The Military Move of Doom & Death by Homeownership

The Army is moving us at the end of the month. Ever since we found out, we’ve been beyond excited about this move - big city, big possibilities for our family after living in the Land of Nothing Here at this post for so long. Despite our excitement for the area, this move is unbelievably stressful, even more-so than any normal move. We found out that Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, TX doesn’t have on-post housing for us for at least a year. One year on a wait-list with six children? Surely, they can’t be serious!

But oh, they are!

We looked at rentals, navigating through the tumultuous rental waters, only to find way overpriced homes in not too savory areas. So, with house prices and mortgage rates as low as they are, we’ve decided to buy our first home. This wasn’t the original plan, of course. We haven’t been scrimping and saving, or putting “Buy Our First House” on our Bucket List for 2011. And because we’ve suddenly turned to this decision in, what feels like, lightning speed, this situation is quickly careening out of my comfort zone, and rapidly approaching DEFCON 80 in SUCK factor.

Let me tell you, If you want to experience something that is going to make you grow gray hair faster than those that crop up while being a parent, g’head, buy your first home, and watch ‘em sprout.

This isn’t a peaches ‘n cream, Beaver Cleaver experience, folks. This isn’t what they portray on TV, “Oh look, honey! We’re homeowners! Look at our beautiful home with a picket fence and cute, non-shedding dog and neighbors we love!”

Oh hellz, no. This is an experience I’m not sure I ever want to do again, to be frank. Maybe I’ll be so successful as to be able to pay cash for a home someday, because this mortgage loan, showings, shady realtors and sellers crap is for the birds.

We’ve put in offers to three homes to have two fall through, and the third turn to crap when the house inspection went south. (The foundation had major problems, and the house is sinking into the ground. No joke.) In fact, we’re currently embroiled in a battle as we speak to get the earnest money back from the third house, because the sellers are trying to scam us, just as they were trying to scam us into their sinking home. I guess I have “I NEED MORE STRESS IN MY LIFE” tattooed on my forehead for all to see.

This fourth house, the one we’re currently in contract for, is a builder home. We couldn’t use our lender, we had to use their lender. We just received the list of “accompanying paperwork” they need for this loan. W2s? Check. Paystubs? Check. Photocopies of ID & social security cards? Check. Three months worth of bank statements, every page, every thing you’ve spent on every account you have? Um, what? Hello, invasion of privacy? What’s next, what brand of underwear I prefer?

And to make matters the tippy-top of ultimate crud, the movers came for a pre-inspection and told us they are too busy to try to make this a two-day pack, they’ll have to squeeze our five-bedroom house into a one-day pack. Which means, they’ll be throwing my stuff into a box as fast as they can. I’ll be lucky to get it to arrive at our new house in one piece.

Seriously folks, this move is going to kill me. Pray for us, for our sanity, and for the misery to stop. We’re going to need it.


About Lisa D.

Once upon a time, Lisa was born and raised in New York, a land where there was a corner deli, Italian restaurant, and Dunkin Donuts with delicious coffee on every corner. And, despite horrific traffic, accents and expletives a-plenty, life seemed to make sense. Enter an Army husband, six kids (b. 1995, 1999, 2000, 2004, 2007 and 2008) and three states later, her family of eight are living the military life in the (very) deep south far from anything familiar, let alone making sense. Once a business management major, Lisa now uses her management skills to keep soccer practices, doctors appointments and juggling six kids' schedules in order, all while trying to cram their big family into small Army housing. You can find her regularly McGyvering things back together using shoelaces and bubble gum with a breastfed baby on her hip, all while baking from scratch and pretending her hair color isn't from a bottle. She finds sanity in gardening, baking cookies, working out so she can eat bake more cookies, playing with her family, and writing about her parenting (mis)adventures. Lisa can also be found at seeking sanity in the bottom of her coffee cup.

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