5 tips for renting an apartment after a short sale, bankruptcy and/or foreclosure

Finding the perfect apartment is hard enough without a short sale, bankruptcy or foreclosure in your past. With any one of those in your recent history, you become a high-risk. We had two. Short sale and bankruptcy. But we were still able to rent an apartment without forking over our first born and four months rent in advance. Here's how we did it...

First of all, rent-free living is the way to go if you can swing it. That's a big "duh" in my book. I've shared resources... the biggest being The Caretaker Gazette. So many rent-free opportunities. But in most cases you have to be willing to move or to be isolated. Like we were. We were living rent-free on a beautiful island in a wonderful, old house that used to be a bed and breakfast and was only rumored to be haunted. For four months at the end of my pregnancy, Bob commuted to San Francisco for work. A seven hour trip that included two planes, a shuttle and a train. When the baby came along and his work called him to Chicago, we followed the call. To guarantee being together. To be nearer to the grandparents. To guarantee income.

That meant we had to find an apartment. But with a short sale and a bankruptcy in our recent past, we knew we'd never pass a credit check. So how were we able to land our apartment? Here are a five tips that made all the difference in our apartment search:

1. Don't bite off more than you can pay.
Only rent what you can afford to pay cash each month. Don't put yourself in a situation where you're going to be scrambling to make ends meet. The last thing you want is to move into an apartment you can't afford and then have to move again.

2. It's not what you know, it's how many landlords you know.
A landlord who you find through a friend of a friend is going to be a lot more understanding of your situation than a random landlord you find on Craigslist. We put the word out on Facebook that we were looking for an apartment in Chicago and immediately got a response from our friend Cece. She shared a posting for an apartment in Lincoln Square in a building that was owned by a friend of hers from high school. We got in touch with him, said Cece sent us his way and he responded immediately. To our delight, the apartment was one block away from our friends Megan and Jamie in a neighborhood that we love. It seemed meant to be.

3. Make a good first impression.
Our opportunity for a first impression was via phone. It's much harder this way. Because we couldn't be there to meet Andrew in person or see the apartment, we sent my mom and Tom. If you're going to send someone on your behalf like we did, make sure they'll make a good impression. Mom and Tom were great. Of course, they're so personable. And because Mom is a realtor, she talked to Andrew from that perspective. They had such a nice time talking that Andrew took them out for gelato to the cafe on the corner.

4. Be honest.
Don't try to hide your financial hardship. It won't work, anyway. It will all come out in the credit check. Yes, I have seen those ads on Craigslist that say "No Credit Check." Those always felt a little suspicious to me. Maybe I'm just paranoid. Maybe they're fine. But most landlords will ask for a credit check. And when Andrew mentioned the credit check, I was honest.

"We won't be able to pass a credit check," I said. 

And then I explained everything. How we owned this house in L.A., how we did a huge renovation, how Bob lost his job and we couldn't sell the house and how I wrote about all of it on Love in the Time of Foreclosure. By this point, Andrew had already met Mom and Tom and liked them. He considered our mutual friend Cece "good people" and if we were friends with her, we must be too. So when I began to explain our financial situation, he listened with an open mind.

Still. I was worried. I knew that it wasn't a slam dunk. We were a risk for any landlord based on our history. I could only hope that Andrew saw our integrity through our story. Luckily I had documented our story on this blog and could send him there to read it. And he did. We talked the next day and he was ready to rent us the place without worry.

Our honesty, character references (so to speak) and Bob's income all added up to "good tenant material."

5. Write a letter to the landlord
It's not uncommon for a buyer to write a letter to accompany a bid on a house. So why not do the same when trying to rent an apartment... especially now that there is so much competition for rentals? Start with why you love the apartment. Show that you'll take care of it. As a former homeowner you know first hand "pride in ownership." Talk about that. Then share your story. Your Letter of Hardship is a good jumping off point. Don't be afraid to put it all out there. If you are good tenant material, it will show through your story. Lastly, tell the landlord what getting this apartment would mean to you.

Good luck. And just trust that no matter where you end up, you'll make it your own.

Anyone out there want to add anything? Any more tips? Anecdotes to share? 
Please share in the comments below.

Pledge to Love

I'm in the midst of getting my book ready for publication, but I just had to take a break from writing the book to blog about this new report that was just published by the National Bureau for Economic Research.

The report, written by economists Janet Currie and Erdal Tekin, is titled:

Is the Foreclosure Crisis Making Us Sick?

