippy cups (I feel sorry for whoever finds them under the seats in the plane and rental car). I felt somewhat like a failure, but am prayerfully hopeful that the townhouse will come through.

Now, a little for your entertainment from non other that little Alison Louise. If you ever wonder how much kids really learn from Elmo, here's your proof. We have never shown Alison the sign for banana, probably because she can say the actual word, but this morning she got out of bed and said "nana" and then signed 'banana' and 'please'. Ben and I were wondering where she learned this from and I realized that there's a segment in Elmo that shows some signs and banana is one of them. I was even more amazed when I realized it's been awhile since she's seen the video.

I apologize for the whining at the end. She's saying, "I've asked for a banana a hundred times already and said please! Will you just give me breakfast already!"

Do you ever wonder how much Alison loves milk?