The PopUp has found a New Home...

Ok...apparently I am in some kind of 'sell it' mood.
Since The Husband is being shipped off to where ever it is that he is going...we can assume it is a Big Beach...if you get my drift...we've been purging the house to make things easier on me.
You see, we decided not to put our house on the market.  We had already cleared out the upstairs when we got The News, so we hosted our Yard Sale of The Century and pocketed well over $200.
Then we listed our beloved PopUp Camper on Craigslist...because it will literally sit in the driveway and rot for a year if someone doesn't show it some love.
I love that Camper.
We've had so much fun in that Camper.
The Toddler has had a blast camping in the PopPop.
But another family has purchased The Camper.
They have a five year old and an eighteen month old. 
It's an awesome playhouse.
They are excited!
The Toddler is NOT going to be amused when it pulls out of the driveway on Sunday.
The PopPop is going to a new home.
Just like my Blue Corolla (which I have not blogged about the sell of that yet...but will).
And most of our stuff upstairs has found new homes.
Sit still long enough around here, I'll slap a price tag on you.
But the PopPop is going...and it makes me sad.
But it will be OK when we rent the 2 bedroom ocean front mega condo at the resort in Myrtle Beach for a week next month.
It has indoor plumbing AND a huge jacuzzi tub in the master bathroom.
And a balcony.
And I won't have to run a hose outside and plug it into a sewer port to wash dishes.
So maybe I will get over the PopPop leaving rather easily.
We'll get another camper when he gets home...one with a real bathroom. 
That'd be awesome.

Dollar Deals

Today was the Big Yard Sale.
Since we no longer are Moving...we just called it a 'Come Get This Junk' Sale.
I advertised heavily on Craigslist.
Multiple times.
Had one ad flagged and removed by a woman, my guess is that it was her, because I wouldn't allow her to come preview it earlier in the week.
Uh huh.  Nope.
So we rolled out of bed at 6am, started dragging stuff out into the driveway.
At 7am, we had our first customers, even though we were not open until 8am.
The woman acted like I was WalMart.  She wanted blue sheets and a blue comforter.
Uh, yeah.
What we have out here, is what we have for sale.
She then asked if I had any green bath rugs.
Uh, yeah.  No.
I have yellow.
??????
Then she asked for a more manly looking comforter.
Really? What are we doing here?  It's a Yard Sale.  You see it out here, it's for sale.  Take your pick.
The first two hours were a mad house of pickers and grinners.
Some sweet little old ladies looking for a deal.
Some strange old men, alone, browsing.
A woman with short shorts, belly shirt and a pack of kids (it was about 40 degrees outside) that decimated my stuffed animals boxes, and then bought nothing.
Then 'Those People' showed up.
They've been to my Yard Sales before.  I recognized them right off the bat.
She is a 6 foot tall Amazon of a woman, with a cigarette and a cane.
He is about 5 feet tall, with a cigarette, braided beard, and a cane.
And they have five kids.
Last time they were here, they ran a racket and the kids were sneaking stuff to the car that they hadn't paid for.
This time I was ready.  I had The Husband cover them the whole time.
I got $20 out of them for a handful of stuff.
And Short Man with Beard kept adding everything wrong.
Five and Five are Ten.
Not Seven.
Funny how that works.
After they left, things slowed down and we counted our gain.  $160 in an hour and a half!
Whoot!
I thought for sure the Toddler's clothing and toys would go first.
Nope.  Didn't sell a bit of it.
We did sell all of my husband's fleece pullovers, coats and jackets.
All the video game stuff.
Comforter sets.
Sheets ( I would never in my life buy sheets or comforters at Yard Sales, but to each their own).
Towels (again a little personal)
Then the little old lady showed up that berated me for not advertising it in the paper.  She only read the paper.  Didn't 'know anything about no Craigslist'.  On and on and on and on and on about advertising in the paper.
I'll jump right on that...nope.
And last but not least, the old couple that bought a few little things, but kept saying how 'they weren't looking for no dollar deals'.
Ohkay.
Whatever you say.
I shut it down after that.
And we hauled the leftover to Goodwill.
And the Goodwill guys were a bit amused at our stack of stuff in the back of the truck.
Cause it was still a lot of stuff.
But $230 later, who cares?!
By the time we closed shop...we made $230!
Out of just stuff we dragged outside and set up a sign for.
This could get addicting.
And no one bought the big Mikasa bowl we got as a wedding gift, that I never took out of the box.
That I had $5 on.
Weird.

Help Wanted

I almost feel like I have been browsing the ‘Personals’ pages…or an online dating service.

I feel a bit judgmental and nosey.

I am also just getting a bit desperate and aggravated.

You see, I am looking for a cleaning lady.

Because I am NOT going through this freaking Deployment without some help.

I nearly lost my mind the last time, and I won’t do it this time.

I will NOT work 40 hours a week, drive 10 hours a week commute, take care of The Toddler, The Dog, The Cat and The House…and then get up at 5am on Saturday so that I can speed clean and half ass get the house in order before The Toddler rouses up and needs to be tended to.  So then I can go get groceries, run the errands, do something fun with The Toddler, and get other things done.

Thankfully, I am NOT doing this Deployment neither pregnant or with a newborn, like the last freaking time.

Can you tell I have really fond memories of 2007-2008?  REALLY fond memories of that nightmare of a year.

So I logged into a website that allows folks to post their profiles for childcare (nope not using that one…we have a great babysitter), housekeeping, pet care (if they want The Dog, I might give him up before it is over)…to stalk a cleaning service. 

I paid my $35 monthly fee.