The answer should come as no surprise to anyone who has been or is currently in foreclosure.

The answer is, yes. Yes. The foreclosure crisis is making us sick.

Currie and Tekin found that an increase in the number of foreclosures in a particular zip code correlates to an increase in the number of anxiety and suicide related hospital visits. A Time story on the study explains Currie and Tekin's findings:

"...for every increase of 100 foreclosures in a zip code, there’s a corresponding rise in health issues for people in the normally healthy age group of 20 to 49: an 8.1% increase in diabetes, 7.2% more ER visits and hospitalizations for hypertension, and 12% more visits to doctors related to anxiety. A rise in foreclosures was also associated with a 39% increase in trips to the hospital related to suicide attempts."

I get it. I do. But you know what?

It doesn't have to be this way.

I'll say it again.

It does not have to be this way.
 
Maybe you're in foreclosure now as you read this. You might be feeling that tightening in your chest. The stress makes it hard for you to breathe. The questions that turn like a knife in your stomach:

How will we get out of this? Where will we live? How will I provide for my family? Will we ever bounce back?

They weigh so heavily. They might be making it hard for you to get out of bed. Hard to be a normal person.

I get it. Completely.

You might be a parent to someone who is going through foreclosure. A friend. A neighbor. You're affected by it too. Especially if you're a parent. I know how hard our foreclosure was on my mom. She worried for us. So much. Wanting nothing but love, happiness and prosperity for her daughter.

You might be feeling the same way as my mom.

The most difficult aspect is the feeling that there is nothing you can do.

But, you know what? No matter how bad it is, it only feels like there's nothing you can do.

But there is something huge you can start doing now. You can take care of you. Take care of each other. Nurture yourself through this awful time. Love. Commit to rising above the hardship. Commit to turning your foreclosure story into a triumph over adversity story worthy of a Hollywood epic picture.

And this is why I invite you to take the Love in the Time of Foreclosure Pledge.

The Love in the Time of Foreclosure Pledge

I, insert your name here, pledge:

To not allow this foreclosure to get the best of me.
I will mine this financial crisis for every opportunity.
I will stay in communication with my family and friends.
I will stay in communication with the bank and my creditors.
I will learn every lesson there is to be learned from this.
I will live in the moment.
I will ask for and accept help.
I will take time every day to connect with the people in my life.
I will take time every day to do something that makes me happy.
I will empower myself to be happy without the need to spend money.
I will continue to live my life productively and responsibly.
I will acknowledge my fear and act in the face of it.
I pledge to Love. To love others, to love myself and to love my life...

...in the time of foreclosure
...in the time of hardship of any kind

This pledge made the difference for us.

We did not end up in the ER. We actually flourished as human beings. We grew closer as a married couple. We wound up living a huge adventure on a beautiful island that gave us our son. And it is all because we pledged this to each other. This pledge, that we took very seriously, got us through foreclosure and then some.

We invite you to take the pledge today.

Whether you are in foreclosure, facing foreclosure or just fearing foreclosure.

In fact, it can be applied to any kind of crisis or hardship.

We invite you to please take the pledge and declare it here in the comments below.

Making it public does make a difference. Don't keep this to yourself. I know the inclination is to hide your problems. But that doesn't work. That only makes you feel more isolated.

The more public you make your pledge, the more likely you are to keep it. Share it on your Facebook page. Share it in conversation with your friends and family. Just share it.

And please pass it along. Let's make an impact here. Let's end this cycle of foreclosure-related sickness. Let's make this a movement. 

We can make a difference. For anyone feeling alone in their financial problems. Ashamed. Fearful. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Please take this pledge and join us in creating your own triumph over adversity story.

Okay, I think you get where I stand.

Now it's your turn.

Declare your pledge below in the comment section. It can be as simple as this:

I, Steph Walker, pledge to love in the time of foreclosure.

Or even more simple: I pledge to love!

If you're as passionate about this as I am, please help spread this love. Send it to anyone you know who is in financial distress. Anyone who is facing hardship in their lives. Please invite them to join you in taking the pledge.

Together we can make a difference!

Amazon, here I come!

It’s official.

Love in the Time of Foreclosure is going to be published as an eBook! 

What? When? Where? How? I'll get to that. I promise. But first please allow me a moment of reflection...

My first job out of college was as a subsidiary rights assistant for NTC/Contemporary Books, a non-fiction publisher in Lincolnwood, Illinois. A month after I was hired, I flew to Frankfurt for the world’s biggest book fair where I met with publishers from around the world to pitch the foreign rights to our books.

