The Housing Market

Most of you agreed with me on my sharing-the-sick-bed situation. I think the person who is sick gets to stay in their own bed. I guess my opinion is actually the sick person gets to choose where to sleep, so if you prefer sleeping in guest room/ on the couch when you’re sick, more power to you.

Right now H and I live pretty far from both of our offices, so we would like to move closer. We’re not in a hurry, but we’re hoping we can move by the end of the summer. We’re meeting with our real estate agent this week or next to talk about what we need to do to put our house on the market and to see what she think we can ask for our house. I looked online this weekend to see what houses around us are selling for, and unfortunately there are a couple of really nice houses that have been foreclosed, and they’re listed at about half their actual worth, making them close to what we would want to sell our house. H was like, “Those houses are such a good deal, we should buy one of them!” I am concerned that if even my own husband would prefer the foreclosed house to ours, we may be screwed.

Anyway, we went to two open houses today in the area where we think we would like to move, just to check out what’s on the market. One house was eh, fine, nothing special. The other house was really fantastic, but it turns out that the reason that it is in our price range is that the house has a mold problem that the current owner estimates will cost about $200,000 to fix. The current owner settled with its insurance owner for $200,000, pocketed the money, and is now selling the house at a discount. I don’t get it. Yes, whoever buys the house gets a discount, but then they have to spend $200,000 to get rid of the MOLD, so they aren’t actually saving any money at all, AND they have to live in a house with a mold problem. The real estate agent told us that the mold was all in the exterior of the house and hadn’t affected the interior yet, but I don’t know who would want to take that risk. Why wouldn’t the current owner get the house fixed and then sell it? I have no idea how they think they can sell it now as is.

I’m guessing we’ll try to sell our house first and then look for a new one and make an offer quickly.

You Be The Judge

This is actually not a recent argument that H and I have had, though we have had kind of heated discussions about this in the past, so I’m looking for others’ opinions.

Let’s say you share a bed with someone, and one of you is sick. The sick person is keeping the healthy person awake with his/her coughing or heavy snoring or other ailment. Who gets the bed, and who has to sleep in the guest bedroom?

Option 1: The sick person gets to stay in the bed because they’re sick, so they should get as much comfort as possible.

Option 2: The healthy person gets to stay in the bed because the sick person isn’t sleeping very well anyway.

What if one of the people insists the guest bed hurts his/her back- would that affect your opinion?

Obviously, these are very important issues.

He Still Doesn’t Sleep That Well At Night

B will be 15 months old in a few days. (I’ll stop counting by months once he gets to 18 months; if you are wondering whether I’ll be the weirdo mother who says that her kid is 43 months old, I won’t.) Anyway, B is just delightful and fun to hang out with right now. I am loving being a mom.

I’ve said before that I am not a baby person. I loved B when he was a tiny baby, but let’s be honest, tiny babies are boring. They are all work and no fun. It is definitely different when it’s your own kid: I was truly excited by each incredibly minor milestone – first time he focused on something, first time he was able to grab something, first time he managed to put his binky in his mouth on his own. I remember the first time he managed to put his thumb in his mouth, I gasped and almost cried. YES, I REALIZE THAT MAKES ME SOUND CRAZY. But each little thing was so amazing.

When B was maybe two months old, my mom and I were talking about how little babies are hard. My mom told me that having a baby isn’t fun until the baby is about six months old. I have to admit that for a few seconds I was insulted, like – What do you mean I wasn’t the most perfect and wonderful baby from the absolute instant I was born? But then I got over it and realized that even I was boring when I was three months old.

When B was six months old, I thought he was the best age ever. He could focus on toys and play by himself for a few minutes at a time. He started sitting up about at about that time. We could take him to the park and swing him in the swingset. Then at nine months, I realized that six months was nothing. Nine months was the best age ever. He could crawl and go up and down stairs. He had favorite toys and actual preferences about certain things. He would do silly things in order to make us laugh, and if he did something that made us laugh, he would repeat it over and over to keep trying to get us to laugh. Then B was a year old, and nine months seemed like nothing. His sweet, goofy personality was in full force, and he was just such a little tiny person. And now at almost-fifteen months, he is just so much more. He plays basketball (which involves slam dunking the basketball, playground balls, a Curious George stuffed animal, and blocks over and over for probably 30 minutes a day). He says da da, ma ma, ball, football, basketball, dog, and uh oh (though some of those words are only understandable through context). He is obsessed with dogs and flaps his arms and yells with excitement when he sees one. He can tell that a real dog, a picture of a dog on TV, a photograph of a dog in a book, and a cartoon drawing of a dog, a poodle, a labrador, a chihuahua, and a bulldog are all dogs. I realize how boring that sounds, but it is crazy to me that he can make those connections. I knew this person when he did not even realize that his hands were connected to his own body, and now when we read a Clifford book he has figured out, without my help, that Clifford the Big Red Dog’s weird cartoon poodle friend is a dog.

