To say I’m a little stressed out right now would be a MASSIVE understatement.

About 30 minutes ago, we showed our house.  To sell it.  The lookers were in a tight schedule and really couldn’t wait any longer than today to look, so I gave in - knowing full well we’d be scrambling to clean everything up and to “stage” it.  So, with a few hours yesterday coupled with a few today (it was more like 12 hours total), we set about mowing, weedeating, dusting, mopping, sweeping, vacuuming, picking things up, and everything else that comes along with it.

We were finishing things up and had already realized there was no way we would get to a good deal of the things we’d meant to…the things that are the “extra touches” and such to help set that tone.  Then, there was a knock at the door.

I was already about a millimeter away from a full blown panic attack, but at that moment my heart jumped into my throat.  Beside me was a box full of books that I needed stored temporarily, a vacuum cleaner with its cord trailed haphazardly behind it and down the hall.  A riding toy sat in with the mix and in front of me was Steven bent over 5 grocery bags looking straight ahead at me like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh no.  Is that them?” We said in unison.

The clock still said we had a little over 30 minutes, and I wasted no time to run and change my shirt.  I made my way to the front door as they knocked once more, with Lorelei trailing behind me in nothing but a diaper and t-shirt with a big wet spot down the front.

They were early.

I asked for 5 minutes, hoping it’d at least be enough time to shove some things in closets as quickly as I could.  Then, went outside to stall them and “look at the property” while Steven finished up inside.

The toured the property and house, including our bedroom with the clean sheets sitting on top of a bare mattress, and grocery bags lined neatly along the countertop, and a white sheet thrown over the table as the makeshift table cover because we didn’t have time to make it to the store this morning.

And, on the couch sat Steven, covering (and soaking) up the cup full of water Lorelei spilled out of a no-spill sippy cup (she took the top off) just minutes before our guests arrived.

I’m thinking this whole selling your house and keeping it presentable 24/7  (while having a full-time job, 2 kids under 2, 2 cats*, and a really messy husband) is not going to be so much fun.

*By the way, we need to find a really great home for our 2 cats, Thomas and Valentino.  They’re awesome, really.  They’re declawed, fixed, and are super sweet…we just can’t take them with us to a 1 bedroom tiny apartment that doesn’t allow pets.  If you or someone you know would take them in, please let me know.  It breaks my heart to think about them going to a shelter or the Humane Society.

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