May was a tough month. It started out like any other, and then went to hell. The good, before hell:
We haven’t been parking it much lately or rather, as much as we used to. Saige is in turbo-crawl mode so we’ve been sticking closer to home until she starts walking. I find walking easier. And with out back and the little park here, we are still getting outside often. Actually, probably more than we did when we were going to parks all the time. We did make it to the ghost park as I call it, at Marymoor where there is never anyone else around. I’m not sure why, it’s a great play area surrounded by grass and there’s even a restroom nearby (a kiddo necessity). We made plans to meet up with some friends, packed a lunch, and set out for what turned out to be an almost four-hour outing. Turns out Blaise can do monkey bars; I feel like I should have known this. Laine took to the swings as usual and Saige thinks swings are hot stuff, too. I haven’t been taking as many pictures as I used to but Blaise asked that I take some of him doing the monkey bars to show dad. He was quite proud.
Brian took Blaise to two YMCA camps last year and they had a great time. Now that Laine is three (almost four!) she was able to go, too. They went to Camp Orkila on Orcas Island for the family camping weekend over Mother’s Day weekend (Saige and I decided to have a quiet weekend and stayed behind). The report from Brian was that they had a great time. And because Brian had been there before, he had it down to make it easy on him. Laine loved the art, giant swing, and horse riding; Blaise loved the beach, giant swing, and just running and climbing around. Apparently there was excitement Saturday night. While sleeping, a few raccoons invited themselves into the cabin, took Brian’s backpack, opened it, and stole a bag of chips! They came back exhausted Sunday afternoon. Brian even said Blaise fell asleep in the car driving home. That NEVER happens anymore. It was a successful trip.
At home, Saige rocked her first pair of shorts and helped me shop for a few items in preparation for house pictures. Those legs!
After the camping weekend and celebrating Mother’s Day with the kiddos’ handmade art from camp, we prepared ourselves to put our place on the market (the beginning of hell). The photographer came Tuesday and we went live on Thursday. The photos turned out really well and I’m happy we have them to document our time here once we move. It’s been a good 8.5 years.
The listing hit at 12:20pm and while I was picking the kiddos up from school at 12:30pm, I already had two calls setting up showings for the afternoon. This would happen almost daily… agent(s) call to make an appointment, make sure the place was super clean and show-ready, pack the pups, cats, and kiddos in the van, drive around for however long we needed to be out… not exactly fun. And it was hot. Not to mention I’m pregnant (being totally dramatic here). I thought for sure our place would sell within a week based on the other houses just like ours that recently went for sale in our neighborhood. One went within four days, the other within five days. I was starting to worry just as I was letting up on the excessive cleanliness and willingness to say yes to every agent who called asking to show. And then it happened. An offer. Before though…
After two weeks of constant showings and an open house, and no offers coming the month couldn’t have gotten any worse. Leilah died. She started having a cough in late December and after a few trips to the vet (and hundreds of dollars later) she was diagnosed with congenital heart failure. She started taking some medication that seemed to help a little but we knew the inevitable would happen, just not as soon as it did. From January until her last day, she had good and bad days. The day before was one of her good days; I’ve read that you get a burst of energy before death. It was a Friday and she had been on FaceTime with my mom, part of the action with the kiddos, even ate some pizza crust from our Friday night pizza night. It was a normal day.
I woke up at 5am on Saturday morning and asked Brian if Leilah had been coughing through the night, as she often did. (I had slept in Laine’s bed to avoid Brian’s snoring.) He said he had heard her a few times so I stayed in bed a bit longer thinking all was fine. (I frequently worried I would wake up or come home to her dead.) After Mayah wouldn’t let up about getting up for breakfast, I released them from their crates. Leilah was foaming at the mouth, dripping urine, and listless from the waist down. I just knew this was the day. I carried her downstairs and took her out back thinking if she was outside and on the ground, she might get a little burst of energy. Nothing. I picked her up and held her like a baby, stroking her as she calmly readied to pass. I was thinking Brian would have to take her into the vet to have her put down, which I didn’t want. Something about her passing on her own made it easier for me to accept. Sure enough, I walked inside with my hand on her chest, her heart pumping fast and then it slowed to a stop. She was gone. After the initial shock and tears, I realized that it couldn’t have been any better. And she waited for me. I know she did. Thank goodness Brian was here, he was able to find a box to put her in and take to the vet for cremation. I’m not sure I could have handled that. Even he was sad; he shed some tears while dropping her off at the vet. I didn’t cry when my dad or Nan died, yet I’m crying as I type this a month later. I miss her, she was such a great dog. It hit Blaise too, trying to understand death. I think he understands after asking questions and internalizing things for a few days. That kid doesn’t miss a beat. Laine just asked if we can get a new dog. I still look to see Leilah in places she would be. Like when I take my nightly bath, she used to sit in the doorway. I look and she’s not there. Worm sits there now.
