Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Legoland 2016!


I took time off in July to get a little time in with Tyler before school started. At first I thought we'd just do a little staycation. But the beach kept calling to me. I asked Tyson to take the week off too, and we started thinking about Arizona vacation spots.  And then Turtle died. When I told Tyler about Turtle dying (and sharing stories of all the trouble young Turtle and Vader used to get into), he cried, he laughed, and the next day he asked if we could take Vader to the dog beach, pointing out that Tyrien had never been to the dog beach before. 

I looked up potential rentals, bracing myself to not be able to bring a dog despite our intentions. Surprisingly, I found a beach rental near the dog beach that would accept our dog. Spoke to Tyson, and booked it. Got Vader vaccinated for the kinds of diseases dogs tend to get from dog beaches. And then Tyson pointed out that even if we left at 4am, Vader would still suffer when we drove through Yuma. He'd be in a crate in the back of the pickup truck. It could turn into a little hot box. He might not survive. 

It's been a tough year financially, so I couldn't justify renting a minivan. We decided to go without Vader. Heartbreaking for me, but everyone else seemed okay with it. 

We left our house at 7:30am. Somehow that meant we didn't leave Tucson until 8:25am. Still, we made awesome time, getting to Ocean Beach at 2:15, except the beach house wasn't ready yet. So we went to Ocean Beach Brewery, which was brand new. We sat on the rooftop terrace, somehow making it through the meal without allowing Tyrien to dive over the roof or crash through the glass barricades. The beer was good, the food was better. 

Tyrien had a terrible infection, so he wasn't allowed in water until he healed. The first night, I thought we could just walk along the beach. Tyrien managed to fall in and soak himself within 10 minutes. So based on that experience, we decided to stay dry the next day by going to Legoland. 




Tyler and I first rode a helicopter ride. Next, he went off to drive a car.


This car was stationary, but a huge hit with little kids. Tyrien wasn't thrilled about his older brother being so helpful and supportive.

Tyler flew his own airplane next. This was the ride where I finally took Tyrien up to the 34 inch bar, thinking maybe, with shoes on, he could pass. It was obvious he could not. Now we know why they let kids under 3 in for free.


We stumbled across the Star Wars exhibit. Tyler was thrilled to find his favorite droid.



Thrilled. He just wasn't happy that I told him he had to stand next to R2 instead of right in front of him.

He decided to have a private conversation with Boba Fett.



And a private training session with Master Yoda.


I don't think I could ever stand so casually next to a clone trooper.

And here's my idea of heaven.


I'm with Vader, I was contemplating decapitating the boy, too.




Wait, were we in San Diego or DC?


After lunch, we went back to ride mode. Which meant one of us entertained Tyrien while the other waited in a long line. I found a playground for Tyrien, except he seemed to think this pole was the best part.



I finally convinced him to play on the actual playground structures...




Tyler and Tyson returned from their ride, and Tyler built this structure, defending his pieces from would-be bandits, and showing surprise when another kid actually brought him supplies and offered to help.


Later we found this cool ball play area. It was two stories. The structure to Tyrien's left sucked balls up and deposited them on the second floor. The structure to the right sucked balls up and blew them all over the first floor, like a rain shower. I think the look of trepidation on his face here is because he thought I was going to tell him it was time to leave. This was his favorite place. We stayed a long, long time.

 Tyson and Tyler went for the carnival ride. Lame. I held out for the Technic roller coaster, which was actually really fun. Tyler described it as "A little bit scary." He informed me as we climbed the first hill, "I am NOT going to put my arms up. I just hold onto the bar." I kept my arms up. It was great. My first real roller coaster ride in years.


Tyson finished up the day by taking Tyler on the Ninjago ride.  We were at this park from 11:30am until 7:30pm. We were worried about getting the kids dinner before they fell asleep. It occurred to me to call Pizza Port and order carryout. We had a Carlsbad and a meat lovers' pizza. Hooray for Pizza Port, Tyson dropped me off, I walked in and got to go right to the front, the food was ready, I walked out and Tyson was waiting for me across the street, and we were able to eat in the comfort of the beach house. The food hit the spot and was the perfect way to end the day.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

The Quest for a New Home, Part II (LOTR Style)




After stopping off at our storage units (by this time, we were up to three), we  made the long journey (16 miles) to our rental home. Smack dab in the middle of Crackville Heights. It was a cute house, built in the 40's, adobe, with thick walls. There was a tiny dining room table, a kitchen with a huge island, and a small living room with a TV. There was the narrowest hallway I'd ever seen, a bedroom for Tyler, a laundry room, and then the master bedroom, which included the only door to the backyard. But the backyard was huge and well contained. Tyson and his cousin James had put the chest freezer in the master bedroom. The master bathroom had red sinks and black vanity. The guest bathroom had  a bathtub. Our items took over the living room and kitchen - we never saw the island because all of our stuff was on it. Tyson let me know that a friendly neighbor had stopped by earlier to greet him, saying "Don't worry, I'm armed! Let me know if you need anything!" Somehow that wasn't reassuring.

