Tag: court date

Foreclosure, Reality, and Emotional Pain

chancery-court-update

I knew we had an appointment in Chancery court on July 11th. I knew we did.

Sort of.

We’ve had previous appointments with the court and they always sent us something in the mail. Mr. Brickie, after the last court date, said, “I’ll just show up at the date they say to. Just in case.”

I am the one who told him to wait for the papers to come in the mail.

I am the one who flicked the first domino and chose this path.

I am the only one to blame.

Chancery court is so far behind in cases (I said) and you shouldn’t have to take a day off work (a day you’re working overtime, I said) to go to a court date that might not even be yours (I said) and get sent home with no pay for the day and no information (the way they do, I said) even if I want just one. more. stay. before they decide forevermore they are going to sell our home at auction (because one more stay would have guaranteed one more full school year, I said) because they have been so good about informing us of our next court date (I cooed into his ear before we slept at night) and he believed me.

I am so rarely wrong, you see. I do my research and I find out the facts and I don’t share untested theories as fact and I don’t rely on “I hope so” and “It’s probably okay” so he had no reason not to believe me.

Really, everyone believes me. I’m a very believable person. I’m right with astonishing accuracy because I hate being wrong. I do not accept mistakes as a natural outcome of the law of numbers. I am better than that (I said) and we will persevere and get through this (I said).

I was mistaken.

I was not just a little bit mistaken. I did not tell my husband to take an umbrella with him on a sunny day. I was mistaken about something wicked important. Our house (which is no longer our house) that I have the papers stating and have to tell Mr. Brickie about when he gets home from work today (his last day as a 40% apprentice.)

The Reality of the Situation

According to the first lawyer we ever talked to (the lovely, young lawyer who paled and stuttered when I asked, “Out of everyone you’ve ever talked to, has it ever been a wise financial decision to fight for the home?”) who told us our time frame from this moment or, rather, the moment from July 11th when the clock (the foreclosure auction sheriff-at-the-front-door clock) starts ticking like something out of only the largest, scariest MC Escher painting.  We have – about – nine months from July 11th to get out of our home. We might have a little extra time but the real clock – the big  TIME TO START OVER Y’ALL clock is now ticking for real and we are no longer living in a state of flux. Or, as I liked to call it, “Our state of grace.”

In nine months(ish) we are going to give birth to a new life. I have a feeling it’s going to physically hurt less than childbirth and emotionally tear my brain in half. Maybe I’m overreacting and it will be an easy move. We’ve been decluttering for a year here and there and plans are in place for what will come with and what will go in storage and lists are made. So the focus of the blog will change slightly and we’ll be talking about getting ready to move.

Same family stories, just stories about a family transitioning to a new place, probably a new school system, and all the things surrounding the move and the finances getting us there.

Even when you prepare for all outcomes (and yes, I mean all outcomes, you should see my charts) it doesn’t make getting hit in the gut any less breathtaking. You can know in your head you’re making the best possible financial decision and feel with every feel in you that you’ve lost this round of the game of life.

My breath is taken.

chicken-border-bottom

 

The Mortgage Company Won’t Be My Valentine

clockwork heart

This is the part where you act all shocked and surprised in an attempt to be supportive.

Come on, you could look a little horrified. Okay, maybe not.

But we have things in the works, my friends.

Before that (and hopefully before I double-enter seventy more one-line paragraphs) I wanted to update you on The Credit Card Fiasco that Created Christmas. It’s a quick update because the tax return is going to take care of them all and I’m going to tuck them ever-so-gently into my little zipper pouch that I hide on the moon and not use them again.

Crisis averted.

In addition I have enough to pop into an online savings account (out of sight, out of mind) for first/last/security in case that becomes a necessity. No homeless shelters for me!

One of the things that I learned is that there isn’t actually anyplace we looked at that has all three (first/last/security) because they either have first/last or first/security and because I have three names in my head I got all confused and thought it was x3 when it’s not. I’m still saving x3 because then we have a little extra or in case we have to bribe a landlord to ignore my credit report because what’s happening with the mortgage is going to make a landlord that checks that kind of thing cry.

Of course, we aren’t planning on going a traditional route. We are hoping to get a place to rent from a friend of a friend and hopefully that will avoid the whole fiasco.

But every month we postpone that. Every month we don’t have to move is another month closer to Mr. Brickie moving up in the apprentice program and getting those big raises. We have to get through two raises. It’s like a mantra I repeat to myself almost daily. “Just two raises, we just need two raises.”

