It's Raining, It's Pouring

You know the phrase, "When it rains, it pours"?

Well, I think I need a better umbrella.

We've been planning for a few months to go to California for the 4th of July and the following week. We were going to stay with my family, go to the beach, and make our first-ever trip to Legoland.

Notice how I'm using the word "were" and not "are"?

On Wednesday we took our car in for a pre-trip check. Wednesday evening we got the call that the car checked out, with one exception. The transmission was giving a danger code. We're not sure what the code meant because this was not a transmission shop, but they could tell enough that there was no way we should take the car on a long trip. They referred us to a transmission mechanic and sent us on our way.

When we got home from retrieving the car Bryan and I were brainstorming solutions. Could we take our other car? No, it's in worse condition than the first. Could we fly? I'm not sure what the no-flying cut-off is for pregnancy, but I didn't think I would be welcome on a flight as far along as I am. Could we rent a car? We decided that that was our best option.

Less than an hour after we got home from picking up the car, we got a voice message. It was our landlord. Since it was the last day of the month and our rent is due on the first, Bryan wondered out loud if he was calling to tell us our rent was going up.

No, but in retrospect that would have nicer.

One of the hazards of renting someone else's house is that they can decide to kick you out at pretty much anytime.

Any guesses what the phone call was about?

It turns out that the fellow who owns our condo wants to move back into it. Which means that we have to move out. By the end of July.

When Bryan relayed the message, I laughed. It was a slightly crazy, you've-got-to-be-kidding kind of laugh. We had just learned that our car could require extensive repairs, and now we were being told we might be homeless.

Awesome.

Here's a fun fact: counting our impending move, we will have moved during each pregnancy. I was almost halfway along with Peter during that move and eight months along with Cooper during that move. I'll be close to eight months with this little girl by the time we move this time too.

We've known for some time that they might raise our rent, but we figured that the choice to move would be our own. This is the second time we've been told that we had a month to move because someone else wanted the house we were renting, whether it was the bank or the owner. I'm growing weary of living in someone else's home.

So, we've begun the search. I'm sorry to say that our current abode is so nice, we are now thoroughly spoiled. I remember writing the same thing about our last place, but this time we've had a garage. And a garden. And really wonderful friends and neighbors that I'm going to miss. And the boys' closet is the size of a small room and has acted as a toy room that we could lock at night. I might miss that the most. It's much harder to leave this neighborhood than the last one.

We told the boys on Wednesday night that we had to move. Peter cried. Based on his reaction we really didn't want to tell him the other part of our bad news: that since we had such a short time to find a new house, we had to cancel our trip to California. We reached this decision after much prayer, so we knew it was right, we just didn't want to see him cry again.

You know what? Both boys took it really well. We told them the trip was just postponed for a while, not really canceled.

And now, in addition to not seeing my family or my beloved Pacific ocean (which I miss terribly), Bryan and I will be spending most of our waking hours looking at listings for a place to live. We drove around and checked out our first batch last night. Nothing promising. We'll keep looking.

And praying.