The house wasn't childproofed, and Tyrien had just learned to crawl. It seemed like I couldn't walk down the hallway carrying him without bashing his head into a wall. We set up the pack-n-play in the master bedroom because that's where it fit. But remember how I said Tyrien was screaming his head off the entire time I was mopping the floors of our old house? It turned out, he took seeing our home converted into a vacant house had terrified him, and in the rental house, nighttime seemed to be terrifying to him. He was still recuperating from his hospital stay. In retrospect, he probably had another ear infection and we were just too stressed to realize it. All I know is, he cried more than he has ever cried in his life at night in that rental house. Every night he would end up in our bed, nursing. He nursed so hard so often that he was soaking through double-stuffed diapers. Each morning around 4am he would finally fall back asleep, and I would sneak away from him to go climb in bed with Tyler, so I could have enough room to fall asleep.

We thought we'd only have to stay for a week. We taught Tyler to do his homework at the tiny dining room table. We lost worksheets regularly. We had re-routed our checks to Tyson's mom's house - now our mail was taking weeks to arrive. We crated Vader daily. He was as stressed as Tyrien, and got sick often, in the crate. There was one rug that was non-washable, the homeowner wrote in her instructions, "This rug is special to me, and is not washable. Please refrain from bringing drinks in the bedroom. Please do not spill anything on it." Vader got sick on it. So much for getting our deposit back.

Things went awry with the Holmes House. Of course they did.

Oddly, a random real estate agent attended our home inspectection. He wasn't the seller's agent, and he was a blabbermouth. He pointed out problems with the house - "All the irrigation needs to be dug up and re-done." "Thieves broke in and vandalized the living room and kitchen." "Someone stole the A/C compressor." Seriously. One of the A/C units had been stolen from the back yard. It is hard to inspect an A/C when it has been stolen. We needed roof repairs. We needed skylight repairs.

In an attempt to close on time, the sellers decided  to give us cash to cover the cost of the repairs. We made every effort to close on time. Then the loan guy dropped the ball, and didn't get the papers sent to the sellers in time. Our closing was pushed back even farther. Debbie inquired as to whether we could negotiate a possession prior, pointing out that we could transfer our renter's insurance from Crackville Heights to this house, protecting the seller from further insurance claims. Plus having vehicles at the house would decrease the likelihood than anyone else would break in. The sellers were cranky. After all, they had bought the house for $100k more than they were selling it for. Debbie had negotiated them down by over 10k, and negotiated for them to pay our closing costs and the repairs. We were insisting on another A/C inspection after they replaced the stolen compressor, which wasn't covered by their insurance since the house was vacant. They were pissed that now we weren't closing on time.

So we had to rent the Crackville Heights house for yet another week - the third week. By now, we had spent more than we would have at the condo or apartment. But, hindsight's 20/20, and we did appreciate the big yard and how close we were to work and school.

There was lots of unusual traffic in the area at all hours of the night, and plenty of GhettoBird activity, but everyone left us alone, and no one broke in.

We finally got to sign the closing paperwork. Debbie met Tyson to give him keys. Tyson spent that first night re-keying. It was only then that we realized just how many doors this property had. 17. 24 locks to change. He texted me at 2am asking, "I have like 7 more doors to go. Can I stop working on this now and just come home?"





















That weekend, Tyson's dad and his friend John came to help us move everything from storage to the our new house. Tyson's mom helped me move everything from Crackville Heights. Tyson had to rent another truck with a lift. Tyler loved operating the lift and coordinating our movements. Tyrien mostly just played with Anne Marie.

Vader was in heaven. The moment I let him in the backyard, he ran out, jumped right over the divider wall, and ran around the yard.

He later escaped the backyard. Fortunately I had sneakers on. I heard Tyson say, "Your dog just left." I took off running after him, dropping my phones as I ran, and finally caught up to him as he marked his territory three blocks away. He sure can run fast for being so old.

I tried configuring our couch several different ways in our living room. Our couch that was perfect for our small little Treece house is too big for our much larger Holmes house. It is weird.

I told Tyson we should offer to buy John dinner for helping us all day. Instead, John said that his wife wanted to bring us dinner becaues we'd been moving all day. So we spent our first evening in our new home, unpacking and enjoying the company of good friends. Tyson's mom stayed long after they left, until I finally gave up trying to stay awake - I went to bed on the futon at 1am, and found Tyson sleeping on the couch in the morning. Not exactly how I'd imagined waking up in our new home, but we got right back to work unpacking.

Tyrien, still seeming to have some lingering trauma from the hospital and multiple moves, attempted to crawl after me in this house. Ah, but it has multiple passageways. Whichever way he was traveling, I could go a different way to evade him in my hurry to get work done. He cried alot for the first couple of weeks. He got very fast at crawling. He continued to lose weight.

Vader was struggling too. He was still getting sick often, not eating much, was happy to sleep in his crate, and had lost alot of weight. Then he hurt his leg one night, and couldn't seem to recover.

Tyler was fine. Each morning after he was dressed and had eaten breakfast, he'd go out front and explore the front yard, just beyond the wall, watching lizards and birds, and checking out the different plants.

We had tons of mosquitos. The grass was super long. We met one neighbor when he followed a stray dog onto our property, and Tyson helped him rescue the dog and contact the owners. Another neighbor came over with gifts for the boys.  I loved the short commute to daycare, school, and work.

Just two weeks after we moved in, Tyler had his tonsillectomy/adenoidectomy. We felt so relieved to be in our new home for this! I took the week off from work to hang with him during his recovery. He asked that we keep Tyrien home too, to cheer him  up. I got Vader medicine for his leg, and he perked right up. Tyrien learned to either keep up with me as I walked through the house. Tyler was just happy to eat popsicles and watch TV all week. And our house began to feel like a home.


