Reasonably Priced Listing: Midwestern Suburb Edition

You guys. I’ve discovered a new show- Million Dollar Listing. It is glorious. It’s hilariously earnest about things that absolutely don’t matter just like the Real Housewives shows, and features a series of fabulous gentlemen brokers with shellacked hair, tans that don’t quit, and wardrobes that definitely cost more than my car.

They have little hissy fits, and make more money than I’ve ever seen on single commissions, and generally exist in a Bravo-created world that in my fairly inexperienced opinion, doesn’t exactly exist in the real world of buying and selling homes.

The open houses are amazing- people are always fabulously dressed, and there are drinks and hors d’oeuvres, and people pretend to be not at all interested and oh, yes, that’s a lovely sky vault you have there, I don’t know, we saw one in Soho we liked…

I’m fairly certain when we sell our house, it will involve something a little bit more like this.

*opens door*

Oh! Hi! Are you here to see the house? Awesome. Yeah, we really need to sell it. Like, fast. I am sick of driving.

Champagne? No, we don’t have any champagne. Uh, I might be able to find some apple juice the kids didn’t drink…wine? Nope. That’s mine. Don’t touch.

Here, let’s go into the dining room. Uh, just ignore the baby in the corner eating coffee grounds out the K-cup he found somewhere.*

As you can see, there are lots of windows that haven’t been cleaned since my mother-in-law stayed here. But, uh, they’re pretty! And it’s an open concept which- Buddy! No! No no! That’s not for you!- uh, I hear that a lot on HGTV. It’s good. Definitely.

Um. Three bedrooms. Perfect for separating children who were SUPER excited to be a big sister when you were pregnant and then once the screaming, wriggly, red thing came home quickly changed their minds- Squeaks! Get Buddy away from there!- anyway, lots of room.

The closet, as you can see, is quite spacious. Big enough to hold a wedding dress you haven’t had cleaned yet because you got pregnant so fast you didn’t have the energy to do so…also all the baby stuff that you demanded your husband re-purchase because pregnancy made you crazy and you had to do everything for yourself even though the kid outgrew everything within, like, minutes, and you didn’t really have any idea what having a baby would be like anyway (Bumbo? Really? I needed a separate one of that. Really?)

Attic? Yeah, there is one. I don’t know, I’ve never been up there- Squeaks! Get off of there! Uh, basement. You can hardly hear the kids from down there. I used to take naps down there when I was pregnant. If you open the vent it’s not dangerous- you can hear screaming, I mean, just not like the normal everyday, “I see imaginary monsters and I’m scared come get me” stuff…uh, room for a lot of exercise equipment we don’t use! And an elliptical that gets ooh, gosh, maybe 20 minutes of use a day four or five days a week. I know. I’m in pretty good shape- BUDDY. NO. THAT’S A NO NO.

Diploma frames? Oh yeah, those are ours. Yeah, I used to be accomplished. Empty? Oh, yeah, I know. Well, see, I have the degree I just need to call and clear up some clerical oversight- BUDDY SERIOUSLY STOP IT- um. Bar! We have a bar! It’s awesome. I love it.

Um. Bathrooms…yeah, I don’t know, they’re nice? Lots of room for you to puke when you have morning sickness or pre-eclampsia? I don’t know if that’s a concern for you…are you married? Does your wife have a history of high blood pressure in her family? Anyway. New plumbing.

Teeth marks? On the door frame? Nope. Uh, don’t see them. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Our son does not chew at woodwork like a rabbit. Absolutely not.

So as you can see, it’s a great house. Are you interested? You know what? Let’s open that  wine now. It’s afternoonish.

Ooh, I almost forgot! The hallway that your kid can crawl up and down for hours! Perfect! It’s like a baby racetrack!


*Yeah. That happened.


