Living At The Hyatt
So, I now live at the Hyatt.
Like… I’m not just staying here for a bit, I live here.
Gosh, where do I even start?
A couple months ago, when The Guy first broached the subject of moving, we already had an idea of what we wanted, and where we wanted it, because we had done all the research a year earlier; when we had then decided not to move.
So, picking back up where we had left off wasn’t all that difficult. We looked at a few houses, did a bunch of other really boring things, yadda, yadda, and eventually we signed a contract on a house that my husband loves, I am hoping to love, and won’t be finished building until October.
But when I asked my dear friend and realtor when the best time to sell our current townhouse would be, she basically said “now.”
The area in which we live, has a market that is very dictated by the start and end of school. Housing prices fluctuate greatly with people paying top dollar to get in before school starts, and then not bothering to buy at all until after the school year ends.
The last thing we wanted to do was get stuck owning two houses.
Seemed like a bad idea.
But, living in our for-sale townhouse with a new baby, two kids, one with special needs who needs a rigid routine, and being at the mercy of strangers traipsing in and out of the house all day, every evening, and much of the weekend, pushed all of us over the edge at the speed of light.
We needed to GET OUT.
And just like that, an offer came in.
Which I rejected.
Followed by another one.
That I accepted.
Five months before we will have another house to move into.
So we did the logical thing, and looked for an apartment. And what we quickly came to realize, was that the prices on short term lease rentals, are astronomical; especially when you factor in the cost of having a moving company move you two full times.
Plus, the thought of moving two full times in five months, packing, unpacking, packing, unpacking, dismantling all the furniture, putting together all the furniture, dismantling all the furniture, putting together all the furniture (am I the only one whose house is almost entire furnished by IKEA?), along with canceling utilities, setting up utilities, canceling utilities, setting up utilities, and paying a premium for a short term lease…no. Nope. No.
I love my husband, but that, I am not doing.
So we looked at furnished rentals that are made for short term living and included utilities, so that we wouldn’t need to do anything except put our items in storage, move in for a few months, and move out.
But apparently I don’t live in an area where that’s a common thing. The few places that we could find were either booked, or not in any way conducive to our family (3rd floor walk-up with no elevator or nearby parking, I’m looking at you!!).
Also, as I was learning, our very precious family members, the beloved best friends of The Girl Child — Frank and George ferret — were going to cost us hundreds of dollars in deposits to even bring into short term living, and would still have their own monthly rent fee on top of it.
After looking at all of our options, in a fit of incredibly stressed out mental hysteria (or wine. OK, it was wine), I jokingly suggested to my husband that we should just move into a hotel, where we would have furniture, utilities, cable, wifi, a pool, and a MAID.
“It would be awesome” I joked. “Think about it. Life for me has been so difficult, for so long, and since we got married it’s been nothing but chaos what with the wedding, house renovation, pregnancy, baby, The Boy Child’s epilepsy, and work. Wouldn’t it be amazing to move into a hotel where we could wake up in the morning to a free breakfast that someone else has already made, head over to the pool while someone cleans the ‘house,’ and just enjoy life a bit? Enjoy being with the kids, and spend our time fawning over The Littlest during these precious first few months?”
He laughed, I laughed, but in the morning the idea had stuck with me.
If you remember, almost a year ago to date, we were displaced in a hotel while our house flood was being dealt with. We were there for almost a month, and the worst part of it, was that we hadn’t been prepared to be there.
But what if we were prepared?
Thinking about it some more, I couldn’t shake the appealing idea.
I mean, envision it with me for a moment….
Automated System: How many nights would you like to book for your stay?
But what I mostly heard, was swimming pool, gym, nightly patio fire, grilling station, laundry, free grocery delivery, business center where we would have room to work from ‘home,’ free transportation, restaurant, bar (Read: WINE), hot breakfast buffet with OMELET BAR, utilities included, MAID, rooms with a full kitchen and multiple closets, no pet fee for small animals (ferrets welcome!), and just a short walk to a playground, trail, and downtown area.
The biggest shocker then came, when she told me the price, and I repeated her more times than the automated system because I could not believe what she had said.
So, after visiting not once, but twice to check on everything from confirming that the expansive free breakfast offered gluten and dairy free options, and that “free grocery delivery” didn’t included inflated food prices, and making sure that we could actually fit into the suite (being quite surprised that we could), we put almost everything we own except the current season of clothing, our toiletries, baby items, and a couple bins of toys, into storage, and moved into a two bedroom, two bathroom suite, with a pull-out sofa, and a view of the fire pit.
Like I actually live here.
We live at the Hyatt.
I’m enjoying the time spent with my children, and the luxury of focusing my attention on my family for once; Soaking in some of the simpler pleasures in life that I missed out on during all my years of struggle. No ex husband, no domestic violence, no court. No poverty, no food kitchens, no going to bed hungry. No hospital rooms.
Just my kiddos, a much better husband, and time to make memories.
I’m also really, really enjoying the free breakfast. They have everything from sausage, two kinds of eggs, ham, and bacon, waffles, pancakes, and french toast (with toppings!). An oatmeal bar (with toppings!), a Greek yogurt station (with toppings!), bananas foster, cottage cheese, potatoes, cereal, fruit, breads, drinks (even almond milk for my kiddos!), and a woman that stands there, and makes whatever kind of omelet you order.
I love omelets.
The manager even went as far as printing out all the ingredient lists for me so we would know exactly which hot items we could eat, and every morning they place a big pitcher of almond milk out, which allows The Boy Child to snarf down some cereal just like every other little boy there.
Oh wait! Speaking of, be back later, some lady just shoved her way into the kitchen in a fit of anger because there was no coffee left.
LADY, THIS IS A CLASSY ESTABLISHMENT.
Ima grab a couple free omelets, move to a table within earshot, and write this shit up for you.