Tyler's "Goodbye Tonsils" Cake

Anxiously waiting

Still loopy.
(The quilt was a gift from little old ladies who make them to help comfort kids after surgery.)

So much rain!

Checking out the rain



An artist is inspired.


Our first night of entertaining. Lavender citronella candles and basil to ward off mosquitos.

The Quest for a New Home (LOTR style) Part I

Before Tyrien was born, before he was even conceived, Tyson expressed that he did not want to raise two children in our little house. The third bedroom was too hot in the summer, too close to the street, and we were incredibly fed up with the no parking situation.

As soon as Tyson graduated and landed his post-college job, I contacted my old loan officer, who put me in touch with one of her favorite real estate agents, Debbie. Debbie came and looked at our house, said even with the no-parking rule, she thought it was sell fast, and told us to depersonalize it and get it clean. So we pared down our belongings, put them in storage, and made plans to paint the living room and start some repairs. And then we got sick. And sick again. And sick a third time. And then suddenly, I was too tired and too unwieldly to help with painting or repairs. We resigned ourselves to staying put until after Tyrien was born. And after Tyrien was born, well, babies have so much STUFF.

Then Tyler won the lottery to go to BASIS for elementary school. That re-motivated us. We re-depersonalized, painted the living room and hallway, touched up a few items, used Debbie's favorite cleaning lady for a "top to bottom" deep clean, with Debbie taking pictures immediately after. She made our house look beautiful, and highlighted the jogging path and trees right behind our home - something we would never have thought of. But then Tyrien discovered solid foods - suddenly it was even harder to keep our house clean. We gave it a couple of weeks. Then on July 3rd at 11pm, Debbie listed it. On July 4th at 2pm we had our first showing.

Debbie stopped by at 1pm to set up the lockbox. She came in and was appalled at the disarray. Tyler and Tyrien were sleeping, I was frantically cleaning, and Tyson, for some reason, was taking the opportunity to sort and shred old gift cards. I reassured her that we would be out on time. By 1:50 our house was spotless, will all evidence of a dog and a baby hidden in my car, and we headed for a park. A park with no shade. In Tucson in July. We prayed the house would sell quickly.

The buyer was interested. Texts flew back and forth regarding the parking problem and our secret remedy (Hey we don't live there anymore. Now we'll say it. Picasso Street.) Somehow amidst the texts, I missed the one about our next showing being at 9am the next day. So imagine our surprise at 9am on a Sunday of a holiday weekend to hear people trying to get into our house through the front door. We called Debbie, who told us to leave the property immediately. We made a mad dash to hide evidence of baby and dog, crammed everything into my car, and drove to midtown to meet Debbie and look at houses. With Vader. I was afraid that, since my car had to stay running, someone would steal it. Debbie calmly reminded me that people were not likely to try to attempt to steal my car with a 60lb, stressed out German Shepherd/Rottweiler mix in it.

We looked at 8 different houses that day. Most of the houses were built in the late 40s or early 50s, had outdated wiring, and some had structural concerns. The last house she took us to was further east than we cared to see, but she convinced us, and it ended up being our favorite. Huge back yard, covered patio, a pool, a fireplace for Tyler, covered parking that could be converted into a garage, a room that could be converted into our future teenagers' man cave, huge master bedroom, huge bedrooms that were protected from the street, an outside area that could be transformed into a brewshack, and my mandatory view of the mountains from the kitchen sink.

We got an offer on our house, from the first showing. We dubbed the buyer "The Entertainer" based on her love of throwing parties. She offered our list price, but wanted us to pay closing costs. At first we were shocked, and Debbie had to explain that in a buyers' market, sellers often have to pay closing costs, and that this was actually a good deal. My sister asked, "Are you seriously considering NOT selling your home over such a small percentage of your asking price? Seriously. We're talking 3%." So we accepted the offer. But the buyer immediately backed out, saying the journey from the secret parking area was too arduous for her guests. Hence we renamed her, "The Canasta Player." We resolved ourselves to keeping our house show ready.

The next day I was feeling cranky that we didn't even have a for sale sign at our house. Upon my return from work, there was a huge for sale sign in the middle of our front yard. That Debbie. She's on top of it.

That night, she called to say she had an agent wanting to preview the property for a buyer with limited viewing opportunities - he was serving in the Marine Reserves. We referred to him as "The Marine." As inconvenient as it was, we made a plan for me to race home from work, pack up all evidence of dog and baby, while Tyson picked up the kids and dinner, then meet up for dinner in the park. We pulled it off, and decided to commit to Debbie that each day, we would leave the house show ready with the exception of Vader, his dog bed, and his water bowl, and that as long as she let us know by 4pm, we could have him out of the house by 5:30. That meant driving around with Tyrien's high chair seat and bouncer chair crammed into the passenger seat of my car each day. It is a very strange feeling to drive that way on a daily basis.

That weekend, The Marine came through for us with an offer similar to the Canasta Player's - our asking price, with us paying closing costs. We accepted without hesitation. No way did we want to keep going with the mad dash routine.