It was very exciting.

The entire publishing industry was there.

In between meetings, I would wander the aisles at the fair imagining my book on display. I imagined someone like me pitching my book to a publisher from Estonia or Norway. My writer soul was filled by the energy in that enormous hall in Frankfurt. One day, I determined, I’ll be back here as an author.

At that time, the word “blog” was non-existent. At that time, I couldn’t even conceive of imagining that I would keep an online journal sharing the personal details of my life during a financial crisis. Or that people would read it. People other than my mom. And that it would actually make a difference for these people.

And that someone would want to publish it.

 

But that is what’s happening.

Frankfurt, here I come! Well, not really. What’s the equivalent of Frankfurt in the digital publishing world?

Amazon, here I come!

Q&A

Does this mean that you are self-publishing?

No. I was approached by a new and exciting digital publisher called Outpost19. They are publishing the book and making it available through digital online retailers. A little about Outpost19 from their site: Outpost19 is committed to delivering provocative reading. We're a dependable source for compelling ideas.

When will the book be available?

If all goes as planned, by the end of September.

What? That's soon!

I know!

Where will the book be available?

Through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google and Kobo.

Will the book be different than the blog?

Yes and no. The book will be comprised of the blog posts that best tell our foreclosure story as well as NEW posts that I never published. There were things I wrote about but was afraid to make public at the time, mostly because I didn’t want to scare off any potential buyers. Those posts will be in the book. The book fills in the gaps in our story.

Why would we buy the book if we can just read the blog?

Great question! This was my number one concern when Outpost19 approached me about turning the blog into a book. First of all, the book is a streamlined way of reading our story. It will be all in one place without having to scroll back through archives. Also, there will be material in the book that won’t ever be on the blog. The book could make a nice gift for someone going through a similar situation. You can easily take it with you on your eReader. You don’t need an internet connection to read it. And lastly, I hope if you’ve been a loyal reader and the blog has made a difference for you that you’ll buy the book as an acknowledgement of that. And I hope you will share it.

Who do you hope will buy the book?

You! Your mom. Your barista. Your lender. Your landlord. Rahm Emmanuel. My mom. Your realtor. Tom Hanks. Your hairdresser. Tom Hanks' hairdresser. The President of Bank of America. Oprah. Anyone who has ever thought about buying a house. Eric Schneiderman. My entire family. Michelle Obama. And even just one percent of the 2.87 million homeowners who received notices of default, auction or repossession in 2010.

 

How did this come about?

I was approached by the publisher. Jon Roemer e-mailed me to say that he had been a fan of LITTOF and would love to work with me on publishing it as an eBook. When I spoke to him on the phone we hit it off and I knew it was the right fit.

How can I help?

I’m so glad you asked! When the book is available, you can buy a copy. You can Tweet it, Facebook it, blog about it, e-mail your friends about it, tell someone face to face old-fashioned style about it, ask your mom to buy a copy, give a copy to your BFF, put a billboard up, create a sandwich named after the book, send Amy Adams a copy, write a review on Amazon, make a chocolate bar called “Love in the Time of Foreclosure” (I’d eat that, wouldn’t you?) and share, share, share. 

I've heard from so many of you that our story has made a difference for you. And I'm so glad. That's always been the point. Now I have the chance to reach even more people with the book. I thank you in advance!

Are you getting a huge advance for this that will pay off your remaining debt?
I wish! That was always the fantasy. But, no. Digital publishing is different than traditional publishing in many ways... one is that there are no advances. But I will make money if people actually buy the book. And that money will go towards paying off our debts. We still owe my mom and Tom, we owe the IRS, we owe the State of California and we owe on our student loans. I have no idea how many books I will sell. I want to sell a lot. I want to sell enough to pay off our debt. Is that realistic? My small-minded and cynical brain says, no. But I tell that brain to shut up and instead say, yes. Yes that's realistic. Why not? Anything is possible in the new world of digital publishing. Just ask Amanda Hocking.

In the meantime I work on what I can control. Writing a book that's worthy of its readers' time.

And with that, I wrap up this post. Time to write. Time to edit. Time to create!

A little country in the city

Fisherman Bob and his Salmon sidekick

When we moved to the island, I had a hard time with the extreme rural and remote conditions. I missed take-out. Driving over 45 miles per hour. And ambient light.

I missed being warm. Other people. Noise. Stores that stay open past five. And the energy of the city.