I like spending time with him. I like reading him book after book. I like taking him to the indoor playground and watching how he interacts with other kids. I like making him laugh. I like dancing with him to Kelly Clarkson songs. I like the game we play where he pushes me from a sitting position to lying down and then he tries to tickle me mercilessly. He hasn’t really figured out how to tickle yet, but he certainly tries very hard, and it always makes me laugh.

He still hams it up for the camera and is just a generally happy kid. I don’t know how I got so lucky.

I don’t normally write things like this because I think it’s kind of cheesy, and I don’t know that anyone actually cares, but this is how I really feel right now, so I guess tough luck if it made you feel queasy.

Argyle Socks

This morning I put on my black pants, a purple shirt, and a black and white tweed-ish jacket. Then I realized I wore the same jacket with a purple shirt last week. I don’t want to start repeating outfits when it is only week 2 of the job, so I changed to a green shirt.

But I didn’t change my purple argyle socks. Oops.

***

I so want to compare the new job to the old job for you. But whenever I think about writing about work, I think: would Lawyerish write about this? She always writes honestly but responsibly/professionally/I’m-not-sure-what-the-right-word-is. Anyway, Lawyerish would not write about her job because she is smart. So I won’t write about my job either. Short summary: it is AWESOME.

Speaking of blog inspirations, I look to MO Mommy for some zen mother inspiration. Last year, instead of a resolution, she picked a word to focus on all year. Her word was “quiet.” I think that’s a really good choice, and it seems to suit her style.

I was inspired, and this year I have decided to pick a phrase to focus on, instead of resolving anything. My problem is procrastination. If there’s something that I think might make me uncomfortable, or might make me look dumb, or is just unpleasant, I put it off. I avoid and avoid and avoid. The uncomfortable situation just gets more uncomfortable. The dishes just keep piling up. The floor just gets even dirtier. I can’t ask the question I’m afraid to ask because now, not only will I look dumb for not knowing the answer, I will look even dumber for waiting until the last minute or pretending that I had a clue what was going on during the avoidance period.

So this year, the phrase I’m focusing on is “just do it.” I KNOW! Could I be lamer? No! But it is working for me. No, my house isn’t pristine yet. But when I’m faced with the phone call that I don’t want to make, I think “just do it.” And I call, and I get it over with. When I don’t understand something and start trying to think of far-fetched methods I could use to find out the answer without admitting I’m confused (which never works), I think “just do it.” And I ask the question, and no one has looked at me like I’m stupid yet.

I’m sleeping better. I’m not having stress dreams. I don’t dread getting out of bed in the morning. I am HAPPIER.

Old Friends And New Friends And Grudges And Accidental Flashing

Remember how my former college friend randomly sent me a Christmas card after years of radio silence? And there was a picture of her with a baby on the card? Well, I realized that I don’t have any desire to “punish” her for ignoring me for years. I don’t need her to know that she hurt me or that I don’t consider us friends anymore. I am glad that she is happy. So I sent her one of our remaining Christmas cards (despite the fact that it is January) with a note that said basically, “Congratulations on the new baby!” (I don’t even know if the baby is a boy or a girl because it was dressed neutrally and there were no names on the card.) Anyway, so there’s your update.

***

B went to his first friend’s birthday party yesterday. He had fun, especially since there was a dog he could chase around, yell at, and otherwise harass. I deem the party a success!

After the party, we went to the grocery store. In the car on the way home, I looked down and noticed that I had huge holes in the upper inner thighs of my jeans. HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THIS EARLIER?! When I tried them on, I thought they felt a little funny in the inner thigh area but didn’t even bother to look. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! So to all the attendees of L’s birthday party who saw me bending down to baby-level, sitting on the floor, going up and down stairs, I sincerely apologize. I did not mean to flash my thighs at anyone, especially some great-grandmas and a little one-year-old.

Come Sail Away

I am actually able to take some vacation time this year! I’m so excited! Here is what I have tentatively planned:

- short trip to San Francisco this spring/summer (visit my dad and Double G) (Double G is my best friend from high school) (both my dad and Double G live in the San Fran area but not with each other or anything) (ew)

- long weekend in Dallas this summer (visit my best friend from college and the baby she will soon be having!)

- long weekend in NYC for BlogHer? maybe?

You guys, I have 15 vacation days, PLUS a few floating holidays, PLUS I will get every other Friday off from May through August. I do not even know what I am going to do with all that time! I am used to using 3 vacation days TOTAL a year.

So… I would like to take off 5 whole days in a row and go somewhere just for fun. If you could plan a 7-day trip and cost was something of a concern, where would you go? Would your answer change if you were taking a baby?

