Category Archives for ‘Advice’

I pledge allegiance to the sisterhood of mothering.

When I see a fellow mother on the train with a small child who’s throwing an unholy fit, I will not pretend I don’t see the desperation on her face. I will not ignore the fact that her eyeballs are 10 seconds from bursting out of her head at the frustration of being so very far over the limit of patience one person can be expected to exhibit. I will not politely turn a blind eye the fact that her tantruming toddler just slammed the back of his thick skull into her fragile cheekbone while she was attempting to restrain him and answer her cell phone. I pledge to jump up and offer assistance even as my embarrassed husband silently begs me to not get involved with strangers, because I remember plane rides alone with small children I wouldn’t have made it through without the kindness of strangers.

When I have the luxury of grocery shopping alone, I pledge to let the mom of one, two, three, four, FOUR children under the age of five in and clustered around her cart go ahead of me even though she has more items than I do because I can see if I don’t she’ll probably give up and abandon the cart and her groceries and go home without checking out because she just can’t take it anymore. I’ve been ushered to the front of lines more than once for exactly that look of panic in my eye.

In the restaurant when my children are behaving and eating quietly, I pledge not to judge or roll my eyes at the mother at the next table with the kid who just told her he hates her and he’s not eating the pasta he ordered and then threw the plate on the waitress’s shoes. Instead, I pledge to catch her eye and give her a reassuring smile so she knows that my asshole kid did the same thing two weeks ago at a different restaurant.

At the airport when I see a mom engaged in a heated discussion with the TSA agent about exactly how her stroller is supposed to collapse small enough to fit through the scanner while she holds a 6 month old baby and her 3 year old daughter becomes distracted and starts to wander off, I pledge to yell and make a scene so the kid doesn’t get lost, even if it means I’ll be detained and strip-searched for my trouble.

When I see a kid whose mom isn’t watching pick up an old band aid on the ground at the playground and move it toward her face, I pledge to swat it out of her hand in horror, even though polite society says I should mind my own business.

I pledge to be bossier, nosier, pushier and more involved with other people than the bare minimum, because my children and I wouldn’t have survived as long as we have without similarly bossy, nosy, pushy and overly involved people.

I pledge to be a mom.

Don’t get me wrong, I totally dig my kids and hubs. I have a good thing going here, and I know it. I managed to find a man who totally puts up with my shit at a very young age. Most aren’t so lucky. That said, I started this whole ‘being a grown-up and nurturing human life’ crap pretty early. I wasn’t a teen mom or anything (obvs. Or you would know me from my US Weekly cover shoots), but I definitely skipped a certain amount of early 20s shenanigans in favor of diaper changing.

Because my kids are finally reaching a slightly more self-sufficient stage, I’ve had a little more time to think about things that I want to do for me: activities, travel, hobbies, life dreams, etc. I realized, there are a few things I wish I could go back and do under the protection of ‘Young and Stupid’ that I will never be able to get away with at this point.

So just to help everyone who hasn’t yet made that jump into parenthood and responsible adultness, but is considering it, I’ve made a list of 10 things I wish I could go back and do before I had kids:

1. Dye my hair blue - I’ve totally always wanted to sport an alternative look. Now it would just be a detriment to my kids’ abilities to score playdates. “Jared, you want to go to Gray’s house after school? Isn’t his mom the one in her 30s with blue hair? I think she has mental problems, it’s a bad idea.”

2. Join an acrobatic troop - I was a gymnast for years when I was a kid and a diver in high school. What I wouldn’t kill for now to be in the Sea World dolphins and divers show? Or do a stint in a Vegas show involving trapezes and sparkly pasties? I’m obviously too old and fat to learn the trade now, but hot damn to I wish I could go back and rock that shit when I was 20.

3. Live in a foreign country - I know if Jason and I decided we really wanted to move to Uruguay or something, technically we could. But obviously we wouldn’t. The ridiculousness of finding schools and jobs and housing and packing up all of our stuff infinitely outweighs the romanticism of experiencing the daily life of another culture. Let me tell you, though, if I was 23 and single and could find any excuse to spend a summer working at a Gelato stand in Rome? I would jump at it.

4. Have a job I spend 12 hours a day at - I know it seems ridiculous to want a chance to work myself to death, but I’ve never really had the opportunity to hold a job I could give EVERYTHING to. I graduated from college and had a baby 2 months later. 7 weeks after that I started my first adult job. There’s a certain decadence to the idea of being only committed to doing your job awesomely. I’ve never even actually worked through dinner.