At the same time, I loved living among farms and farm stores. Chickens and eagles. Cows and sheep. Our request to "live in nature" had been answered by the universe. We'd been longing for this. Green all around. Fresh air. Surrounded by water. Simplicity. Peace. Quiet.

The room to just.... aaaaaaahhhhhh....

My Farm Life Fantasy
I had grand visions of us eating fish that we caught ourselves, raising chickens and growing our own food.

We didn't have a boat or fishing poles. Or friends with boats or fishing gear. Or the money to buy/rent anything required to catch your own fish. So that didn't happen.

Though there was a small chicken coop on the property, raising chickens also required money. And time. And a lot of clean up. And there was the matter of the two eagles that made the two evergreens next to the house their hunting perch. And the fact that I was pregnant and couldn't conceive of carrying a baby and raising chickens at the same time. So that was out.

What about the vegetable garden? Well, I blame that one on laziness on my part. In my defense, I was pregnant. And I had a lot of yard work that challenged me without the task of maintaining a vegetable garden. It would have been all on me since Bob was commuting to San Francisco for work. So... no home grown veggies.

City Mouse/Country Mouse
When we moved back to Chicago... well, it didn't take long for me to start missing the country. Am I never happy? Always wanting what I don't have?! I actually missed the quiet, the darkness, the lack of conveniences. I missed the mountains, hiking trails, farms and country lifestyle. And the people. Of course. We had finally started making friends just before we left.

My complicated relationship with the island is well-documented on both my blogs. Here and here. Loving it and hating it. Craving nature, missing the city. I am at once both the city mouse and the country mouse.

But back to the chickens, fish and garden.

Wednesday night, all three of these things came to fruition in Chicago.

In the big city.

I grilled a big ol salmon that Bob caught fresh that very morning. I served the salmon with tomatoes from our community vegetable garden. And six baby chicks arrived in our backyard.

I'll explain.

The Landlord
First... we have an amazing landlord.

His name is Andrew Gardner and he is a high school friend of our dear friend Cece Tio. And he's an amazing guy. We adore him. He's been so helpful and understanding from the very beginning.

Just like any landlord, Andrew asked for a credit check when we applied for the apartment. Well, I knew we wouldn't pass. So I told him. I explained the situation. I directed him to the blog hoping he might read it and choose to take a chance on us. And he did. And we've been so grateful ever since.

The Garden

Malcolm enjoys a fresh tomato

Andrew is living up to his last name. This garden is unbelievable. I planted a variety of cherry tomatoes, arugula, butter lettuce and rosemary. The rest is Andrew. Here's what's growing in the garden:

Tomatoes
Lettuce
Kale
Kohlrabi
Eggplant
Onions
Red Cabbage
Green Beans
Ghost Peppers
Cantelope
Cucumber
Tomatillos
Cauliflower
Corn

As if that weren't enough, every day I'm surprised to discover something else that Andrew planted that has just started to grow.

Malcolm loves eating tomatoes right out of the garden. As soon as I pick one, he opens his mouth wide and leans in for a bite. He eats them like apples.

The Chickens

Malcolm meets the baby chicks for the first time!

One day I was talking to Andrew and the subject of backyard chickens came up. I don't remember how. Andrew said something about how we should do that. We talked about how cool it would be to have fresh eggs and Andrew mentioned that the fertilizer would do wonders for the garden.

I thought it was a cool idea. But just that. An idea. Nothing more.

Then Andrew ordered a book. Backyard Chickens for Dummies... or something like that. And I thought, hmmm... maybe he's actually going to do this.

Then he started to construct the chicken coop and I thought, "Yeah. He really seems to be going through with this."

Emily, the barista and former owner of the coffee shop down the street asked me one morning, "How do you feel about Andrew having chickens in your back yard? Are you excited?"  And I said something like, "Yeah. But it doesn't seem real."

Then Andrew told us that Malcolm could name one of the chicks. Of course, that meant that Bob and I were naming the chick. We turned to Facebook for suggestions. Bob came up with Terri Hatcher. My grade school friend, Nate, came up with a popular one- Yolko Ono. But it was my Aunt Marlene who suggested the winner: Chick Norris. (We then considered the variation Cluck Norris.)

But it wasn't until the baby chicks actually arrived (in a container slightly larger than a Happy Meal box) that it became real. Andrew really is raising chickens in our backyard! And they are here!