I thought the hard part was over. I had no idea how many times I would have to return home during the day for inspections, appraisals, repairs, and a final walkthrough. Tyson was new at his job, so he couldn't help. Anne Marie was in Phoenix on an extended trip, caring for an injured friend. It was all up to me.

One item was painting the fascia before the home inspector could get a look at it. Debbie hooked us up with a painter. Oddly, some man claiming to be "Scott Walker from Texas" called Debbie at 6:30am, claiming he had been sent to paint the entire house white. We googled his phone number and learned he was actually one of our neighbors who was operating a painting business out of his home. So that made even less sense - he would know that our HOA would never allow a house to be painted white. I became paranoid that someone would paint our house white while we were at work, forcing us to pay them to repaint it to the color it needed to be. We moved forward with Debbie's preferred painting company. They showed up without notice one full day earlier than scheduled. I was supposed to be grateful. Except that meant yet another mad dash from work to home, because the back gate was locked, and despite me giving them the code to get into the garage, well, Vader wasn't letting them into the house. Did I mention I work 16 miles away?

I got home, unlocked the gate, but noticed Vader was a disaster, clawing at the sliding glass door and the garage door, drooling everywhere. I decided to put him in our master bedroom, turn on both clock radios, shut the blinds, and leave his water bowl in the bathroom. I thought he'd be more comfortable there. Tyson called while I was on my way back to work, and informed me,"That's a bad idea." Meanwhile, Pam from work had called me to let me know that one of our out-of-town program attendees who had dementia and a guardian had wandered away from our site, and the guardian wanted him found. Choice of protecting my home from my nervous dog, or preventing my program from ending up on the news with a silver alert? Silver alert prevention plan wins. I drove the 16 miles back, plus an extra mile looking for the man. Saw him, parked ahead of him, casually approached him, chatted like there was nothing out of the ordinary, and walked with him to his destination, then went back to my car, and drove back to work. Silver alert averted. Forgot all about the frightened animal trapped in my house.

Sure enough, Tyson got home to discover a destroyed carpet. At least he left the door intact. I called Debbie in a panic. She had a guy. Of course she had a guy, she always has a guy! I called the guy. He called me back the next morning, on a Saturday. Appraisal on Monday at 5pm? He'd send a guy to stretch the carpet at 4:30 that day. I pleaded for 4:00. He said the guy would try to get there as early as possible. I resolved myself to being home by 4pm.

Sure enough, the carpet stretcher arrived at 4pm on Monday! He did a great job. So great, that Tyson inspired me to ask him to stretch the carpet in another room. No problem, he said. At 4:45, he announced that he had cracked a tile. Ouch! Cursing myself for ever asking him to fix carpet that Debbie hadn't ever noticed needed to be fixed, I anxiously watched as he quickly glued the tile down. Of course the home inspector arrived early. Everyone who needed inside my house arrived early! Vader was still in the house, Debbie was on the phone telling me I had to let the inspector and agent in, now, so I answered the door, holding Vader's coller, and stood face to face with the agent himself. I committed the cardinal sin of speaking to the agent, blurting, "I was getting some carpet stretched and the carpet guy cracked a tile!" The home inspector immediately asked, "Which tile? So we don't step on it." I uttered as few words as possible, knowing that the agent must be wondering, "What the hell did she do to the carpet?", packed Vader into my car, and met the carpet guy in the cul-de-sac to hand him a check, so at least I wouldn't come face to face with the buyer and risk blurting out any more damming information, then drove, yet again, to the closest park, passing a big black truck driven by a young man with a military haircut. No doubt, that was the buyer. Phew.

Debbie felt confident that our house was in good shape for the home inspection, and recommended we move forward on making an offer on the house we liked.

Unlike my previous real estate agent, Debbie liked getting the inside scoop on sellers and their motivations. This seller was using range pricing, and was living out of state. He had already come down in price. His real estate agent blabbed to ours that he was under water on the house, just wanted out, and $260 was his bottom line. We felt sorry for him, so we offered $263. That SOB countered for $267! We were cranky, but countered his counter, agreeing on $265. We began setting up our own inspections for "the 8th St. Property."

Meanwhile, based on his initial home inspection, the Marine scheduled a termite inspection, a roofing inspection, and an appraisal. All on different days. Vader couldn't be home for two of the three. Anne Marie was still in Phoenix, and Tyson was still the new guy at work. I apologetically scheduled more time off from work, including the time needed to drive 16 miles each time. Somehow, the inspectors/appraisers all showed up at least 30 minutes early for their appointments, somehow always while I was in the midst of nursing Tyrien, and needing to get both Tyrien and Vader out of the house.

The home inspection for the 8th St. Property didn't go so well. According to the inspector, the seller had "rolled out the welcome wagon" to termites by leaning wood trellises up against the house, perfect dirt to wood conduit. The HVAC system was mismatched and too small for the house. The roof had blisters in the coating. There was no hot water to the main bathroom. There was no water to the exterior washer hookups. The interior washer/dryer hook ups would not accomodate our washer and dryer. And by the way, somehow there was no sink in the bathroom with the washer/dryer hookups??? How on earth had we failed to notice this? And whoever heard of a bathroom in a mother-in-law suite that had a shower, a toilet, and washer/dryer hookups, yet no sink? What mother-in-law uses a toilet and doesn't want to wash her hands after? WTF??????????

