This is my new bathroom, and favorite freakin' room in my new house. It is covered in marble tile, and the claw foot tub is made of enameled cast iron. Keep the wonderfulness of this room in mind as you read the following, and tell me if you think this complex series of events is a bad sign:
We found a house to buy in Rexburg and made an offer (Good thing, right?)
The sellers had another offer, so did some sort of crazy highest bidder thingy where we had to offer again and take the risk of being outbid by another person (this is why I can't handle Ebay, by the way. I hate the stress of bidding.) (Bad thing, for freaky neurotic people like me.)
We won the bid! It was meant to be!! (Good thing, especially for superstitious people who believe in signs and fate, like me.)
I went up to Rexburg to see the house (yes, I had not actually been inside it before I made the offer, but what was I supposed to do? It was everything we wanted and I trusted our friends and realtor's pictures). At 8 1/2 months pregnant, I fell off the deck of the house and sprained my ankle (at least I THINK it's sprained. Urgent care refused to do an x ray.) (Bad, bad sign.)
I met up with the inspector and hobbled through the house in serious pain, but the inspector was "in love with the new wiring and plumbing" and the house was in really good shape (Good sign).
We contacted the bank and got things rolling. We had already been preapproved for a loan. (Good sign).
We hit a major snag with the appraisal being too low, and the people we were bidding against for the house sent their moneybags father to knock on the door and offer the seller $5,000 more than we did in CASH. (All dreams came crashing down).
Miraculously, the seller refused the offer (they were under contract, after all), and agreed to lower the price of the house to meet the appraisal. (Okay, are they simply not very smart, or are they extremely kind? Either way, this house was meant to be ours!)
Everything is on track with the bank, or so the loan dude says when we call him (Good sign).
We drive up to Rexburg to close on the house with our 2 week old newborn in tow, only to get a phone call saying that the underwriters for the loan are worried about the appraisal of the house and may not back up the loan. (That would have been good to know YESTERDAY! Bad, bad, bad).
We pray and stay up all night worrying about the loan not working out, despite our worthiness.
The next morning we wait to hear from the loan dude, who never calls. So, we pack up our 3 kids and march into his office and sit down (hoping to get some sympathy). Loan dude kicks it into high gear, finally, and works things out (Good, I guess, but at this point we are all exhausted and mad).
The closing of our house is delayed from 10:30 am to 3:00 pm. This means that we will be driving back to Utah late at night in order to get Mike back at BYU to teach his 8:00 am class. (BAD).
We close, and finally have the actual key to the house (HURRAY!)
We go over to the house (keep in mind, Mike was seeing it for the first time. He was in eastern Oregon working while I bought the house and looked at it). Everything looks good until we go into the basement, and it's flooded!!!!!!!! Well, actually only a small part of it is flooded because the former home owners left the sprinklers running into a window well--thus confirming that they are just not very bright, rather than extremely kind. There is over a foot of water in the window well, and the carpet in the closet near the window is soaked (luckily it was just the closet). We scramble to get a sump pump and shop vac, rip up the carpet, open windows, etc. At this point, it's like 7:00pm. (BAD).
We don't resolve the problem until after 8:00, and don't leave Rexburg till close to 8:30. We arrive home at 1:00 in the morning, just in time for Ruby to wake up.
So, you tell me: are we doomed from the start?