He is 14 work-days from his first raise.

Thanks so much for asking! Yes, it does make it more painful to be SO close and not there yet. It really does. he should be able to get through it pretty well come Spring but there’s still a ways to go before Spring and breaking ground happens on the next job. (The bright side, of course, is that the next job is already scheduled for Spring so there won’t be any confusion or scrambling to get Mr. Brickie on a job when the weather breaks. Small mercies, right?) In the meantime we keep on keepin’ on.

Back to the Mortgage Stuff

We received thick packages from a law office letting us know there is a court date where all the nasty things begin to happen like sales and transfers and auctions. This means two things happened simultaneously.

  1. We all had panic attacks. I don’t care how prepared you are that is a stressful letter to receive.
  2. We now qualified for programs that wouldn’t talk to me before I had said court date.

Mr. Brickie got on the phone and started making connections. We had heard about NACA a while ago thanks to a friend of mine, but they aren’t really able to help unless you have a court date. Well, it’s possible they could have helped us sooner, but I’m not sure. We filled out the forms and Mr. Brickie had a phone meeting this morning and now I have to fax over a bunch of paperwork to them today.

He has a second (and final) phone interview scheduled with them tomorrow but tomorrow isn’t going to work for us because we have to go downtown to talk to the county legal aid. We can tell them what we’re doing with NACA and figure out who can best help us. I kind of want Mr. Brickie to reschedule the “let’s all go downtown on a train” appointment and keep the “calling on the phone” appointment but he seems to think it’s better to do it the other way.

I have to remember to ask him why. I’m pretty sure he won’t have a good reason. He just goes with things without thinking them through sometimes. He can be so frustrating sometimes because he wants to defend his opinions even when he’s not sure why he’s having them. I get it, he feels like I’m second-guessing him. But I wouldn’t need to if he thought through his decisions in the first place.

You know that last paragraph is totally one sided and he would tell you that he does think things through, right? Don’t take this as gospel. That last bit was mostly venting.

I can be so human sometimes. Ugh. Mostly I can be so, “I don’t want to go downtown on a train with a four year old and I’m going to do everything in my power to convince you that it’s a bad idea because stress, anxiety, and panic.” I hate public transportation. I hate it even more in winter. I hate it EVEN MORE during rush hour. Bringing my child with? We have just entered a whole new stratosphere of stress. Like, punching people stress.

Luckily I have lovely legal drugs given to me by my lovely doctor for that kind of anxiety. I only take them “as needed” so they don’t get a lot of use since most of my life is these four office walls right now. But for this? Oh you can bet your butt cheeks I’m going to consider that a needed moment in anti-anxiety pill land.

Oh! I asked Mr. Brickie about rescheduling the Horrible Train Experience™ and he had a totally valid point I didn’t want to hear. He just told me, “No, we can’t reschedule the “go downtown” appointment because the one we got tomorrow was a cancellation.”

I still don’t want to go. But driving through rush hour will be so much worse than the train. Plus parking is so expensive downtown.

Of course, taking the train is going to be $31.50 round trip for all three of us, plus the taxi we are going to take from the train station because it would be inhumane to make the 4yo walk four and a half (city) blocks in downtown Chicago during rush hour when everyone is power walking to work on auto-pilot, not paying attention to their surroundings. She’ll get totally stepped on and then I’ll get all mama bear and getting arrested won’t get me to the appointment now, will it?

So train + taxi = getting to the law appointment on time.

I have no idea what any of these people are going to do to actually help us. I do, however, know that having help is way better than having no help, so I’m all over it and will happily pop pills and get into crowded trains if that is what it takes.

In case I haven’t mentioned it, both of us have to be at the appointment. If I could just send Mr. Brickie and stay home with the young’un I would totally do that. He would probably prefer it that way, too. On the bright side, I’ll probably get some cute Instagram pics of DD because I’m not going to be able to resist taking her to a Starbucks or Au Bon Pan or Corner Bakery downtown.

How could anyone?

Oh, I forgot to tell you! The reason the mortgage company doesn’t want to be my valentine is because our court date is on Valentine’s Day! Har Har! But also, because once you work with NACA, they do all the talking with the mortgage company and because they do this kind of thing for a living the mortgage company doesn’t get to run them around and give them bad deals like they tried to give me.

It never makes the mortgage company happy when NACA gets involved because another homeowner has stopped trying to DIY and got some professionals involved.

Boom!

Can you think of anything else I should be doing to try and make sure I’m not messing this all up?