The electrical system had serious issues. The HVAC system had the issues above mentioned, and the house had chase registers in the floor - why on earth would anyone living in Tucson want chase registers in the floor? (Tucson residents spend much more time and money on air conditioning than heating. Registers should be as high as possible.) The water heater on the master bath was improperly installed and damaged. The pool had issues too. An inexperienced pool maintenance company bypassed the amazing but broken in-floor filtration system, throwing in a new creepy-crawly vacuum system instead, failing to understand that the water was routed the wrong direction to work with a creepy crawly. The motor needed replaced, the sand gravel filter needed replaced, and the plaster was near end-of-life. And we knew the seller was under water.

We got estimates to upgrade the electrical  system, repair the roof, replace the HVAC and add a mini-split, knowing we would most likely need to pay for all of this ourselves.

Then the unthinkable happened. The seller's agent informed out agent that the seller simply could not afford to pay his closing costs. In fact, he could not afford to sell the house. Instead, he was unilaterally canceling the contract. WTF??? Debbie asked how on earth we had gotten this far in the process before he realized he couldn't afford his closing costs. His agent admitted she had never made him a cost sheet. We asked, "Don't they realize that a legally binding contract is legal? And binding? How is it that a buyer must put forth earnest money, and if they cancel the contract, they lose that money, but a seller can cancel the contract and lose nothing?"

Even with all it's problems, we still really, really loved that house. The layout was perfect for our needs. There was so much potential. We had continued looking at every new listing, thinking we'd experience buyer's remorse, and we hadn't. We hadn't liked anything better than this house. And time was running out - things were going perfectly smoothly at our house, so it was bound to close on time.

We met with a real estate attorney to see about suing for specific performance of the contract. He kindly explained to us that while we could do that, we still couldn't actually own the house, because we wouldn't be able to get a free and clear title on the house. Great paradox. We could rent from the seller and wait to see if the bank would let us do a short sale. But of course there were no guarantees that the bank would accept our offer. We didn't want to risk putting Tyler through getting to live in the house of his dreams and having it taken away.

Tyson's mom generously offered to pay all of the seller's closing costs so we could still buy the property. Such a kind offer, but I would never be comfortable accepting that level of generosity. Fortunately, Debbie intervened, gently explaining that between our closing costs, the seller's closing costs, our down payment, and all those repairs, we would end up investing more in the house than it would be worth. We would be in the very position he was struggling to get out of. I am very grateful to her for preventing us from making that mistake. We reluctantly agreed to let go of our dream.

However, we still needed a place to live. Debbie inquired and learned that no, we couldn't rent our house back from the buyer. We started looking at short term rentals. Guess what? There aren't many places that will rent month to month to a family with a 50+lb dog! Especially on three weeks' notice. The one option we found with a yard was a month to month rental for $2200-2400 per month. And we'd have to pay to store all of our furniture.

We asked if the 8th St. owner could help us pay for these expenses, and were told no. After all, "you'd have to pay a mortgage somewhere." Okay, but our current mortage was only $790 a month. Not $2200! Poor Debbie was still just trying to get our earnest money back and our inspection fees returned. She didn't even think we could get our legal fees covered. Once again, the seller was screwing us over, with no repurcussions.

Finally, the realty agency offered that they would return our earnest money, our inspection fees, AND our legal fees, IF, and only if, we signed an agreement to hold harmless and never complain about both the seller, and his agent. I didn't want to sign. I wanted to file a complaint. But with rental expenses looming, we needed that money back. I asked Debbie, "I understand they want to protect their agency and their agent, but why are they working so hard to protect the seller?" She suddenly got curious, and started doing some research. It turned out, the seller was also a licensed real estate agent, (failed to disclose THAT!), previously employed by that same realty company, and had actually graduated in the same class as his real estate agent. There were photographs of them in the office together! You would think that between two licensed real estate agents, they would have figured out his closing costs, and known that you can't unilaterally cancel a legally binding contract!

Debbie called the broker with all those details. Amazingly, they still held firm. They would only release our earnest money and pay us back for our fees if we signed the agreement promising to hold them harmless and never file a complaint. I wanted to prevent these a-holes from screwing over anyone else ever again. But we needed that money. We checked with our attorney. He assured us that if we signed, and still reported them to the overseeing body, we could be facing a lawsuit. I talked to some of the most ethical people I know, and even they said we should prioritze our family's needs and sign the piece of paper, and retrieve our money.

We found an apartment manager that felt sorry for us. She could rent us a furnished unit for $1400 a month, plus utilities, plus a nonrefundable pet deposit, among other fees. No yard, but a dog run on the property. She was very kind. But those expenses were going to add up quickly.

Our real estate agent found us a semi-furnished condo, for only $1000 a month, but we'd need to set up utilities, there was no yard, and there was a scary spiral staircase.

 Debbie suggested we start looking at hotels. Those were running $1600 a month, no utilities, but no yards, either, and limited kitchens.

Debbie pushed us to look at more houses. We didn't think there was anything we'd like in our price range. She encouraged us to look at higher priced homes, knowing that the busy season was winding down, so sellers would be likely to come down in price. We sent Tyler to spend the day with his grandmother, and resigned to carting Tyrien around. We looked at 11 houses that day. One of them inspired me to say, "I could live in this house." Tyson wasn't sure. We felt grateful that Tyrien slept through most of the day, though we noticed he looked flushed and seemed to have a cold.