And yes. It is legal to raise chickens in your backyard in Chicago. Here's a Sun Times article on that subject: Raising chickens legal in Chicago, and people are crowing about it.

The Fish
On Wednesday Bob woke up at 2 AM, drove up to Kenosha, Wisconsin with some friends, got in a boat and caught us some dinner. A big Lake Michigan salmon. The trip was arranged by his pal John and they couldn't have ordered up a more perfect day to spend on Lake Michigan fishing. Apparently Bob had the first catch of the day and it took him twenty minutes to reel it in.

I was relieved that the fish arrived home already gutted, scaled and filleted. All I had to do was figure out how to use the charcoal grill. Yes. Figure it out. I'm not kidding. I've never done it before.

I'd seen our neighbors using the chimney to light it. So I just went online and found myself some easy to follow instructions about the chimney and how to use indirect heat on a charcoal grill. It was so easy. I don't know why I make these things out to be such a hassle.

My mom and Tom gave us some cedar planks and our landlord, Andrew gave us his dad's marinade recipe. The recipe involved brown sugar, honey, butter, soy sauce, olive oil and ginger. I normally just prepare salmon with lemon in the oven. Really simple. But I thought we'd try something new. And it was delicious.

There's truly something about catching your own dinner. Or having a husband who catches it for you. It tasted so good.

As we sat in the back yard enjoying the fish that was caught that day by Bob, tomatoes grown in our garden and listening to the baby chicks chirping away, I thought about how fortunate we are. And how funny life is. I guess this is my way of having a little country in the city. The best of both worlds.

It's so easy (if you have a landlord like Andrew.)

P.S. He prefers to be called "slumlord".

Where have all the homeowners gone?

According to this CNN MONEY article, Home ownership hits lowest level since 1965, we are becoming a nation of renters. This shouldn't be too surprising today. But, think about that a few years ago. 2006, for example. We never would have seen this coming.

Actually, Bob and I had a friend who did sell his condo in 2006 at the height of the market. We thought he was insane. Why? Why would you get out of the home owning game and go back to being a renter? Why?! Well, the answer was exactly what you would expect.

The answer was...

BIRD FLU.

Of course. Bird flu.

The most commonly sited reason for selling your property at the height of the housing bubble.

Our friend's mom was the co-owner of the condo and she was convinced that bird flu was going to be so devastating that it would crash the housing economy. I don't quite remember the logic. But, I'm telling you. She was convinced. Thoroughly.

So they sold. And made money. And people thought they were crazy.

In 2006.

Now. In 2011?

They kind of look like geniuses, right?

Well, I think they're geniuses. Or incredibly lucky. Or she has some kind of tricked out ESP. She clearly felt the impending crash.

Take bird flu out of the equation for a second. She knew the bubble would burst and that it would be terrible. So it wasn't because of bird flu. But who cares. She was right.

We've since lost touch, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were back in the home owning game and bought something at a bird flu bargain price. We'll just have to guess.

So, home ownership is the lowest it has been since 1965.

A show of hands, please. How many of you were home owners and are now renting?

Uh huh. Same here.

Now... how many of you are home owners (currently) with rental income?

Have you noticed a significant difference in the market? Has it been easier to get quality renters?

I imagine that the renters that are former home owners make for really good renters. Am I right? We're used to keeping a place up. Pride of ownership and all of that. If you're a landlord, I'd love to here what changes you've seen since the crash.

And if you're a born-again renter, how is it for you?

This article brings up so many points. It's too much to write about in just one post. But, in light of my last post about the American Dream today, I have to point to this excerpt from the piece:

In a February housing finance report, the Obama administration stated that its goal was to "ensure that Americans have access to an adequate range of affordable housing options. This does not mean our goal is for all Americans to be homeowners."

Did you see that? "This does not mean our goal is for all Americans to be homeowners."

Interesting, right? There's a deeper level of responsibility in that rhetoric that I appreciate. It reminds me of the quote from President Ford:

“My goal is homeownership for every American family that wants to own a home and is willing to work for and save for it.” – President Gerald Ford, 1976

 

For every family that wants to own a home and is willing to work for and save for it.

Fair enough, Mr. President. Fair enough.


-Home Ownership Hits Lowest Level Since 1965: CNN MONEY

The American Dream today

In 2006, almost 69% of Americans owned their own homes. This percentage is the highest in American history and among the highest worldwide.
 