I have contacted five profiles.

I just want them to scrub down my tubs and sinks.  Do my floors and general dusting.  I'm not asking for much.  Just some help. Every other week. 

ONLY ONE has contacted me back in the three days since I contacted them.

ONLY ONE.

Oh, wait TWO.  One replied back ‘that’s not too far’. 

Uhm.  Do  you want to come give me an estimate, or what?

She hasn’t replied back.

I’m checking out their pictures. 

I’m reading their profiles.

I’m judging the heck out of these people that I have never met.

All in the hopes that I can find someone that doesn’t skeeve me out, to come clean my house, while I am not home.

Well....THAT just changes EVERYTHING

Ok...I'm a Type A, gotta have it laid out, planning kind of person.

The Husband is being Deployed.

Yup, the BIG D.

So there goes the house selling.  Which is fine.  I guess.  At least our upstairs is nice and neat now.

Then I have to explain to The Toddler everyday, that Daddy is at Drill...for the next year.

Missing Daddy.

Daddy Missing Us.

Daddy Missing out on stuff.

And there goes another year of our lives.

He has less than ninety days notice.  So this should be a whole lotta freaking fun.

Here we go again.

Crap Crap and MORE Craaaaaaap

It really should be illegal for two adults to have this much CRAAAP in their upstairs closets and attic. 
It's shameful is what it is.
Dropped The Toddler at daycare this morning, made the mad dash back towards home to meet The Realtor at 9am to check out one of the houses that we are stalking.
By the way, the Rent to Own house is still for Rent. 
But we were looking at another house.
I'll call her Francesca.  It's a pretty name for a pretty old lady of a house.
White two story colonial.  Dressed to the hilt in very nice (The Husband did not like it) wallpaper in the foyer and featuring lovely hardwood floors, two car garage, a backyard and gardens that had been maintained lovingly by someone who loved Irises and Lillies and Perennials. 
She featured a stunning cut crystal chandelier in the hallway, that led to the world's smallest kitchen.  Francesca liked to garden, not cook apparently.
Big living rooms, good sized upstairs bedrooms. 
Tiled bathrooms.
Nice sized home.
The Husband is not a fan.
Won't look past the wallpaper (which by the way, is really really pretty), or the fact that we need to upgrade the windows and the heatpump.
He wont' budge because the kitchen is TINY.
Really tiny.
Like I am still trying to figure out how to get a refrigerator in there...that kind of tiny.
But I would do it...because I think Francesca is pretty.
And The Realtor liked her too.
The Husband is not a fan, because it isn't shiny and new.
After seeing Francesca, we ventured around the corner to the Party Girl house.
Party Girl was a nice Rancher, with a full on full tilt Party Basement.  Which The Huband loved.  I am still trying to figure out the half assed upgrades upstairs with the grey cabinet doors in the kitchen, the weird semi granite/not really granite coutertops, the weird tile that didn't match ANYTHING, the half assed painted paneling in the den, and the cracks in the ceiling.  Oh yeah.  The Master Bath was super small.  The bedrooms were small.  The guest bath WAS HUGE.  Huh?
Then finding the laundry room required a freaking trail of breadcrumbs.  We'd missed it during the initial tour.
Where oh where is the laundry room?
Down the stairs to the basement, across the party room, past the half assed bar that was a cross between a bar at a Scottish pub, a flea market find, and a bar at some dive at the beach.  I just can't describe it.  Keep around the back of the bar, past the furnace, keep going, down the dark hallway, around another corner...whoops, those are water heaters (yes, I said HEATERS), keep going, and then there was the laundry.
What the Hell?!
You needed a passport to go do laundry.
The Realtor was not amused at the 'upgrades' and thought the house was way overpriced.
So we left Party Girl, drove back by Francesca as I looked lovingly on her trimmed hedges, and then home, to strip the upstairs closets.
In our defense, we have not cleaned out our closets since the year before The Toddler was born.  So pretty much almost five years.
We've crammed and jostled everything in them to 'hide' them when company was coming.
There is just STUFF in there.
So we dragged it out, and down the stairs, and out in the storage building.
And I am holding the BIGGEST YARD SALE ever next weekend.
There are maternity clothes, baby gear, weird hunting stuff, seat covers, pillows, comforters, sheets sheets sheets and more sheets.  Why do I have all of these sheets?  There are two beds in the house, and one is a queen and one is a full.  No need to have ten sets of freaking sheets!
And maxi pads.
Swear.
Every purse, duffel bag, shopping bag, canvas bag, I opened...it contained maxi pads, panti-liners, or tampons, or all three.
Apparently, I have a stash against the Revolution.
I will be able to barter with my Feminine Hygiene Hidden Stockpile.
For anything...
It's crazy.
There was even one in my briefcase.
Animatronic toys: You know the ones that sing, and dance, and are obnoxious after about five seconds.
I have an ENTIRE box full of those that I am going to put a sticker on the box that says '$5 covers all!'  And the grandparents of The Toddler can suck it.  We have a horse that sings Jingle Bells, a weird bear, a white bear that has a palsy when it sings, a duck, a chicken, a rabbit that does something and also looses a lot of fuzz...and on and on and on.  They have to go.
I was impressed by the minimum amount of trash we pulled out of there.  I do have some sorting and shredding to do, but most everything is sellable or giveable.
So bring them on!
I'll make ya a deal...$1 a bag, go for it!  Nickel of that onesie...it's yours!  Five dollars for the Barry Manilow CD collection...you got a steal!
WOW...I think the house lifted three feet off its foundation when we unloaded this trove of treasure.
Now to find my masking tape and sharpie!