5. Own a piece of white furniture - Did you see that episode of The Rachel Zoe Project where she had her house designed all in gorgeous white couches and rugs and accents and amazingness? Yeah, all I could think about while watching that was that it would immediately look like a Jackson Pollock painting if it was in my house.

6. Pose for an artist - I’m not saying I was gorgeous before I had kids, but it would be nice to have proof that I didn’t always have a roadmap of stretchmarks.

7. Try out for The Amazing Race - which totally didn’t exist before I had kids, but whatever, this is my fantasy. I think my sister and I would rock TAR. And by ‘rock’ it I mean totally embarrass our family by our lack of natural directionality.

8. Live alone - I went straight from my parents, to roommates, to a husband and a baby. I don’t know that I’d love living alone, but I think it would be interesting to have the experience of being completely in control of my own space and schedule, if for no reason but to learn how I’d deal with it.

9. Attend Burning Man - I’m still not totally sure I understand what goes on at Burning Man besides weird costumes and some sort of artistic chaos, but I have this feeling it would be something I would remember. I also have this feeling that at this point in my life I’d prefer to sleep in a bed and super drugged out people would terrify me or piss me off. I’m obviously too old for that shit now.

10. Chain myself to a tree or go on a hunger strike - Extreme political passion is for the insane or those with the luxury of extra time. I wish I had the energy to save the world from itself, but I’d totally settle for the ability to say I had at one time.

So there you go, kids, if you’ve completed that list, feel free to make the big leap!

I’ve been training for the mid-life crisis my mother says I’m having (in the form of a crazy adventure race I’m participating in this weekend) for the last two and a half weeks. I started out running on the treadmill and as of this morning I’m up to 5 miles in the actual great outdoors.

I’m pretty sure this is officially the farthest I’ve run. And possibly the longest I’ve ever ‘trained’ for some kind of race-type thing. I realize this isn’t something to brag about. That said, I’ve learned many things in this short amount of time. And of course, as always, I’m here to share my new found knowledge with you. So here are 8 things I’ve learned in 2 weeks about running:

1. You should not run like you’re a cat burglar. I’ve always thought proper running form was a fluid, quiet, graceful heel-to-toe placement of your foot. And, well, I’m a big fan of ‘proper form’. My mother always said I had the prettiest freestyle in the pool. My sister lapped me, but boy was my stroke aesthetically pleasing. So I’d been working that heel-to-toe foot placement pretty hardcore until I read Dean’s blog on the subject. That’s when I realized the intense shin and knee pain I’d been experiencing were a direct result of all of the soft-shoe padding I’d been doing up to that point. Apparently you’re supposed to run on the ball of your foot. Which I’ve been doing with a distinct lack of pain ever since. Oops.
2. You don’t have the run the whole way for it to be considered ‘going for a run’. I totally thought walking was cheating, but I’ve learned from other running-type people that it’s acceptable to run and walk in intervals. Intervals are my friend. I’ve also been told by judgy running-type people that running on a treadmill doesn’t really count. The rules are arbitrary and confusing, is what I’m learning.
3. The worst part about Jason’s indie music isn’t its pretentiousness, it’s the fact that I don’t know all the words so I can’t sing along at the top of my lungs. Because I’m not a super music-ish person, I had Jason load my hardly used iPod with his own selections so I wouldn’t have to listen to only my thoughts bouncing around in my head as I run. Turns out the stuff he likes is pretty good. I just wish I knew the words so I could sing along.
4. The internal debate about getting up to run is infinitely more difficult when it’s chilly and dark. It does help, however, to remind myself that running after Jason gets home at night exponentially increases the chances of stepping on a cactus or rattlesnake in the so-very-darkness of my neighborhood.
5. You don’t sweat until the very most inconvenient and disgusting moment possible. I don’t totally understand the physics or biology of it, but when you run outside you don’t sweat until the moment you get home and want to tweet and facebook how awesome it is that you just completed your run (because nothing really occurs unless you’ve tweeted and bookedface about it) and the sweat just starts pouring off you into your laptop keyboard.
6. Running does NOT make you skinny. In fact, I think I’m getting fatter. It’s really hard to deny myself a lovely piece of buttered sourdough toast for breakfast after I’ve just pushed my body through an hour of non-stop torture. Must a girl have no joy in her life? Shouldn’t the extra 10 pounds just melt away after all of that cardio? No? I have to DIET ALSO? God I feel sorry for those people on the Biggest Loser.
7. Dogs think runners look like tasty snacks for ‘on the go’. As far as threats you experience when exercising outdoors go, I continue to be less afraid of people than I am of cars, but MOST afraid of random dogs with no visible owners who are LITERALLY FOAMING AT THE MOUTH*.
8. Runners totally wear those tight lycra pants for a specific reason and not just because they think they’re better than all the non-runners and therefore can get away with strutting around in public in spandex. That reason has to do with the relationship between loose fabric and extremely painful upper thigh chaffing. This, I learned the hard way. (Stop thinking about my thighs and chaffing. I’m sorry I gave you that mental picture.) It is yet another reason to worship tight pants (even if you have body rolls), which I already knew because of this:

