Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't turn down granite

There is this particularly cruel process in the special needs community known as house hunting. It is closely related to its cousin called home modification. We can't do the second until we accomplish the first because there are no modification we can make here to fix the issues we have, mainly the stairs at every exit and the cramped bathrooms. The cruelty is compounded because we know that modifications are out there waiting for us and will cost money above what the typical house hunter, with whom we are competing, will need to spend. The 22-year-olds on House Hunters are all 'I want granite counter tops' and I am like 'I want my daughter to be able to fit through the door.' Maybe I am being picky.

Apparently there are more granite counter tops in the world than rear patio doors with stroller clearance so here we stay. Waiting patiently. But not very patiently because I have to stop for a break mid stair-climb everyday after school and keep shutting off the image of Mya and me tumbling down together after stepping on the little fringe I have been meaning to trim off the bottom of my jeans. I nearly lost a finger and the curtain rod this morning pulling the bath chair off its hooks and I am growing tired of taking the doorknob to the hip when lifting her off the floor in her towel. Every time I watch Property Brothers I have this fantasy that they are about to knock on my door and flip some crap house into a open floorplan paradise with a roll-in shower but I don't live in Canada or Austin or wherever the heck they are and so the only people knocking are the teenagers with clipboards. I should probably turn off HGTV because it is giving me anxiety. And what is with the sunken living room? What about 1965 made people want to take a neighborhood full of potentially accessible floorplans in our price range and screw with me! It shouldn't even say ranch in the listing. It should say 1.1 story. That sofa is clearly on a different grade. I guess our buying pool would open up a little if we weren't so intent on allowing Ella and Clayton to some day live in separate rooms. But we are. So here we sit. Waiting patiently. Dropping bath chairs. But so far not dropping children.