Fighting Mad.

As you know, the Army moved Theo from his job here in Madison to one in Buffalo, Minnesota at the end of January. We were forced to sell our home, found some wonderful buyers who love it, despite its flaws- and made an offer the second day it was listed. All was going wonderful, and everything the inspector mentioned the buyers were okay with. Many days had passed, and we decided it was time to make an offer on a home in Buffalo. Life was looking pretty peachy. I pulled out my garden sketchbook and began plans. I showed the kids cool options for their own rooms finally- a Buzz colored room, and a place for all Ben's lego creations where his brother couldn't get em. Then... The buyer's bank's appraiser came in and said the house was worth about $26, 000 less than the buyers were willing to pay. 6 Years ago we paid $109,000 for our home. Our full asking price to sell this house was $110,00, the buyers offered 110,000, but because the appraiser says our home is only worth somewhere around $84,000, the bank can only give the buyers a loan for that amount. The market here is awful- and almost all sales are short sales. This forces us to either the keep the house, and live apart from Theo- which is not fair to Theo or the kids, or me- because I'm over being a single mom and spending $150 on gas every weekend for Theo to be here for less than 48 hours. Or sell it. We can't rent it out, because it apparently needs repairs (according to the inspector and appraiser) that would need to be fixed before it could be rented. On top of that- we're going to be living 7 hours away, and don't feel comfortable being lanlords from so far away. We thought we'd found the solution in something called a VA compromise- We used a VA loan to purchase our home, and they've created this compromise to help military folks who are forced to sell their homes in less than ideal market conditions. It looked the VA covered the amount between what we owed and what the buyers are paying, and we did not have to take a hit to our credit. Ride the rollercoaster with me... Not so. VA compromose hits our credit just like a short sale- so that pre-approval for a home loan that we had is now gone. No matter what your credit is, you are not allowed to purchase a home for 2 years, sometimes 3, after a short sale. Devastated doesn't begin to cover it. Angry, bitter, confused, nerve-wrecked, shaken, hurt, heart-broken, unnerved, spitting, fighting, mad. We've spent the last year and half building up our credit after my husband got sober. We've paid our bills, even when it meant we had $.30 left in the bank every two weeks. We've sacrificed so much- not having enough money to go to California to say goodbye to my grandpa, or being to able to go out give my grandma a hug at his funeral because we put every penny we had into getting this house ready to sell- and now that was a waste of time. I'd like to thank the folks who foreclosed on their homes all around our town for screwing over the people who paid their bills, and making the market value of homes in Milton "40% than it was 6 years ago," according to that lovely appraiser. Now, we will have to rent a home. Not the end of the world, except when you consider we have pets and I'm a gardener. I'm not a one bed of flowers kind of gardener, but more of a massive rip up all the lawn type. I'm unwilling to budge on the gardening thing... it's as much a part of me as my hair, or my kids. I know how childish and unnreal this sounds, but gardening is a part of me, and if I can't have my own patch a dirt, I don't want anything at all. Period. And I don't want to just keep my plants alive until we get a house in a few years, it's not that, I want to tend to them every day I want to kneal down and watch God's miracles as they evolve and grow, and share their beauty with me. I live for my garden- for the physical aspect, the teaching, the wildlife. Some people watch TV at night, I garden with my headlamp until I can't see. I spend a 100 hours a week, however I need to come by them, in my garden come spring. My kids grow their own stuff and are always out there with me. Dirt runs through my veins, and my kid's veins now, too. I feel like this- this not haing a garden after having a massive, extensive garden with thousands of hours of labor and love, hundreds of roses, hundreds of perennials (most raised from seed), and shrubs- I feel like someone has stabbed me in the heart and left me bleeding. I feel like I'm drowning. We will have to get rid of some of our pets. The Humane Society isn't even accepting cats, so I don't know exactly where we're supposed to take them- or if I even can bring myself to do it? Am is supposed to dump my pet, my family member, in the woods? Leave em' in a box on the doorstep the Humane Society in the middle of the night? Why not just shoot me? Just thinking about it makes me sick. Nevermind the process of telling my kids they have to get rid of their pets! A little mercy would be nice. None of this is really our fault. We bought a house like many young couples did, and at the time, it was a wise choice. I believe, in military circumstances, we should be allowed to not take the hit on our credit. Like I said, mercy would be nice. It's not like we're asking for much. We don't need some fancy home- we were offering on the most plain house you've ever seen. We don't need lake frontage, or granite countertops. We don't need 3 car heated garages or fancy pools or fountains. I'd settle for 4 walls and some freakin' dirt. A simple $118,000 home- so small in our world, nothing to most of the banks who are punishing us. The balls rolling with the short sale and my husband calls the bank to ask some questions and they told him they won't approve a short sale until the house has been on the market for 90 days- so now we're being penalized for having a buyer? Seriously... what is wrong with our country? This doesn't make any sense! They are going to end up getting nothing but a trashed house in foreclosure if they don't take this offer- don't they realize that? A few ago, I didn't understand why people did that when they lost their homes, but now I feel like I'll need to sell the fixtures just so we don't end up homeless. I'm not going to just sit here while my husband lives in his office on a cot in Minnesota? Sweet heaven, I am so over this! So, that's where we're at folks. The whole story. Fun, isn't it?