*Warning to all people thinking about running in the McDowell and Hawes area of North East Mesa today. There’s a golden retriever who looks cheerful from far away, but when you get closer you’ll realize he totally has rabies and will fully eat your face off if you make eye contact. I recommend avoiding his gaze and forcing your heartbeat to remain at a normal pace even though you’re totally freaking out and sprinting past him. It worked for me.

Continued from Part 1:

6. Most people have no imagination - Maybe you got into real estate because you can see the potential in even the scariest abandoned property. You know that with a little carpet and paint, a space can easily be transformed. You have no problem mentally removing the 37 posters of LOL cats the seller has tacked up all over his house and replacing them with simple, tasteful decor of your own choosing. That is rad for you, but please know that you are alone in this super-power.

The majority of your clients can’t see past a pastel wallpaper boarder. I agree it seems ridiculous to pay a company to strategically place knick-knacks in an empty house, but honestly, it works. Don’t be afraid to tell your sellers to rent a storage unit and remove exactly half of their crap. No, the buyers aren’t buying the stuff inside, too, but the grand majority won’t be able to see past it to the nice house behind.

7. Real estate is inherently emotional – We’ve already touched on this back in number 3, but here let’s examine why:

Lots of money + Emotional attachment = Crazypants Drama

For the buyer, this is one of the biggest purchases they will make in their lives. They’re usually signing a document committing them to 30 years of significant monthly payments. Only an idiot wouldn’t be a little nervous about whether this is the right choice.

The seller can’t help but remember the spot in the corner of the living room where little Susie (who’s now going through kind of a bitchy phase) took her first steps 12 years ago, while he’s sitting at the kitchen table reviewing the offensively lowball offer from the buyer.

Now throw in the stress of getting a loan, home inspections that will inevitably find random crazy shit no one knew was going on, appraisal values that make everyone involved question their will to live and it’s a wonder there aren’t more homicides as a result of home-buying transactions.

8. Empathy goes a long way – Often times the drama and stress buyers and sellers feel during the transaction are natural reactions they have no control over. While you could react by pointing out how ridiculous it is to be feeling what they are, I haven’t found this to be a particularly helpful solution. Sometimes all a person needs to hear is that what they’re feeling makes sense and is acceptable. Then they are able to process past the emotions and make a smart decision. Example:

Yes, Mr. Seller, it’s pretty shocking the buyer would ask for the framed picture of The Virgin Mary you have at the top of the stairs to be thrown in to the deal. I agree it’s extremely tacky to request someone’s personal religious icons as part of a real estate transaction. But maybe the buyer just shares your beliefs and was really moved by how well the pictures fits in with the house? We can definitely counter the picture out regardless.

9. When you screw up, apologize and fix it – It’s going to happen. You’re going to totally eff something up eventually that will end up being a huge deal. When you figure it out it’s going to chill you to your core. You might pee yourself. Your immediate impulse might be to lie and try to blame it on someone else. Resist this urge. In real estate, most of what’s been done can be undone with a little sweet-talking and usually some cash. You’re probably going to have to dig into your commission. Consider it tuition to the school of life lessons. You won’t make that mistake next time.

I screwed up a deal one time where I was the listing agent. There was some confusing language in the contract regarding the fridge. The seller and I both assumed it indicated the fridge did not convey with the property. The buyer and her agent assumed the fridge was staying. Neither the buyer’s agent nor I got together to clarify this point. At the end of the deal, the buyer’s agent and I ended up splitting the cost of the fridge. We could have battled it out to the end and had a mediator settle the dispute, but I didn’t feel that was in the best interest of my client, and I knew I held some fault in the issue. The language was gray and I should have clarified it up front. Luckily the buyer’s agent felt the same way and was willing to share the responsibility with me. Want to know why this was worth it to me? That seller has both referred me and used me since.

10. People will always have to buy and sell, no matter the market – It’s easy to get overly obsessed with what’s happening in the bigger picture of real estate, but it’s important to keep the many small pictures clearly in your mind. People will always be changing jobs and moving across the country. People will always be needing bigger homes because their families have grown. People will be getting married and getting divorced and needing to make a change because of it. Don’t let CNN get  you down. Just work your game, keep learning how to help people and you’ll make it through, no matter what the charts and graphs say.

