I am so hungry for closure right now.

We only have until October 27, and then our contractual relationship with our realtor will end.

The house will be off the market for the amount of time it takes for their buffer-zone (where they claim their full commission despite being out of contract) to expire, and then it will be up to us.

I wanted to start this way, but considering only 3 or 4 houses like ours have sold in the six months we’ve been on the market (and we might not have know that on our own), I’m thankful we went “by the book” at first.

Jay plans to take off of work two extra days after we’re off-market, in order to help us move back in.  This is a huge blessing, especially considering he’s been completely comfortable with the Spartan lifestyle of the last six months.

It’s the kids and I who’ve been missing our comfort objects.

For six months we’ve maintained our house “by the book,” keeping the rooms set up as the professional stager advised.

This has been hard for me on a few levels, especially considering how much I enjoy rearranging in our little house. It’s always made me feel rather creative.

Now (or rather, in three weeks) we will be *living* in our own house again.  Yes, we’re still trying to sell– later– but for now we’re changing things back to our own:

The extra room will no longer house an unused bed.  It will return to the domain of books and toys (did I mention that we had a solid wall of bookcases in that room?  The longest wall. And all those books have been in boxes for this time).

And I freely admit that one of the biggest things I learned this season was that books are my comfort-object.  I’ve decided most adults have one: if it’s not a cell phone it’s a key wad, purse/wallet or pocketknife.

We will still be in ambiguity– not sure if God intends for us to stay in this home or move– but I anticipate a much more comfortable level of ambiguity.

One that might even include a dish-drainer and a Kitchen-Aid mixer again.