I like to think Pinterest changed my life.  I love Pinterest! It’s amazing! It combines my new imperative to cook, organize, raise a child, and make a home,1 with the fact that it’s been long enough since the whole Grandpa’s house…experience that I can look at some home improvement projects without bile rising in my throat.2

Some goals are a tad lofty. I mean, according to Pinterest, I have a floor-to-ceiling build-in-bookcase in my attic alcove, make an incredible array of healthy, well-balanced meals and delightfully sinful and GORGEOUS treats like perfectly frosted Bailey’s Irish creme cake, am pretty bitchin’ at making and hanging canvas-wrapped prints, make keep-sake books of all the important cards I’ve ever received, have all sorts of adorable first-day-of-school photo ops planned for every year of Squeaks’ life, take part in every single monthly photo challenge (which I’m sure my friends and family all appreciate),and will have mason jars at my wedding as a cost-effective and whimsical alternative to wine glasses.

Ah. Well, kind of.

I mean, I am TOTALLY all about the canvas-wrapped prints. I think that would be awesome. I have BIG plans for a set of three wedding pictures hung from ribbons. But instead of making them myself, I had Buzz buy a LivingSocial deal where someone else would do it for me. (I still have to figure out the ribbon. Which means…there probably won’t be any ribbon.) And I have a drawer full of the lovely wedding cards we’ve received because I’m TOTALLY going to turn them into a book but I can’t really…how do they…how do you get the punches to match up…I don’t know, it probably won’t be that pretty.

I would love to do a thing where I take Squeaks’ picture on the first day of school holding a chalkboard with the date and “When I grow up I want to be…” right up through grad school (Oh, she’s going to grad school.) But, I realize that I probably will forget to write it before the first day of school. Or buy a chalkboard. So she’ll be standing at the end of the driveway holding a piece of construction paper that’s used on the back. If that. A more realistic possibility is that we’ll be running late and I’ll be swearing (quietly, I’m a good mother) and probably crying because MY BABY DON’T LEAVE ME SO HELP ME GOD IF YOU LISTEN TO YOUR FATHER AND GO TO MADISON I WILL COME WITH YOU.

Probably a better chance of that.

I don’t really cook the things I pin with the exception of the easy casseroles…like the pizza casserole. I knock that one out of the park. It’s hard to screw up putting ground beef on top of noodles and dumping a bag of cheese on top.

I set out every month with the intention of doing the photo challenge…but then inevitably forget about it or get hopelessly uncreative. “How can you take a creative picture of ‘nine o’clock’? That’s ridiculous. You suck pinterest.”

I’m not really a mason-jar-at-the-wedding kind of girl. And it’s an Italian restaurant. I’m thinking they’ll have wine glasses.

And I don’t even know if Buzz has an attic and if he does I’m guessing he’s not interested in funding my ill-advised attempt to turn it into a reading sanctuary.3

So. In general. Pinterest is fun, but unrealistic. Except this one thing. This one thing I could totally do. Mostly because it involved absolutely no craftiness at all. Behold- the wine-rack-as-towel-holder thing.


This, this I could do. I mean, I’m sure the blog post it originally came from involved days of antiquing and finding the wine rack at some vintage store where it came with a card saying it was haunted or something, I don’t know, whatever. I don’t like antiquing because it’s very rarely air-conditioned and the stuff makes me sneeze and then it makes me cry because it belonged to people who obviously don’t have anyone who loves them because they sold their stuff and don’t ask me about the boxes from my grandparents’ in my basement, I don’t know what you’re talking about.

No, I wasn’t going antiquing. I was just going to buy a wine rack off of and hang it up and call it a day. Oh, yes, look! I found that on Pinterest! I know, right? So amazing the things these people think of!

So I did a search for wine rack. And it popped up with a lot of standing wine racks. Which, okay, awesome, but not exactly what I needed. So I searched for hanging wine racks.

And…it came back with a lot of “wine/towel racks.”

Wait. What?

Amazon figured out my trick? And took all the barely-there-creativity out of it? Well, that ruined it for me.

Whatever, I didn’t really want a wine rack in the bathroom anyway. Fine.

1 This is related to my new imperative for STUFF. HOUSEY STUFF. This from the girl who, when asked by her mother if she wanted dishes or something for her birthday said, uh, well, the seventh season of CSI:NY was just released. Now it’s ALL about the electric can-opener.
2 Not paint or wallpaper. Not yet. Dear God, not yet.

3 Although it would mean he could return all those bookcases I made him buy last night because SERIOUSLY DUDE. I DON’T THINK YOU REALIZED THE NUMBER OF BOXES OF BOOKS I COME WITH WHEN YOU PROPOSED TO ME.