I’m considering attempting to short sale a property I own. It feels kind of weird to write about this; sort of like I’m telling you what I wore to bed last night or how much money I made last year (a tanktop and jammie pants, and not as much as I thought I would when I got into real estate). You know, too personal. But then again, it’s not like I’ve ever had much use for things like ‘a filter’ or ‘boundaries’. Both highly overrated, if you ask me.

Anyway, no, there hasn’t been a horrible tragedy in my life. My husband hasn’t lost his job (as of 8:10 this morning when he last checked in), no one currently has a bank account-draining medical issue, we aren’t getting a divorce (geez, I really feel like it’s tempting fate to even type all of that out… Fate, I’m totally not tempting you, swear. Would you like a cookie?). The situation with my rental property is fairly complicated, but basically it comes down to the fact that it was supposed to be an investment, and lately I’ve come to the conclusion that not only is it never going to actually make me any money, but if I don’t jettison it soon, it’s just going to continue sucking resources that could be put toward college saving accounts for the kids or retirement or us until it pulls us all down under with it, like the Titanic.

A few weeks ago I decided I needed to start researching options about what to do with my rental, other than praying oil is discovered in the backyard or that the housing values suddenly skyrocket only in Dobson Ranch, on the West side of Dobson, North corner. When we met with our tax guy a few months back, he’d made an off-hand remark along the lines of: You’re not thinking about shortsellling that rental property, are you? Because that’s a tax nightmare… At the time I was still hoping a band of leprechauns with a collection of winning lottery tickets was going to make the backyard of my rental property their home, so I didn’t ask exactly what kind of nightmare he was referring to. Now that I was coming to terms with the reality my situation, I figured the first thing I needed to do was find out exactly what my tax liabilities would be if I pulled the trigger on this whole ‘steer the ship around the iceberg’ plan I was hatching (yes, I totally mixed my metaphor there, earlier I called the rental house the Titanic, now I’m saying we’re the Titanic and the rental problem is the iceberg. Just go with it).

I started out by calling my tax guy’s secretary and asking to have him call me so we could set up an appointment to discuss some tax issues. He called me back the next day and told me the openings he had in his schedule and then asked why I wanted to meet.

Me: Well, I haven’t done anything about it yet, but I’m considering short selling my rental property. You mentioned there would be huge tax consequences to this, so I just wanted to sit down with you and go over what they would be so I can make an informed decision about all of this.

Tax Guy: Uh… well actually I don’t deal with situations like that. So… I’m going to have to refer you to someone who… has more expertise… in that area.

Me: OK… but we’ve been working with you for years, and I haven’t done anything, yet, I just want to know what the potential consequences would be…

Tax Guy: Yeah, I just can’t help you. Call Tax Guy 2, at 480-666-5555.

I have to admit, this threw me for a loop. I just wanted to weigh the risks. If the repercussions of doing this short sale involved being strung up by my ankles with my hands tied behind my back while an IRS agent systematically plucked every single one of my eyebrow hairs and eyelashes off my face and a football game with no cheerleaders, commercials or halftime show played on an endless loop on a big screen in front of me, well then I probably wouldn’t do it. But if it involved paying a fraction of what I was underwater on the house to the government and then being done with the whole mess, it might be something to consider. I didn’t understand why the Tax Guy I’d been trusting with all my financial advice was abandoning me now.

I wasn’t happy, but I persevered. I called Tax Guy 2 and left him a voicemail explaining the situation and who I’d been referred by. He left the following back on my voicemail, two days later:

Hi Elizabeth, this is Tax Guy 2. I got your message. Um, yeah, I don’t actually do that either. I… just don’t have the necessary legal knowledge. So I’m going to have to refer you to someone else. Tax Guy 3, 480-777-8888.

By the time I got this, I was pissed. And I was frustrated, indignant, defensive and just wanting to be done with the whole thing. I immediately picked up the phone and dialed 480-777-8888. Of course I got his voicemail and left this message, my voice dripping with sarcasm and anger:

Hi, Tax Guy 3, this is Elizabeth Newlin. You’re the third CPA I’ve called in the last week. You probably won’t help me either. I’m looking for someone to sit down with me and discuss the potential tax implications of shortselling a rental property I own, which is apparently akin to asking for advice on how to murder my neighbor, at least according to you people. So it would be great if you could call me back and be willing to help me understand the technicalities of our tax system. Because, you know, that’s kind of like your job, right?

