This past weekend was the most tiring one yet in our son's 15-month-old life. It started with a birthday party on Saturday morning during his nap time. He was able to make up that missed nap in the early afternoon, but he never got his second one. We then went to a 6:00 dinner at Patty and Sarah's house. Unfortunately, Will was ready to go to sleep an hour after we arrived, so I tried to get him to fall asleep on my chest as I walked around, missing the dinner conversation and having to eat my meal after everyone else had finished. This was all for nothing, as Will never went to sleep and just grew crankier. We left at 8:30, got home, and put Will, who was now completely exhausted, straight to bed. I then checked the messages. An agent wanted to show the house the next morning, "sometime between 9 and 12." (The early hour on a Sunday made me want to write my own "Dear 24," letter).
If you haven't had to show a house in this country, let me just say it is disruptive. Each time one is scheduled, usually with just a few hours' notice, we are expected to be out of the house, and, of course, our home is supposed to be spotless. With a young toddler in tow, this becomes extremely challenging. Normally we spend a good part of an hour feeding him in the morning, and then following that with another 30-45 minutes of bathing and getting him dressed. Well, yesterday, he slept until 9 because of his long day before. We quickly dressed him and left, not wanting to have the house messed up by the usual routine. This particular agent's three-hour window was especially annoying because most showings don't last more than 10 minutes. We went out to breakfast at a local Dunwoody institution, J. Christopher's (our first time, if you can believe it...and I am now sorry that I didn't know about it before now), and then headed to the mall to buy some shoes. By the time we got home at 1, Will was exhausted again. He even fell asleep in the car. But he woke up when I transferred him to his pack-n-play. Now he was awake again, but another message was waiting for us that an agent wanted to show the house sometime between 3 and 5. This time we waited in the house until 4, and then put Will in the car for a long drive to kill the time. He did fall asleep again, but woke up as soon as we got back to the house at 5:15. For the next two hours he tried to stay cheery while he banged around the house like a drunk and picked through his dinner. Putting him to bed at 7, he then cried for the next 40 minutes while we tried different tricks to help him calm down. He was so, so tired. Finally, after much singing of Beatles's songs, he gave me a smile, and fell asleep almost the instant I put him down. He was exhausted, we were exhausted, and our last "quiet" weekend was finally over.
And still no one has made an offer on our house.