The day our house burnt down

Events happen, all the time, big and small, that alter the direction of your life.  I've had many of these events come to light, but I gather there are so many more hidden in the shadows that I will never be made privy of.  We all do.  I've been able to piece together so much of my journey so far - But one story I haven't shared, as just recently I've come to the enlightenment of why.  Why am I here. Not here in existence - Rather - here, sitting on my couch, gazing at the lake outside our new home.  

The day I was admitted to the hospital, getting induced into a 30 hour labor with my tiny son Toby, our house was burning to the ground.  Not the house we lived in at the time, the house we are in now. As a fire was brewing in my womb, my son fighting to stay in because I gather he was all too comfortable in my nice, warm, cushiony midsection - the dwelling I've become so comfortable in was literally burning to pieces.  In my head I image the flames getting stronger as my contractions did.  After a few days, Toby was born, and the house was empty, smoldering alone and black.  There it sat, unoccupied for almost 2 years, until we found it. 

It had been a normal sunny afternoon in November when I had the bright idea to take a Sunday cruise around our dream neighborhood, gawking at houses for sale and wishing one day one of them would be ours.  With 18 month old Toby and 2 month old Lyla in the backseat, Parker and I headed out to look at few homes that were listed for sale, and took the time to drive around the lake, gazing at the boats, and passers by.  We wound around the endless streets until we came upon an empty, unkempt colorful cabin, nestled into a small wooded lot sitting directly on a small lake. The house was blue and red and yellow, seemingly decorated by a 4 year old, and had 2 levels of decking wrapping around the side, overlooking the water. In the front yard - a for sale sign hidden by high grass. 

My fisherman husband pulled in the drive, jumped out of our truck leaving the engine running, and scurried to the side deck, disappearing behind the house for a few minutes.  Jumping back into the front seat and shutting the door, he said "This is it, this is our house! It has a hot tub!".  I laughed, wanting to be in complete agreement, but knowing all too well the house was out of our price range. In all actuality, we didn't have a price range. We weren't even seriously looking.  We had a home, on the west side of Cincinnati, in a quaint part of town that was seeing the effects of the housing market at full blast.  The 4 bedroom capecod I had purchased in 2008 was valued at least $25,000 less than I paid for it, and I didn't think I could get close to the payoff amount. Our hopeful driving around our dream neighborhood was just wishful thinking, wasn't it?

When I couldn't find the house on the internet for sale, I emailed a family friend who worked in real estate, and had helped buy and sell many houses for the family.  The news came back that it had been foreclosed on, and was in the process of being re-listed as a foreclosure instead of a private sell.  The next series of events are just proof that everything happens for a reason. 

I called a mortgage company to see if, by some grace of God we would be qualified for a home loan if we rented out our current home.  That day, we were told we were - Given pre-approval for the amount the house was originally listed for.  That list price?? Dropped by almost $50,000 since it had been originally listed for sale - making what was once a unreachable home into arms reach. I was politely informed they had a special going,  I only needed 5% down instead of the standard 20% - which would have definitely made purchasing unattainable. 

A few days later, we walked through the home, being forewarned that foreclosures were infamous for being a wreck on the inside. We opened the double front doors to an immaculate lower level, comprised of a full kitchen, stone fireplace, one bedroom a full bath and laundry room.  The kitchen with gleaming granite counter tops and brand new appliances.  We filtered through the rest of the house, with its brand new carpet, 2 more wood burning fireplaces, 3 more bedrooms and 3 more bathrooms.  An additional, newly remodeled main floor kitchen with brand new appliances. I couldn't help myself from getting excited.  I had such a warm feeling walking through it- such a sense of where I belonged.  All of this overshadowed by the view - a serene lake scene from every level, picturesque from the great room, with windows all the way to the ceiling. We made an offer, and the bank accepted it within two days.  In just 14 days, we went from not even considering moving to owning our second home. When all was said and done, we paid $154,000 for our dream home, in our dream neighborhood.  I thought we would need at least $100,000 more than that.  

I didn't know the home had caught on fire at first.  I found out while doing research on the auditors website, and noticed a remodel permit was issued for fire damage.  I did some digging online and found a news website that had distributed the story, published the day after Toby was born. Turns out the previous owners didn't make sure a fire pit was completely out when they went to bed, and it caught a shed outside on fire that subsequently fell into the house, burning it almost to the ground.  The couple got out of the home fine, but never returned.  I'm told by neighbors there were issues with insurance and fault. I hope they are well now, wherever they are.  Over the next year, someone was at the house completely remodeling it, although no one ever lived it in.  My guess is someone bought it to flip it and make money, but couldn't do it quickly enough and just gave up.  All that said, they did a fabulous job remodeling - and our inspector said everything had been completely replaced, not just repaired. He saw no signs of fire damage (except for the scorched trees), and was very impressed by the work.  

We moved in January, after finding renters within a week of posting our ad.  Lyla was only 3 months old.  Moving with a 3 month old and an almost 2 year old is as difficult as you would imagine.  But a short while later, we were settled, and our kids had a huge open, freshly carpeted great room to share their toys and smiles in. 

