Our listing went viral…

And so did we.

(Read the last chapter here if you aren’t up to speed.)

So, where were we?

Oh yes. We were looking at December 29 to have our listing on the MLS. Photos were to be taken Monday, December 27.

December 26 is when I got sick. On December 23, in anticipation of visiting family in Oak Harbor, we all got tested to ensure we were negative. We were, however, because the girls had not had their shots, we were asked to stay home. Disappointed but understanding the reason behind it, we made the best of Christmas. We opened our gifts, had dinner with my cousin and her family, and enjoyed wine and merriment. (Merriment is only possible at Christmastime. It’s not valid the other days of the year unless you live in the 19th century.)

I got to bed late and woke up around 2am because of a 130-pound dog pushing me out of bed by laying sideways. (He rarely sleeps in the bed, believe it or not.) As I tried to throw him bodily onto the floor, I realized that my chest was a little heavy and my throat felt hollow and raw. I was also cold. Like, shivering cold. I never get sick. Never. I think the last time I had to go to the doctor or take medication for an illness — actually, as I write this, I can’t recall. Sure, I’ve had the sniffles and allergies and hangovers, but full-blown, bedridden, pill-popping, Nyquil-shooting, chicken soup sick? It definitely hasn’t been since we’ve moved. And before that, I remember strep throat maybe when The Bird was little. That’s been… ten years? More? So, I knew something was up. I immediately took my temperature, and I had a fever.

Red alert.

I am the type of person who chooses to run a fever within reason. I feel like it’s important to my immune system to allow myself to develop antibodies and fight infection as nature intended. I stayed under 101º, so I was hesitant to take fever-reducing medicine, even if that meant I had to be uncomfortably achy.

Sunday morning proper, when the sun came up (I mean, I guess it did. You’d have to ask the overcast PNW winter sky…) I knew I had it. After almost 2 years, it finally hit the Ferguson house the day after Christmas, and the day before we had to have the house showroom-ready for photos. But since Holton and the girls were healthy and feeling fine, they worked like crazy, taking up my slack. I was staying in my room and directing things downstairs through text and HomePod intercom. To say I had Mom Guilt laying in bed while my family was being super productive is an understatement.

Monday morning, I woke up and wanted to be tested just to know for sure. About that time, Holton turned to me and said, “I’m getting sick.” He was one day behind me, so as at least I could tell him what to expect. We cleaned the house and left for a testing site while the photographer was at the house to do photos and video. But climbing into bed and putting off chores until we were better wasn’t an option. At this point, in less than 48 hours, we could have people in our home who want to buy it.

Now what? We have $30,000 in earnest money on the line. If we don’t list our house in 5 days, we default. No sir. We were undecided on how we’d handle showings… for about 10 minutes. Our house hit the MLS on Wednesday morning at 4am, and when I woke up at 8, we had 2 showings. By the time I had coffee, we were up to 6.

There was no way I was going to be sick and allow people in and out of my house, let alone have to vacate every 30 minutes while I felt the way I felt. So, we grabbed food, toiletries, favorite pillows, and laptops (because we still had to work!), disinfected the house, and checked into an extended stay hotel – dog and all. Our offer review date wasn’t until Monday.

Nobody wants to be sick. But to be sick in a hotel bed with a dog and a foot of snow on the ground when you have to take him out really, really sucks. Add working remotely, reviewing house offers as they come in, and trying to keep kids from being sick, bored, and/or engaged in mortal combat, it can test you to your limit.

Friday morning, we received an offer that would get us what we needed financially and free us from hotel living. Where do I sign? I spent New Year’s Eve – my favorite holiday – in my bed, coughing and shivering, drinking one glass of champagne I couldn’t taste, and …lights out.

By Monday, we were under contract both ways and ready to put this behind us. The girls never got sick, and we were feeling better, though it would be a couple more weeks before we felt like ourselves again. At this point, the shoe we were waiting to drop was the appraisal. We ordered it on January 4, the first possible business day we could; however, the market being what it is, and the size of the property taken into account, it was going to take 2 weeks to get someone out there and get the report back, but the sellers were not going to move a stick of furniture until they knew it was going to come in at sale price. If it didn’t, the deal would fall apart, and we would be homeless. There was a lot on the line at this point, and there was no negotiation possible.

We passed the time by packing and purging to get ready to move, whether we had somewhere to go or not. Closing was set for February 4, which gave us a full month.

January 18 came. And went. The appraiser was having “internet issues,” and couldn’t process the report. January 19 came. And went. Late that evening, we got the report: success! It came in at sale price, clearing the last hurdle. However, the seller had been waiting and now needed an extension in order to move.

Spoiler alert: we are still here.

We were not going to be able to accommodate them, even if we wanted to. And it gets worse…