Our house has been on the market for nearly four weeks. We've had a good number of showings, but no offers. The market isn't awesome right now, so we're not surprised. It will sell, but probably not in any sort of hurry. When we bought this house six years ago, we were one of three offers the first day it listed. Granted, six years ago the Southern California housing market was insane. Still, it's desirable. Hopefully.
Honestly, it's not the waiting that bugs me, it's the process. It's the wondering if every single phone call is someone saying, "Hey, we're in the neighborhood and wondering if we might be able to take a look at your home." (This happened. I said yes and my doorbell rang 20 seconds later.) It's cleaning all Saturday morning for a showing, leaving the house fifteen minutes before their scheduled arrival, and coming home to a message that they're not going to make it. So sorry. It's hauling my kids all around town so we're out of the way for a showing scheduled between 2:00 and 4:00 pm.
I get that you're probably looking at more than one house and that traffic is unpredictable. But a two-hour window? Is unacceptable. It's even more unacceptable that the window falls directly in the middle of naptime. What do I do? Hold off on naps? Skip them entirely? Put them down and then wake them when they arrive while holding off the dog who's bark-bark-barking his fool head off? (My husband fielded the call. I might have asked that they give me a call when they were on their way.)
I wish we could move now, like tomorrow. I'm so anxious to be in the new house that even the prospect of two mortgages doesn't seem all that bad.