“To possess one’s own home, however small, is the hope of every family in our country. That is the American ideal, born of an exquisite sentiment, nurtured by a long national tradition, and proved right by its innumerable practical advantages.” – President Herbert Hoover, 1932

“My goal is homeownership for every American family that wants to own a home and is willing to work for and save for it.” – President Gerald Ford, 1976

“Homeownership is not just a symbol, it represents the American way of life.”

– President Ronald Reagan, 1982

“…for what is the American dream if it isn't wanting to be part of something larger than ourselves? … For most people, these aspirations means enjoying the blessings of good health or having a home to call one's own…”

– President George H.W. Bush, 1991

“Owning a home is central to the American dream.”

 – President William J. Clinton, 1996

“I believe when somebody owns their own home, they’re realizing the American Dream. They can say it’s my home, it’s nobody else’s home.”

 – President George W. Bush, 2002

“One in ten families who owns a home is now in some form of distress, the most ever recorded. This is deeply troubling. It not only shakes the foundation of our economy, but the foundation of the American Dream. There is nothing more fundamental than having a home to call your own.” – President Barack Obama, 2009

  

Every president since Herbert Hoover has made home ownership a cornerstone of the ideal that is the American Dream. The American Dream has become inextricably linked to homeownership and that idea is driven the hardest by our government. In order to realize the American Dream, you must own a home. 

The question that most people curiously do not ask is: Why?

             

Why do we need to be homeowners? 

Why is our experience of the American Dream incomplete without a mortgage? 

Why do we accept this as our guiding principal without question? 

I don’t know. But I did. 

This is not an argument against homeownership. It’s more a referendum on an inherited ideal that doesn’t seem to hold the water it used to.

            

Our government has economic motivations to encourage homeownership. Now, I am not an economist. Not in the least. (Our debt and recent financial history should speak volumes to that.) I can’t speak with any authority on the far-reaching economical implications of homeownership. I can speak, however, to my changing feelings on the subject.

             

I agree with President George H. W. Bush in that the American Dream is the idea of “wanting to be part of something larger than ourselves.” And my whole life I accepted without much thought, that this would include owning my own home. 

I never considered that once I owned a home I would ever go back to renting. So, in that sense, in losing our house we did lose our foothold in the American Dream. This is true.  But this, we discovered, wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

             

President George W. Bush said that when you realize the American Dream you can say “it’s my home, it’s nobody else’s home.” That sentiment is a fallacy in actuality. What is clearer to me than anything is that the real owner of our home was Countrywide- our lender. The banks own the mortgages. You don’t own your home until you’ve paid off your mortgage. And how many Americans are actually able to do that? Not many. I think it’s around 1 in 10. 

What was once widely seen as a pathway to independence has become a form of imprisonment. We Americans don’t own our own homes; they own us. And yet, according to a recent Trulia survey, 70% of Americans still consider homeownership a part of the American Dream.

            

Again, I ask: Why? 

And is that true for me? 

I do still want to own a house again in the future. Once we’re back on our feet. But we’ll be smarter. We’ll have a lot more savings. We won’t invest so much in a remodel. We won’t bank on an upward trend.

It’s still in me- this inherent desire to own property. 

Why am I still attached to the idea? 

Why can’t I just let it go?

I do enjoy being a renter and the freedom that it gives us. I especially enjoy it when something goes wrong with the plumbing, for example, and I realize that I don’t have to foot the bill as the homeowner. But I notice that as much as I love our apartment, I haven’t truly made it our own. I fear putting too much into decorating because it’s not actually ours. We hung our art and planted tomatoes in the garden, but I still haven’t painted the bathroom or found a table and chairs for the kitchen.

Perhaps that’s just the result of new priorities, no budget for decorating and no time for it anyway. Or is it because deep down I’m waiting for a space that’s all my own again?

As President Obama said, “There is nothing more fundamental than having a home to call your own.” But perhaps “having a home” doesn’t have to mean, “owning a home.”

What is your idea of the American Dream? 

Does it include home ownership? 

If so, what sort of home is your dream? (Please share in the comments below)

On a related note, I really enjoyed this post from Apartment Therapy about the American Dream... especially the Frank Lloyd Wright house built in 1937 for only $5,000!  

The Ever Evolving American Dream: Size, Style & Amenities - Apartment Therapy

An entirely ordinary blogpost about not blogging, motherhood and giving birth

Wow, it's been a while. I've sort of wrapped myself up in motherhood and playwriting.... blogging has been in the far recesses of my mind. Things get neglected now that never did before.

