For real, though

Trey and I have lived in more than a few homes. 

If you count our three month stay with my parents last fall, we have moved 8 times. We are moving into our 9th home next month. We will stay put for a while. Mark my words.  

NINE.  In 6 years of marriage.

Since 2001, when I left for college, I have moved, on average, three times a year. Every year. 

I am tired.

Each home and each move has happened for a specific reason.  We have only owned two of those homes.

The first home, our first home, we bought with the intention of flipping and selling.  We lived there for two years (the longest I have lived in one place in 11 years) before we sold our flipped home and moved into a slightly larger home in the same town.

That is when craziness started.

That home. 

We lived in that home for three months. Maybe 4.  Who cares. All I know is we only lived there long enough to unpack the last box. Then we moved towns.

We still own that bleepity-bleep home. 
Did you know that?

Not fun, by the way, that whole mortgage thing for a house three hours away that you lived in for three months three years ago.  

Not fun at all.

But glorious day.  We have an accepted offer on that bleepity-bleep home. 
(I hope posting this doesn't voo-doo jinx it.)

Assuming the inspection goes well and crazy doesn't hit our life yet again, we will close at the end of this month.

Praise God.

Are you the praying type? That would be totally awesome if you were.  Then you can pray with me that this sell goes through. 

For real, though.  I may need to be medicated if it doesn't.