That night, at about 3am, Tyrien woke crying inconsolably. I tried to nurse him in bed, and could feel his stomach slapping against me. That was weird. I brought him out to the couch to nurse, turning on the light to force myself to stay awake. I realized he was having difficulty nursing because he couldn't breathe out of his nose. I tried using the bulb syringe, and he still couldn't nurse. And his stomach was still moving so hard, and he couldn't stop crying. I brought him to Tyson, turning on the bathroom late to wake Tyson up. I showed him how fast Tyrien was breathing. Tyson thought he was breathing like that because he had a fever. He checked it, and we gave him Tylenol and tried to help cool him. But he continued breathing that fast. I called the pediatrician's after hours service, and he contacted the nurse. While I was waiting, it occurred to me to count Tyrien's breaths per minute. 80. 80! Sure enough, when the nurse called, she calmly stated, "Anything over 50 breaths per minute means he needs to be seen. Drive him to the closest emergency room."

It felt so strange, getting dressed in the middle of the night and calmly packing a bag. I brought a few diapers, figuring we might have a long wait time. Tyson offered to go with us, then remembered that we had Tyler. I reassured him that Tyrien probably would just need a breathing treatment and then I could drive in to work, grab my laptop, and spend the day with him, working from home. I felt calm, driving to the hospital at 4am. The streets were quiet, and there was only one other person waiting in the lobby of the ER.

As I signed in, a male nurse gently asked, "Can I see him?" I held him up over the counter. The nurse observed, then said I could set him back down. It was comforting to me that he didn't take him away from me. But I noticed we were escorted back less than a minute later.

Another nurse took his vitals, saying "I call that "belly breathing"." A couple of minutes later, we were taken to another "room", which was really just a curtained area, with a high narrow bed, one small chair. Another male nurse commented on the name Tyrien, acknowleged he was a Game of Thrones fan, and handed me a syringe full of prednisone. I felt strange being expected to administer it myself - Tylenol is one thing, prednisone is something else! He saw my hesitation, and offered to administer it for me. He informed me that in a few minutes, respiratory therapy would be in with a breathing treatment.

Next a doctor came in. He introduced himself, then informed me that he had read that cloth diapers are bad for the environemnt because they use too much water. It must have been about 4:45am. Despite my crankiness, I calmly answered, "I suppose it depends what you read. My son can't breathe. Can you please help him?" It seemed so strange that Tyrien had been given prednisone in advance of being seen by the doctor. He asked how often he gets "croupy like this." I answered - "It never occurred to me that this would be croup. He's not barking." I felt bad for not considering that it might be croup - we hadn't even tried steaming him. The doctor said the respiratory therapy team would be in soon, and that he wanted a chest xray after that.

Two RTs came in with a nebulizer and albuterol. I admitted I had no idea how to nebulize a baby. They instructed me to just hold the wand as close to Tyrien's face as possible, and if he cried, that would be even better, because he'd take in more of the medicine. They quickly abandoned me. It felt so strange, holding him and the wand, and trying to dance around the room and sing to him to try to get him to cooperate. After 45 minutes, someone told me I could stop administering the albuterol.

Next, people rolled a portable xray device into the room. Then we were left alone to wait. Tyrien stayed awake for all of this, so there was no rest. We were alone for what felt like an hour, when the doctor came back in. He explained that the xray showed that he had bronchiolitis. He then said, "He's much better right now. It could go either way. I'd hate for you to get home and then for him to get worse. I'd rather him go into observation. But we're not equipped for that here. We don't have a pediatric unit. He'd have to go to UMC." I was okay with that - hey, that's right by work! That's by people I know! Doctors I know! Randa, Tammie, Myra. "Sure, we can go to UMC!" He left to make the arrangments.

A little while later, an alarm sounded. The doctor was actually the first person to enter the room. He explained that the ward at UMC was prepping a room for us. He noted that Tyrien's oxygen saturation was bouncing between 88 and 90%. Next some techs came in, asking for my carseat. "Why do you need my carseat?" "The paramedics need to strap it to the stretcher." "Paramedics?" "For transport to UMC." "Oh, no thank you. I'll just drive him." "No can do." "What???" "He needs to go in the ambulance. You can ride with him, or you can follow in your car right behind him." "What??? No, I can't leave him alone like that! What are you talking about?" Fortunately, at that moment, my supervisor called my cell phone and asked, "What's going on?" I calmly explained to her, but expressed my confusion. She responded, casually as always, "Yeah, when a baby's oxygen level drops below 90, they want to make sure there's oxygen on hand in case he needs it en route. Totally normal." I offered that she send someone with a laptop so I could finish the deliverable that was do that day. She offered to do it for me instead, "You're going to be busy, and you probably need some sleep." I admitted that I had planned on submitting a similar version of the deliverable for our sister program, and that I didn't think that the deliverable was even on that program director's radar. Randa kindly offered to submit it on her behalf, too. Thank goodness for shared drives!

A nurse or tech held Tyrien for me while I went to retrieve the carseat. It was so strange, coming outside into sunlight. Next thing I knew, the paramedics were strapping the carseat to the stretcher. Tyrien was still awake, calm, and breathing pretty well despite his pulse ox being low. They loaded him in, then helped me climb in behind him.



