In the grand scheme of things, with all that is going on in the world, there is little need for more drama. As I write this there are stories playing out on TV of horrible things that have happened: floods, deaths, war, loss. But please bear with me for a moment while I tell you a little story about buying a house.

Do you remember the last post? About buying a house?

Well. We KNEW it would inspect well. We KNEW it. And sure enough, the inspector kept saying “wow” and “they wrote the book on pride of ownership” and “this is a GOOD house”. He was happy to be teaching me these little tidbits about a good house with a good example in front of him. Normally he’d be showing someone a problem and saying “now it should look like . . . ”

Now, we’d been pre-approved for about $40K more than the accepted offer, so we figured we were golden, right?

Um, wrong. See, we were doing the “zero down” thing that they are taking away as of October 15th. We were fitting in under the wire. Except that last week was probably the worst week in the last five years to try and get a mortgage.  The US was imploding; stock markets were roller coasters; companies were being bailed out by governments. We could NOT have timed it worse.

The lender decided that they wanted an appraisal done to make sure that what we were paying for the house was what the house was worth. That way if we default on the mortgage the day after we sign, they can turn around and sell it. This makes NO sense to me because it’s the buyer and the buying market that determines the worth and value of a house. The answer to “what’s it worth” is always “what someone will pay”. The bank doesn’t factor in “one block from Army Boy’s school” or “across the street from where soccer is held each spring”. No, they look at theoretically more concrete things. (What they are, I don’t know..)

It wasn’t enough that the city’s tax assessment put the house’s value at almost $100K more than what we paid (I’m going to have a chat with the city tax department about this one, let me tell you) because that has more to do with what it will cost the city to maintain your street/community/alley etc…

There were miscommunications with the appraisers, they had to come back to appraise it (I think they only did a ‘drive by’ the first time) and they promised a 24 hour turnaround on the report when it took much longer than that… I feel bad that the realtors and the mortgage broker had to do so much work - whatever kind of commission they get, they earned every single penny just having to deal with me. I’m not patient. Factor in that I was sick (fever, ear infection, headache…) and you have a very cranky client.

We were told that yes, we’d been approved for the dollars, just not necessarily on THAT HOUSE. Because the appraisal came by under the purchase price, suddenly the bank didn’t want to insure that mortgage. Or, um, the insurer didn’t want to insure it and so the bank wouldn’t lend it. Something like that. We were qualified to buy, just not any house. The bank wanted their say. In other words, pre-approval means sweet tweet.

The mortgage broker (who I’m sure had better things to do on a Friday night) spent hours on the phone with managers from BC to ON trying to find out how much the silly property had appraised at. Were we talking a difference of $500, $5000 or what?

Finally we heard that it appraised at $5K under the purchase price. Ah, for the wont of $5000. We found the extra $5000 and I signed the paper at 7:55 pm. Just an hour and five minutes before the 9 pm deadline. And about three hours after I’d lost my mind. I was literally sitting in a chair, staring at the roof and almost not caring which direction this deal would go as long as it would be over soon. Actually, now that I think about it, that reminds me a lot of childbirth. “I can’t do this any more, make it stop, make it go away, get it out.”

If you are in Calgary and need a home buying team, please let me recommend Kari & Mark Ashlee as well as Debbie Weiss with ProLink Mortgage.  Bar none, the best team you ever want to have.

September tries its best to have us forget summer.

– Bern Williams

I love September. When I was a child, I looked forward to the month when I could return to school, I was one of those kids that loved school. (Not that I loved getting up in the morning or anything)

This September feels especially beautiful. My children are healthy and happy, the sun is blindingly bright and life feels wonderful.

Aaaaand we bought a house! Could life get any better?

Well now, the political blog-o-sphere is all a hopping about Sarah Palin. Some refer to “Palin Derangement Syndrome”, which is the obtuse focus on any rumour that may have anything to do with Sarah Palin. Now some anonymous waitress has said she made a racial slur. Maybe it’s the same anonymous source that said she wanted to ban books at the library.

What I find most interesting is that there’s a segment of women who are poo-poohing her decision to hold this big job because she won’t have time with her kids. Raise your hand if you don’t have enough time with your kids.

Me neither.

As a working mom, I don’t have enough time with my kids.

There are other moms who would judge me because my daughter is in day care (”I didn’t bring her into the world for someone else to raise her!), some who believe I should homeschool, else I abdicate the instruction of my children to people know don’t know and value them; others may feel I’m neglecting their spiritual education.

What is wrong with the father being the primary caregiver? We did it for a while and it was great, it brought Major Man much closer to Army Baby. In my first marriage one of my greatest faults was not valuing the father-baby bond enough. *I* wanted to be the one to do it all. *I* was the Mother. *I* was queen above all.

There is nothing at all wrong with valuing mothers and wonderful, incredible influences on their children. But when we don’t give equal value to our other halves, we fall short. We are 50% of the parenting unit. For so long we’ve insisted on being Queens of the Household, being Supermom, being the mom that works a full time job and is still queen of the castle, the one who has it all. We’ve forgotten to thank, love and adore the husbands who stand up and be real men and take care of their family too.

Who is the only segment of society who you can still make fun of in a crowd? Men. Black, white, brown, whatever the colour, you can still make a joke about a man and it’s shrugged off. When was the last time you uttered “typical man” or “he’s such a guy”?

My point (that I’m taking a long time to get to) is that judging another mother is a useless endeavour and serves only to justify what you, yourself, are doing. “She is neglecting her kids” is followed by an unspoken second stance, “unlike me.” Why are we so sensitive about our own parenting choices? If we were totally confident in the choices we’d made - we would feel no need to comment on anyone else’s situation.

Women need to be in politics. Do moms need to be in politics?

Let me ask it another way: Do you want to live in a country where there are no mothers in political office?

I don’t know how many here follow American politics, but I do. My husband is American and my daughter, by birth, is a dual citizen. I find American politics a tad more interesting than our own. If you haven’t been following, I’ll give you a quick recap.

Obama beat out Hillary Clinton for the head of the Democratic Party. McCain beat out a bunch of other guys for the top spot in the Republican Party (which they will officially give him after the Republican National Convention). They each get to choose a running mate who would become VP. So Americans vote on the dual ticket. Obama picked Joe Biden. McCain picked Sarah Palin, the Governer of Alaska.

Now, I won’t get into politics here, but here’s the amazing thing. The biggest “slam” they can come up with is that Sarah Palin is a “hockey mom”. Sure they can disagree with her politics, but when the pull the punches, they bring up the biggest slur they can . . . she’s a, she’s a, she’s a HOCKEY MOM!

Horror of horrors!

Seriously, is that all you got?

I realize that being a VP would be all hard - you know with all those staffers to manage and get you coffee and brief you on the day’s news and manage your schedule for you.

I wonder if anyone who criticizes her has tried to manage five kids in different sports, working full-time and staying married happily. That’s a lot of work. Perhaps I missed the memo when “hockey mom” became some kind of slur. Then again, I’m a Hockey/Beavers/Piano/Gymnastics Mom, what would I know?