My toenails, for example.
My hair.
The floors, alas.
Sometimes the Pug. I know, Pablo... I used to play with you so much more.
It's only natural that I neglect the blog as well. It wouldn't be fair to Pablo otherwise.

The longer I go away, the harder it seems to return.

I keep thinking that because I haven't blogged in so long that my next post has to be amazing. It has to make up for lost time. And that pressure keeps me from blogging.

Silliness.

So I decided to just write an entirely ordinary post.  No need to shatter minds. Just type what surfaces. What has been on my mind.

I know you've been dying to know.

What is really on my mind is where I was one year ago today.

I was sitting on a birthing ball in a motel room in Anacortes, Washington, leaning into Bob and trying my best to breathe through the pain. Malcolm was beginning his journey into the world. One year ago today. It's too much to comprehend.

It really is.

Friday he took his first steps. Already walking.

I'm really emotional thinking about his birth. And I'm so glad that I documented it on my other blog- Two Years On an Island. My mom suggested that I read it out loud every year on Malcolm's birthday. I like that idea.

Now that I'm a mom, the to-do list is never-ending. One important to do on my list this week is WRITE MALCOLM A LETTER FOR HIS BIRTHDAY.

He'll turn one whether or not I write that letter. But, I know I'll regret it if I don't. The dishes and laundry can wait.

And that's that.

How's that for an entirely average blog post. Pretty good, I think. I feel better, at least. Blog neglected no more.

Leaving stuff behind

Wednesdays my mom comes into the city to take care of Malcolm so that I can get some writing done. She gets quality alone time with Malcolm and I get quality alone time with myself. It's a win-win.

Last Wednesday I was at Dolce Casa (my local cafe) writing when I was approached by a stranger.

"Can I ask you something," this young woman began, "I just need an unbiased opinion."

"Shoot," I said. Well, not really. I probably said, "Of Course." Or more likely, "Sure."

"If someone leaves their belongings behind after a move, how long before they are considered abandoned?"

Hmmm.... sounds like an interesting story. We dug in. Turns out she had an issue with a former roommate who had left a bunch of junk behind after moving out. This woman in the cafe had called and e-mailed her former roommate to find out where to send the stuff, but never heard back. For two months. Until last Wednesday. After two months, the former roommate e-mailed to ask about her stuff.

The problem? Well, this woman in the cafe had just moved out of the apartment herself. She didn't know what happened to this person's stuff because she left it behind. It wasn't hers to move.

This got me going. I have no tolerance for this sort of behavior. Let's face it. Moving is no picnic. And in some circumstances it can be utter Hell on earth.

So, yes, I know how tempting it is to just leave crap behind for someone else to deal with. I know how tempting it is to just walk away. But it's just bad form. It's inconsiderate. Your stuff left behind always becomes someone else's problem. Whether it's the new owners or the landlord... someone else has to deal with it.

The night before we had to be out of our house, we had a whole driveway full of our crap. We tried to sell and give away as much as possible. But time just ran out on us. So, we paid to have it hauled away so that the new owners wouldn't have to when they moved in. Why? Because. Call it good form. Good Karma. Either way...

While it's good to let go of your crap, it's never good to leave it for someone else to clean up. 

But I'm preaching to the choir here, aren't I?

This time last year

I'm nursing Malcolm before his bedtime when Bob puts on Malcolm's lullabies and I start crying.

The music takes me back to our bedroom on the island.

To the first few days of Malcolm's life.

The memories squeeze my heart. I ache for that time. Such joy. Did it really happen?

The Putumayo music carries my thoughts further back.

To Malcolm in my womb.

Us on the island.

This time last year.

I looked like this:

And we lived here:

And it was an amazing time.

I loved being pregnant.

I loved living on the island.

And now I love this time with Malcolm actually here in our lives. Here. Now.

 So why am I crying?

Because I'll never have those first moments with Malcolm ever again.

Each day he grows more and more independent. 

He crawls now.

This time last year he was in my womb. Kicking me from the inside. And now he crawls away, squealing with glee. Playing chase.

I'll never be pregnant on an island with Malcolm ever again.

But I'll never have THIS time with him ever again, either.

So I cry.

Because I'm so grateful to have had such an amazing experience.

And I cry because it's gone.

I cry because I don't want to miss anything.

I cry because I know I will.

I cry because it's inevitable.

Malcolm will grow up.

I will look back on today, nursing him in our bedroom in this apartment in Chicago and I will miss today.

I will long for it.

I will try to put myself back in this moment- body and soul.