One of the pararmedics had a daughter who was just four weeks old, and he chatted to me throughout the drive. Those 20 minutes felt like forever. We stopped at every traffic light. I got bored and anxious, So I texted Tyson the picture of Tyrien in the ambulance. Apparently I'd forgotten to tell him that we had to go by ambulance. Tyson did not have the benefit of hearing Randa's calm, reassuring voice telling him that "this was normal." A few panicky texts ensued, with me reassuring him that he could go to work, that I'd call him if he needed to leave work.

I felt at home arriving at UMC, but then we took a back elevator I'd never even noticed before. We moved quickly into the ped ward. I remember seeing the dry erase board on the door, that said "Keith", and had smiley faces around it. I felt so comforted that someone had made the effort to make us feel welcome.

This room had a safe hospital grade crib. No more trying to manage Tyrien on a high, adult sized hospital bed. There was an armchair. A TV. A couch with a pullout bed. Extra chairs. A shower.

The first nurse I saw, informed me that Tyrien was on a strict diet of only clear liquids. Upon realizing that I was still nursing, she stated, "Well, I consider breastmilk to be a clear liquid", and asked that I nurse Tryien as much as possible  unless a doctor decided otherwise. She asked when I'd last eaten, and immediately set on a mission to find me food. She returned with a roast beef sandwich, water, and coffee. She complained that hospitals don't recognize the value of breast milk in situations like this, and that the mother needs food to keep making milk. Upon further discussion, I learned she had opted to have her own baby at the birth center. Such a relief to be in friendly territory.

 She also brought me a toothbrush and toothpaste, and asked me when someone would be bringing me the rest of my personal items. "Personal items?" "You probably want a shower and clothes, right? And something to sleep in tonight and tomorrow? We have clothes for him, but not for you." "Tonight and tomorrow?" "Didn't anyone tell you you'd be here overnight? He needs to be observed for at least 24 to 48 hours." Sigh.

Tyrien finally took a nap at some point. The nurse told me I'd need to buy food vouchers, expressing her dissatisfaction about that system, too. She sent me downstairs to buy vouchers, but I found the office was closed. I treated myself to foofy coffee from Java City. It felt so strange to see familiar faces under such different circumstances. I returned and told the nurse about the office being closed. She voiced her outrage, then left and returned with one food voucher, saying the other nurses tracked one down for me. I was able to order lunch without leaving the room.

Tyrien stayed awake the rest of the day. He hated the crib. It didn't seem right to let him play on the hospital floor with him being so sick, so I held him. All day long. During this time, Tyson texted that he wanted to put an offer in on the house that I liked. He offered to bring lunch to work every day if it meant we could get the house. So while holding Tyrien, I texted or called Debbie and asked her to put together an offer. Lots of calls back and forth while trying to juggle Tyrien. My tenants called, having problems with the contractor repairing the townhouse flood damage, so I had to call the contractor. All while holding Tyrien. I never turned the TV on that day. The nurses told me that Tyrien couldn't go to the playroom and interact with other kids, and asked if I could arrange for Tyler to visit him instead, saying "siblings really cheer sick kids up." So Tyson brought me clothes, contact lens supplies, toys for Tyrien, and Tyler. I took that opportunity to go downstairs and buy meal vouchers, then came back up to see Tyler and Tyson.



Tyson forgot to bring me phone chargers. I wll never forget e-signing our offer on my tiny little i-phone. We hung out for a bit, then they left and I put Tyrien to bed, but saw the belly breathing had resumed. I asked a nurse for help. She used the wall suctioner to suction him. He screamed and cried for a long time, then I finally was able to nurse him to sleep. I then went to sleep on the fold out couch.

A nurse woke Tyrien in the middle of the night to check his vitals. He began screaming. She tried her best to soothe him. After 10 minutes, I gave up and took him from her. I was nice to her, but secretly felt cranky, so I went rogue. As soon as she left the room, I disconnected him from the monitors and brought him to the pullout bed. She came back in to check on the alarm, and I told her I was nursing him and I'd put him in the crib after. She shut off the alarm. I fell asleep. When the next nurse entered to take his vitals, I told her, "He's here with me." I thought she'd chastize me or make me put him back in the crib so he could be on the monitors, but she just took his vitals and left. Again, I felt so grateful for her understanding. So different from my previous stay at a hospital!

In the morning, I didn't want to leave Tyrien alone in the crib while I showered, so I brought him in with me. Of course he didn't want to stay right outside the shower. He joined me, sitting on the floor, getting soaked. After that, I noticed he was breathing better, and commented to the nurse. "Oh, steam is the best thing, isn't it?" I thought to myself, "Then why the hell didn't anyone tell me to steam him yesterday?"

My favorite nurse was back. She suctioned him again. Tyrien was now screaming anytime medical personnel approached him. He was seen by a resident, and then by an attending. Both my favorite nurse and the attending told me to get a Nose Frida to suction him at home. There were no medications for bronchiolitis. They sent for the wound care team to look at his diaper rash. They gave me the medicine the pediatric urologist had tried to find for me. He had an ear infection, so they gave me a prescription for that, but told me not to fill it unless he got worse. Now all I needed was proof of a follow up appointment. I called the pediatrician's office and left a message for the nurse. By then my phones were both dead, so I had to leave the hospital room phone number. I was shocked when Tyrien's new pediatrician called me herself. She kindly explained, "I know you just want to get out of there, and Lowla (her nurse) is busy, so I figured I'd handle this for her." The compassion we received from UMC and from our pediatrician meant the world to me. I hate hospitals, even when the nurses are nice and we have such a nice view of Arizona Inn and palm trees. I missed my dog and my floor.