Mom and Dad, now able to get a bed big enough for 4. 

We were quickly greeted by our neighbors, who are a young couple like us with a 3 year old and an 18 month old.  What a nice treat to have children the same age as yours so close by. He is a salesman, she is a pharmacist. They were quick to tell us about the Firefighter/EMT a few houses up the street, also named Toby, and the preacher who lived cady-corner from us. For some reason, this news is reassuring to me, even though it is months before Toby's condition becomes bad. Who doesn't need a pharmacist, firefighter, EMT and man of God all within a stones throw? 

I picked up quickly that a babysitter came to their house everyday, her white SUV always parked in the drive by 8am, as I was packing up my little ones to drive them 30 minutes to their old babysitter.  30 minutes, each way, I drove them because we loved their babysitter - and I didn't want to send my children to a traditional daycare because I didn't want to lose the flexibility an at home provider provided.  My hour commute each morning and afternoon though, quickly taking a toll on my workschedule, and forcing me to reconsider our beloved sitter. 

Then, things got bad with Toby, and my mind forgot about the commute and I just made it work while I worried and stressed about his health.  I had no more room or time to think about anything else, especially when the thought of explaining everything wrong with Toby seemed like an impossible feat to a new nanny.  Even I didn't know what was going on. But, just as my worry almost overtook, God stepped in a gave me the shove I needed in the right direction.  Gabbing in the driveway one warm spring day, I mentioned the drive I take to the babysitter each morning, and our neighbor asked if we were in the market for a new sitter.  Coyly, I said that I was, secretly screaming YES, PLEASE!!  He explained that his daughter was going to be attending preschool in the fall, and they were hoping we would use their babysitter so she wouldn't raise the rates for just watching their one son.  I'm not sure how I contained my happiness, but I calmly asked that we exchange info, and I would get in touch with her to talk soon.  Running back inside, jumping up and down at the thought of no more commuting and my children directly across the street whenever I needed to see them. 

A short time passed and I met the sitter simultaneously taking out the trash cans the same time I was, and an instant connection was made.  A friendly faced widowed woman in her 40's, with 4 children of her own and a teaching background, she began in home childcare when her husband died, because she wanted to spend more time with her children.  She's been sitting for our neighbors ever since their children were born and loves them as much as their parents. Her two daughters, 12 and 13, come over with her in the summer and help her, and also get the added benefits of pool time with baby snuggles.  I arranged a play date and the rest is history. Toby and Lyla can't wait to cross the street to play everyday. Already, she loves them, and can't help but gush over them everytime she drops them off each day.  2pm they come home, and both nap till 4 or 5.  A routine that has become so convenient, I have to pinch myself.   

We were meant to be in this home.  We were meant to meet our babysitter because God knew my son needed extra help, and needed me to be close by.  It's hard for me to imagine that it was God's intent to burn down a home and force the owners out so that I could live here, but I also know from experience that even some things that have the appearance of being negative or heartbreaking always have a silver lining.  Maybe the previous owners were being lead to a new adventure, maybe the comsos knew this wasn't the right place for them.  I don't know, I can't explain it.  But I can say, with 100% certainty, that the Jones' are meant to be in this structure, at this time.  We were meant to find the for sale sign, hidden in weeds, because HE knew the warm, safe walls would harbor a lifetime of love and memories for us.  It would allow me the space and comfort to work from home, gazing out of my window at my tiny son and beautiful daughter, and praise his name for my blessings.  

I am amazed at how lucky we are.  

TWO 

Two pounds, two inches - those are the unofficial stats since we've started our new regime of meds, shots and food.  Can you even believe it?? We don't go back for our formal check up for a whole month, but I'm confident our figures are close to accurate.  My little cherub's face is thinning out, growing more mature with his height.  I am loving what I am seeing.  I had to buy new shoes because he grew out of most of his summer ones, his big toe now seemingly huge!  

The other day while splashing at the pool, Toby made a quick friend dressed in an american flag swimsuit, clad with flag earrings.  They were the same size, and I thought for sure when I asked her mother how old she was, she would say 2.  My boy has grown so much !, I think to myself, for sure he's caught up now.  Nope, she was 1.  A little bubble of optimism popped.  I'm not sure why I thought magically 2 inches was all he needed to be "normal", but obviously he'll need more time to catch up.  I can wait.  We can do this.  

Sorry, I had to share this photo of my bikini babe too!

Toby is still an eating machine.  He's feeling heavier by the minute and when I can get him to stand against his door, i'm putting more and more blue dots higher and higher.  What a precious gift God has given us.  Soon, we will have an appointment with an eye doctor. Children with Toby's condition often have eye problems, and this is our first appointment to make sure everything is alright with his vision.  In a month, we start our follow up rounds again - Genetics, Endocrinology, and GI.  Then it's visits with his Pediatrician and Neurologist.  We'll inevitably have lots of sticks over these visits, so please send a prayer his way for comfort and peace in times in pain and fear.  I will be sure to keep you posted, and thank you so much for following and praying!!

Thanks for Listening, 
Lindsey