And I will fall short. And cry.

It's inevitable. It's life. This is how it is.

I cry because it's all too good.

My love for my son, for my family, for life is just too great to contain in a straight face.

Sometimes, like tonight,  it needs to escape. In big, sloppy tears.

This time last year was the best time of my life... thus far.

And this time this year. Now. Is the best time of my life... thus far.

Because of you.

Malcolm James Walker.

GLEE in the time of foreclosure

Tonight I found myself relating to one of the characters on GLEE. No, not bossy, control-freak, everything's-about-me-all-the-time Rachel. At least not tonight. Tonight it was Sam. And no, not because of his giant lips but because of...

SPOILER ALERT: Do not keep reading if you don't want to know what happened on tonight's episode.

...his living situation. It turns out that Sam, the new kid at McKinley, is a recent victim of the housing crisis. In tonight's episode we discover that he and his parents and younger brother and sister are now all living in a small, cramped motel room.

Why? Well, his dad was downsized soon after they moved. According to Sam, they spent a lot of money on the move and the new house which put them in a difficult situation when his dad lost his job. It apparently wasn't long before the bank took back the house (TV time is much more condensed than real time.)

Yes, this story line does appear out of the blue. And because of that, it feels superficially manufactured and therefore somewhat (okay, slightly more than somewhat) unbelievable. I mean, I could totally pick it apart. I mean seriously, Sam. Your dad just lost his job and you already lost your house?! Come on, people. Banks don't move that fast!

But again, this is TV. And it's not only TV. It's GLEE. Which requires viewers to suspend disbelief several dimensions beyond normal. However, I'm looking past all of this because I think the subject is that important.

So, back to Sam and his new-found poverty. Turns out Sam's family sold almost all of their belongings (I totally related) and moved into this tiny motel room (luckily my family took us in or we might have ended up in a motel room too). What's left of their belongings is packed in the room and their car. Sam even sold his guitar (I sold my guitar and saxophone, that I never played, for extra cash while fighting foreclosure) and is considering leaving glee club in order to take care of his younger siblings and find and after-school job to help.

Well, the glee club does not want to lose Sam to the local Baskin-Robbins (my after-school job in high school) so they buy Sam's guitar back for him. This makes him cry. And makes me think of all the generosity that came our way when we were facing foreclosure. And after... on the island. So much generosity.

I'm really glad that moment was in the episode because it's so true to life. Okay, I can see how it could seem like a cheesy TV moment. But I'm here to say it wasn't. That sort of thing happened to us! No. No one bought my saxophone or guitar back for me. Thankfully. But, we had an anonymous stranger pay our heating bill, we had friends bake lasagna for us, two strangers gave us a free place to live on a beautiful island! A free place to live on a beautiful island! If Rachel and Finn giving Sam his guitar is a cheesy TV moment, then I guess the last two years of our life have been comprised of cheesy TV moment after cheesy TV moment. And if that's true, then why isn't anyone paying me to write this stuff?!

Just as it wasn't easy for Sam to tell his fellow glee clubbers the truth about why he was living in a motel, it's not easy for anyone to share the truth about facing foreclosure or being so down on their luck. But when the truth comes out, people respond with compassion and generosity. When Sam cried, his tears seemed to be a mixture of despair and relief. A mixture I could fully relate to.

The episode wasn't centered on this housing crisis storyline. It's just what I focused on. The major theme of the episode was rumors. The title was "Rumours" and each glee clubber was tasked to sing a song off of Fleetwood Mac's epic Rumours album. Sam chooses to sing "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow" in order to cheer up his younger brother and sister.

That's love in the time of foreclosure. A perfect anthem for down times.

Thanks, GLEE, for putting a spotlight on foreclosure and its impact on families. I'm sure a lot of kids out there could (unfortunately) relate to Sam's story. And hopefully they feel a little better tonight and a little less alone.

"Don't Stop"

Written by Christine McVie.


If you wake up and don't want to smile,
If it takes just a little while,
Open your eyes and look at the day,
You'll see things in a different way.

Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Don't stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.

Why not think about times to come,
And not about the things that you've done,
If your life was bad to you,
Just think what tomorrow will do.

Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Don't stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.

All I want is to see you smile,
If it takes just a little while,
I know you don't believe that it's true,
I never meant any harm to you.

Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Don't stop, it'll soon be here,
It'll be, better than before,
Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.

Don't you look back,
Don't you look back.


Did you see the episode? What did you think?