Tyson dispatched Anne Marie to drive to Northwest Hospital, pick up my car, drive my car back to the hospital since it had the carseat base, and drive us back to Northwest, so she could retrieve her car. I was exhausted, so grateful to let her drive my car. That drive took forever. I was so grateful to get home, hug Vader, and sleep next to Tyrien in our comfy king sized bed.



At the follow up visit the next day, the pediatrician informed me that I needed to keep Tyrien home the rest of the week. I needed to work. While I worked, Tyrien decided to learn to crawl. I felt really lucky to get to watch him figure it out.

We learned to use the Nose Frida. You have to overcome your gag reflex. We eventually realized it works best if you wedge your child's mouth open - you get more suction that way. It is a miserable experience for all involved. Truly feels like you are sucking your child's will to live.









Meanwhile, things continued to move forward on the sale of our house, and Debbie did a fantastic job negotiating with the agent for the Holmes St. House. Still, we knew we wouldn't get through the inspection period before our house's closing date.

The Thursday before our closing date, I finally negotiated a rental through AirBNB. A rental house just two blocks from Tyler's school, with a fenced yard, and laundry, rented on a week to week basis. But it wasn't available until Sunday! We rented a truck for Saturday and Sunday. We were behind in packing - taking care of a sick child and adapting to having to make a kindergartener do homework every night took its toll. Tyson posted this photo to FB - "The stress of moving is making Tyler regress!"


On Saturday, Tyson's dad came and helped move our furniture to storage, while I stayed with the kids, continuing to pack. The next day, Tyson's cousin helped move our chest freezer to the rental house - preserving breast milk was top priority. Tyson wanted to return the truck right after that to avoid having to pay for another day. We did that together, then Tyson's dad arrived with his truck to help move the rest of our stuff to storage. I stayed behind for our buyer's final walkthrough, frantically packing. And the buyer came early. Of course he came early! Every appointment I had for the sale of this home, people came early! I was once again in the midst of nursing Tyrien, Tyler was napping, the house was a wreck, and I had Vader. My car was parked in our secret parking area, far away. The gate keys were already packed. I couldn't escape out the back!

And so that is how I came to meet our buyer - filthy, messy hair, carrying a baby, walking a dog, and trying to rein in a five year old. Sure enough, there was the big black truck, and Carlos was standing in the driveway with his real estate agent, and a friend. He was eager, and excited. He brought a friend - he was proud to buy the house we were so desperate to leave. I felt terrible. I apologized for the house being "the dirtiest it's ever been." The agent was peering into the garage, and asked, "Are you going to be able to get out on time?" "Yeah, no worries!" I turned to Carlos - "It'll be clean, too." The friend was excited to see Vader, and asking me what kind of dog he was, while trying to pet him. Vader who is afraid of men. I was acutely aware of how hot the pavement was, and just wanted to get Vader, Tyler, and Tyrien away. We walked down the sidewalk to the jogging path, to my car. I got in the car, drove to a fast food joint, and realized, I'd forgotten to re-install the drain in the bathtub. I was terrified that we'd fail the final walkthrough for that.

Sure enough, as I brought Vader, Tyler, and Tyrien into the house, my phone was ringing. It was Debbie. The agent had called to report the condition of our house to her, and told her he didn't see how on earth we would ever get out on time. I felt cranky at being held up from packing to have to defend myself to her, and told her, "We have until tomorrow morning, right? That man has no idea that Tyson and his dad are driving both of their trucks. We're FINE. How clean does it need to be, anyway?" "As clean as you would want your house to be on move-in." "We'll be out on time. And it will be clean. The longer you keep me on the phone, the longer it will take for us to get out. We're fine."

By 8pm, all of our stuff was out of the house. Tyler had fallen asleep, and was in Tyson's truck amidst our stuff.  Tyrien was trapped in his carseat, crying furiously, as I worked frantically to finish cleaning. Just as promised, we left the house sparkling clean. Tyrien finally cried himself to sleep, and I found myself alone in the house, with nothing to do but wait.



I felt nostalgic, and a little sad. I remembered when I first came into the house, thinking seeing Tyson's  decor, and thinking, "This is a grown-up's house. My house is a fun house. My house has whore-house red walls! This house is serious." I remembered my reluctance to move in. I never liked the house until Tyrien was born - I spent five weeks loving that huge master bedroom - sleeping on the comfy bed, enjoying the view of the trees out behind our wall, putting a quilt on the floor for Tyrien's tummy time...Our home improvement projects of hardscaping the back patio, leveling the yard and solving the drainage issues, tiling the floor, with porcelain tiles on the diagonal, and painting the nursery for Tyler. As much as we hated the parking situation and the HOA, I felt sudden appreciation for all the house's good qualities, and it felt hard, leaving the house, especially since we weren't yet certain whether the Holmes House was going to work out. I left behind a welcome mat, and one potted cactus as a welcoming gift, for the young kid who was so visibly excited to be buying his first house. I felt proud that he would walk into a sparkling clean house, and I felt hope he would love it far more than we ever did.

Then Tyson arrived, we loaded the last of our items. At 10:25pm, we locked the door for the last time.