I will answer first since it is my blog. So, having thought about this for less than five minutes at this point, without a baby I am thinking the Carribean, Seattle, or Vancouver. With a baby, I am thinking Maine, Florida, or San Diego. Ok, those answers are literally all over the place. Now you definitely see why I’m asking for suggestions. Suggest away.

The Good And The Bad

Good:  The bathrooms have those really cool Dyson hand dryers.

Bad:  The toilets are only 12 inches off the floor.  I almost injured myself.

Good:  I didn’t trip or fall all day.

Bad:  I wore my comfortable high heels, and my feet are still killing me.

Good: H’s sister was able to watch B today.

Bad: We took B to the pediatrician today, and he probably has a really mild case of pink eye. We have to give B eyedrops twice a day now for a few days.

Good:  I got a laptop and a Blackberry.

Bad:  I can’t access Gmail at work. !!!!!

I’m Sure It Will Be Fine

I never  made a real announcement that I have a new job.  So here it is: I have a new job.  I start tomorrow morning! I’m kind of nervous even though a good chunk of the day is going to be a general informational meeting.  Eeee!  It’s exciting but nerve-wracking to start at a new place where I don’t know anyone.  I don’t know what it’s going to be like day-to-day.  I Eeee! I think I have to wear a suit most days, so I bought two new suits (each 60% off) this weekend.

What if it snows tomorrow and that makes me late?

What if I can’t find the parking garage (despite the fact that I totally know where it is) and that makes me late?

What if I slip on some ice on the way into the building and get a big tear in my suit?

What if I forget the required paperwork (despite the fact that I already put it in my purse)?

What if B’s barely drippy eyes are worse in the morning and it looks like pink eye so we can’t bring him to day care even though I can’t miss my first day and H can’t miss work either?  H’s sister may be able to watch B for the day, but she’d be skipping a class she should go to.

What if everyone turns out to be mean and abusive (even though my bosses have reputations for being good people)?

What if I accidentally say something inappropriate or awkward during lunch with my new boss?

What if I keep procrastinating by goofing around on the internet instead of going to bed and then I fall asleep during the HR meeting?

Eeee, indeed.

Back Again

H, B, and I traveled from December 23rd through January 3rd. That’s 12 days. Traveling. With a baby. Whoa.

We had to leave early on the 23rd to beat the crazy winter storm and make it to the in-laws’ farm. Once there, we were joined by 14 other people. So we had 17 people in one house, snowed in for three days. SEVENTEEN PEOPLE TRAPPED IN A HOUSE FOR THREE SOLID DAYS. I love how dramatic that sounds. Really, it wasn’t bad at all, despite the fact that number of people was significantly greater than the number of beds. I read two books. B’s four-year-old cousin decided that he and B are best friends. Other people took turns holding B in front of a window so that he could stare and yell happily at the dogs who were staying in the (heated) garage. H’s parents watched B so H and I could go to a movie (“The Blind Side”).

After spending six days with the in-laws, we drove a few hours and spent another six days with my family. My family watched B so that H and I could go to another movie (“Sherlock Holmes”) and so that I could take H out for a nice birthday dinner. He’s 32 now!

B was so good in the car. I was practically sweating just thinking about all that time in the car with B. Last time we drove to my family’s, he screamed for at least three hours non-stop each way. This time, there was no screaming and only limited whining. It was amazing.

When we got back home, our driveway was still covered in over a foot of snow. So poor H spent about 90 minutes clearing enough so that he could get the car into the garage, while B and I played in the warm house. Yes, we do have a snowblower, but the end of the driveway where the plow had pushed all the street snow was almost impassable. I had put our mail on hold at the post office, but next time we have to leave our house during the winter, we’re going to pay a neighbor kid to keep our driveway clear. Whether the neighbor kid likes it or not.

Today 12-days worth of mail was delivered, and I had fun going through lots more Christmas cards. I love all the Christmas cards we get, but I especially love the photo cards.

One card really surprised me this year. It was from my freshman roommate, who I don’t talk to any more. I hadn’t had any contact with her for a few years, when out of the blue, she sent me a short letter in June 2008 to announce her engagement. I responded by e-mail and congratulated her but told her that unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to attend her wedding in October. I also wrote a short paragraph about what was going on with me – still married, different job, pregnant and due in November. She wrote back, not sharing any details about her life, but telling me that she would love to come visit me in 2010. I don’t think I responded. I guess I just wasn’t sure what my schedule was going to be like 1.5 to 2.5 years later. Ok, that ended up being a long backstory. Anyway, she sent me a photo card. The picture is of her husband, her, and a baby. No note. I would guess that the baby is somewhere between 3 to 6 months old. My initial reaction is to just ignore it. My second reaction is to just send her one of our cards with a little note congratulating her on the new baby. What would you do?

Happy New Year!

Yes, we are those parents who embarrass their baby by dressing him up in crazy costumes representing each month and then turning those pictures into a calendar.