So Leilah died. Tough day. We had a birthday party to attend at 1pm after the eventful morning and in the midst of all the house stuff, I hadn’t remembered to get a gift. The big kiddos and I left a bit early to stop by the yogurt shop to get a gift card. We were the first customer right as they opened and the young 17-year-old kindly asked her standard question, “How’s your day going so far?” I immediately started tearing up and said, “My dog died in my arms this morning. Not good.” Probably not the answer she was looking for. She was super sweet given the uncomfortable setting I put her in. Saturday was filled with off-and-on crying. Even at the birthday party, at the zoo, surrounded by adorable animals. I was able to fall asleep that night after some more crying, just to wake in the middle of the night to soaked underwear. I was half-asleep so I just went to the bathroom and changed underwear (all in the dark), and went back to sleep. I didn’t even think anything about it. Well, I woke up the next morning and saw a huge dried bloodstain on my sheets. Lovely. Leilah dies and I’m thinking maybe a miscarriage now. In my three prior pregnancies, not one drop of blood. This was new.
Since the next day was Memorial Day and my doctor’s office would be closed, I decided I should probably head to urgent care instead of waiting until Tuesday. My first time ever. I’m not sure if it was because I’m pregnant, have excellent insurance, or if it’s just the norm but they ran me through the ringer… I was poked and prodded for three hours. The baby was fine and they have no idea where the bleeding came from, just that it wasn’t from the baby. A nice relief from the horrible, hellish weekend was that I met Karann and Sara for brunch at Salish later that morning. A happy moment in the midst of everything.
After the weekend of death and blood, Monday started with a 7am text for an 11am showing followed by two more agents asking to show our place. We had to be out with everyone—two- and four-legged—from 10:45am until just after 3pm. We packed up and went to Marymoor to ride bikes and swing, and to Carnation select our exterior paint scheme. Thankfully it was a holiday so Brian was home to help with everything.
Leilah, pregnancy scare, constant showings… and then Brian was set to leave for five days to South Dakota on Thursday. I’m pretty sure I had anxiety attacks for the first time ever. I even had some sickness that I’m certain wasn’t pregnancy related, just nerves. Brian was all packed when Thursday morning rolled around. I was in a mood. And not a nice one. Between Brian leaving, still being on the edge of tears from Leilah, some residual bleeding, showings, an open house scheduled for that Sunday, and just being full-time on kiddo duty, my mood escalated. Brian, being the awesome guy he is, decided to stay home instead of leaving. I think I immediately calmed down.
We had a nice few days, including a kiddo-free brunch at Salish Saturday morning. I had scheduled Lisa for that Saturday to have some free time since Brian was set to be out of town so it worked out nicely. A showing was scheduled for 1:30pm after Lisa left so we packed up the kiddos, animals, and headed out to kill time. The evening was uneventful until Brian said he wished he had gone that morning to South Dakota like I had suggested the day before (and then selfishly wished I hadn’t). I started feeling really bad and selfish about him staying so at 9pm, I suggested he book a flight for Sunday morning and go see his family. There was one at 5am Sunday morning, he booked the sucker.
While packing Saturday night for his short trip—he was in South Dakota for less than 24-hours—I checked my email about 10:30pm and we had an offer from the couple who came to check out our place earlier that day. Not only was it our first offer, it was a good one. Slightly over asking and a minimal closing cost request. And bonus, they wanted an August 14 close date. Score! We decided to accept right away but slept on it before officially accepting. Looking back, I was worried about not selling for nothing. I just had too high of expectations. Lesson learned.
Brian was up at 3am, flew out, and rented a car to drive to the reservation to surprise his family. The short trip was worth seeing his siblings, and niece and nephews he hadn’t seen in ages. And to see the reservation his mom and her family are from (some still live there). I was left to deal with the offer business (and to cancel the scheduled open house for that Sunday). Which was all fine by me. I am the paperwork person in the relationship and I was feeling pretty awful about being selfish and having him miss his trip. The less he had to deal with, the better.
On top of all the chaos, Laine woke with a 104.3 degree temperature. Poor gal. She missed her last dance and swimming classes (Blaise too since they’re a packaged deal), school, and we had to cancel some play dates. I couldn’t get her fever to break until Thursday. She was back to normal in time for their dance recital that Saturday.
That was May.
Jumping Raccoons 