I wrote this a few months ago and while we are at a different point in our home selling journey, this brought back fond (ha!) memories and I felt like I needed to share it.
Selling your house is a pain in the ass. We knew that going into it but we also knew that in the end it would all be worth it. We’re still waiting for that end here at our house. And we’re working on our umpteenth open house right now so I’ve pretty much got this routine down. As I’m working, I thought I’d share some tips with you that I’ve learned/figured out over the last few months in case you’re in the same boat as I am.
Seven snarky steps to preparing for an open house:
A busy moms guide to sanely selling your home
1. Put husband in charge of children. Pray that he pays enough attention to them so that you don’t have to separate them.
1b. Separate children.
2. Sweep. And sweep. And sweep.
2b. Vacuum. And vacuum. And vacuum.
3. Wonder if your pets have something akin to male pattern baldness or alopecia and how they have any hair left after everything you’ve swept up. (I know pets can have alopecia. I watch the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I’m pro-Jiggy.)
3b. Stop and do a mini photo shoot of your filth and pet hair for your blog.
5. Back to work. Scrub bathrooms. And toilets. Blech! I’ve got two little GIRLS? How can a toilet seat get so disgusting in a matter of a week with GIRLS? I thought you boys were supposed to be the messy ones?
6. Mop. And mop. And mop.
7. Let it all go to hell for the next two weeks because even if you try to keep up with it, you’ll be right back to square one by the time the next open house rolls around.
So after a day of WAY too much coffee (OMG I think my stomach is eating itself) and hauling around a big excited, slobbery, barking-in-my-ear-at-trucks-for-three-hours dog and trying to figure out what to do and where to go or what to eat with said dog in the picture, and getting kids in and out of car seats but not letting the dog out, it’s like heaven to come home to this pristine sanctuary with it’s hairless floors and gleaming, clutter free countertops. I enjoy the silence for about three seconds before the circus comes bounding in behind me. Immediately, the dog drinks half a gallon of water from his dish because he’s so parched from barking in my ear for three hours and proceeds to throw it up all over my newly cleaned kitchen floor. The children run by throwing their shoes, coats and, wait. what? Where did the underwear come from? everywhere as they head to the front room to dump all three large bins of wooden trains. It’s like the Tasmanian devil just tore in behind me and ya know what? I don’t give a damn because I’m not cleaning it again until the next open house!