As I hung up the phone my anger evaporated and I thought to myself, I just yelled at that guy for no reason. I’m going to guess he’s probably not going to call me back.

You can imagine my surprise when, a couple of days later I got a call on my cell and had this conversation:

Tax Guy 3: Hi, Elizabeth? You left me a message about wanting to discuss the tax implications of a short sale? I have next week pretty open, do you want to make an appointment?

Me: Uh, yeah! I do! I’m so sorry about that message I left you… It was probably a touch more forceful than I intended it. I was just frustrated.

Tax Guy 3: Oh, I didn’t even hear it. My secretary just gave me the message to call you.

Me: Oh good! I mean, yeah, well it wasn’t angry or violent or anything. What I mean is, when can I come meet with you?

Tax Guy 3: How about next Tuesday at 10? Bring your tax returns for the last two years and all of the financial information about the rental property.

I met with Tax Guy 3 yesterday. He laid it all out for me. He also explained that many CPAs won’t touch these situations because the information is so complicated and difficult to understand. They don’t want to be held liable for a situation they don’t have a handle on. After all of that drama to even find him, it was amazing to me that he sat down and had actual concrete answers for me. The picture he painted wasn’t perfectly rosy, but just having the information has been such a relief to me. It makes me wonder how many of my clients have gone through a similar ordeal in trying to research their own situations. As their Realtor, I can help with the potential scenarios about the process of actually selling the property, but for legal and tax implications I tell them to contact an attorney and a CPA. I had no idea just finding one who could help would be this difficult.

The point of all of this is, I want to throw a shout out to Tax Guy 3, Tim Walch (my blog is incredibly influential, you know. There are literally tens of people I’m not related to who read it regularly). I appreciated his help and guidance more than I can tell him. I will refer him to all of my clients. Call him if you need advice. Tim Walch, 480-557-0561.

It’s a new week. It’s my birthday week. There is much to do and little patience with which to accomplish it. Who wants to show property and negotiate contracts when I have Trapezery to do with my family tonight? Yes, I’m having my birthday party at the Trapeze class. It’s possible I’m an 11 year old girl.

OK, OK, I recognize just because it’s my birthday week doesn’t mean I have the right to get nothing done (I recognize it, but I don’t like it. If it had a Facebook fan page and sent me an email asking me to ‘like’ it, I would totally hit ‘ignore’).

Thus, in an effort to get through this week NOT by daydrinking and shopping for new awesome nail stickers, I’m going to make myself a list of things to repeat that I’ve needed help with lately:

1. The fact that I’ve been working so much lately (especially on the weekends) has probably taxed Jason’s patience with the kids as much as mine is taxed during the evil summer break. I vow to give him some time off instead of informing him, “If you bellow at the children one more time in the next 3 minutes I’m going to hire a hit man to kill you in your sleep.” If I have him killed then there will be no one to watch the kids on the weekends.

2. I still have to get through a 30+ day escrow with that one listing agent. If I tell her that I think she’s a lazy cow with a room temperature IQ right now, it’s going to make things super awkward and difficult for the next month. I vow to hold my tongue. Until after Close of Escrow.

3. If I plan out my healthy lunch and think of it in an excited manner (even if it’s a put-on to fool my stomach) before I’m starving to death, I’m significantly less likely to drive through Jack in the Box and order a sourdough jack with extra bacon and a large side of stuffed jalapenos and then want to drive into oncoming traffic half an hour later when my low blood sugar panic has passed and the guilt has set in. I vow to plan my meals and enjoy my healthy lunches.

4. If I drink more than 2 glasses of wine a night I will sleep like a hobo and feel like lukewarm diet coke the next day (kinda grody). It’s hard to remember this a glass and a half in when I’m cheerful and carefree; but it’s an important lesson. I vow to restrain myself. A little bit. It is my birthday week, remember?

5. If I go to the gym  and walk on the treadmill and do my crunches and pushups, I perform much better at ballet class on the weekend. It’s not fun to work out, but it’s fun to kick leotard-clad ass in class. I vow to work hard so I can be good at the fun stuff.

6. If I keep up on turning my paperwork in to my broker regularly, then I don’t have to spend 2 hours after the transaction is closed compiling and uploading forms. I also won’t have to feel like a jackass when I need a favor getting my check cut out quickly. I vow to try harder to be a good employee to my awesome broker (well, and more so, his wife, Queen Francy).

Those are my mantras for the week. I’m on a quest for perfection (shut up about what a long journey it’s going to be, OK?).