bflynn

Buying a house vs. having a baby

I have been thinking the last few weeks about what I was doing this time last year. In the middle of October, on the same day, I found out I was pregnant and the offer on our house was accepted. The pregnancy didn’t work out, but the house did. This time last year was a blur of packing, stress, moving, stress, arranging mortgages, stress and stress.

I’ve finally decided: buying a house is more stressful than having a baby. I’ve done both. I know.

I think the main reason that buying a house is more stressful is because the pressure is on to do it right. For example, you should go house hunting at the right time (which, well, at least we didn’t pick the worst time?). You should find the very best house that you can afford for all your needs. You should choose the correct community. You should check the commute and the location. You should divine what sort of maintenance the house will need. (Note: we offered on the house the same day we saw it. How was this all supposed to happen?) Find a real estate agent. Find a lawyer. Find a house inspector. Find contractors to bid on the work that needs to be done. You will need to liquidate a bunch of your savings — pray you have the luck and foresight to do so on a day the market is up. Get the best possible mortgage. Be sure you read the fine print. Run a budget to make sure you can afford it. Set up a savings account for the inevitable maintenance. Check your homeowner’s insurance. Are you on a flood plane? You better get the flood insurance. Hire movers. Pack boxes.

All of that stuff is completely overwhelming, at least to me. The thing that made it so bad was that it was possible for me to choose wrong or right. It was all about my choice and my agency, and the outcome was entirely my fault. But there was too much to do in a one month period (while working full time, of course) to do it all with the rigor each decision deserved. You sort of tossed your dice and trusted to luck. It worked out for us, I think, but I can see a million ways that it could’ve gone wrong.

Let’s compare that to a baby. First, have sex. Several weeks later, discover you are pregnant. Wait 9 months, slowly and gradually planning. Have a really rough few hours there giving birth. Stay out of work for a month or two or three, granted while you don’t get much sleep. It’s entirely possible that the child you have will have flaws (unlike mine), or disabilities or problems. But unless your child has fetal alcohol syndrome, chances are good that it was just the way luck turned. Nothing you decided would’ve made it different — you just take what you are given and work with it. That can be tons of work and it can be really hard, but you’re not RESPONSIBLE for the decision of what kind of baby to have. That’s rigorous but, to me, less stressful.

Even at the nadir of my parenting (Alone! For a week! With two kids! And one of them not even 6 weeks old!) I’d much rather do this than buy another house. I’ve always been completely gobsmacked by the people who casually mention, “Oh, we bought a house recently.” To me that’s like saying, “Oh, yes. I climbed Everest last week.”

I’m thinking I’m done with both. As far as children go, I have had as many as I plan to have. (At least now — I know this is the sort of statement that comes back to haunt you later.) As far as homes go, I have purchased the house I would like to inhabit until my children are through college. We probably will buy another house at some point, but heaven help me, that point better be far enough in the distant future to be misty.

Heck, kids are even cheaper than the house at this point!

Thane in his newly renovated room in our new house

The view from Thanes window — The view from Thane's window

On my own, pretending he’s beside me

So I have a secret for you. I actually really love my husband. Shhh… I know it’s not kosher to be madly in love with the father of my sons, but there you have it. The truth is out.

This morning I woke up without complaint at 7. (This is how you know it’s really love.) I got myself and my boys ready to go. We drove to the airport, where I spent half an hour saying goodbye to my husband. From the drama, you’d think he was being deployed to Iraq and I wouldn’t see him for another year and he stood a good chance of being killed. In reality, his company runs a big conference every year and every salaried employee is expected to be present and help out. My highly trained, brilliant engineer of a husband is spending 7 days in Nashville doing coat-check. I haven’t decided whether this is a brilliant team building technique, a misguided attempt at cost savings (sorry, engineer salary + travel expenses = much cheaper to hire a local), or some combination thereof.

Regardless, he is gone until Friday and I am missing him sorely already. Let me say first that I really, really don’t know how single parents do it. I don’t have to show up to work. (Actually I had this giddy moment of freedom when I realized that I could be gone as long and as far as the contents of my diaper bag could get me. For a split second I tried to figure out how far I could get and come back. Then I remembered I didn’t have my cell charger….) I don’t have huge monetary constraints. (Hello takeout!) Heck, Grey’s daycare will take him as a drop in which is very likely what I’ll do once the week returns. But man, it’s hard to wrangle two kids by myself. Walking somewhere and not carrying anything or anyone is a huge luxury. You should’ve seen me wrestling it all at IKEA. I couldn’t buy the tasty carbonated beverages due to a tragic lack of hands. The meatballs were purchased with a VISA and at the cost of future feeling in my right thumb. And Grey and Thane were actually being really, really good!

When I was doing my anticipatory dreading of this, I worried about how I would handle the boys when they’re doing their tandem weeping/screaming routine. Granted, entertaining and tending to my sons is definitely a challenge. But I think the hard part will be the loneliness. I was already feeling pretty lonely, spending my days in the company of two people younger than most of my jeans and Spongebob Squarepants. But at least my husband would come home at night and I would deluge him with all the thoughts that had piled up in my head during the day. But I don’t actually have to talk to another adult in person until my brother arrives sometime on the Thursday/Friday border. Of course I will. Tomorrow is church. Monday a friend is going with me to the Museum of Science with the boys. I’m quite sure other things will appear on my schedule.

But mostly, I miss my husband. I really like him. I like doing things with him. My sons are also his sons, and I can lean on him as much as is needed to do those things which need doing.

May my husband return to me soon.

Verizon vs Comcast

While my brother was here, two Comcast guys came to my door. I let them in because I’d actually seen them working on the phone poles lately, so I knew they were legitimate. I pretty much never buy or pay attention to solicitations. That serves me well in some ways (I’m hard to scam) but it makes it difficult for me to find out about legitimate opportunities.

We currently have Verizon FIOS for tv and internet. I’ve been relatively satisfied with it. We have the super duper upload speeds, and a standard tv package and two receivers, which cost us about $111 a month. The Comcast guys were offering better download/upload speeds (likely over the same wires), a land line phone with voice mail, caller ID, call waiting and unlimited long distance (which I wanted and was thwarted getting with Verizon), Starz, Encore, more free On Demand, the first month free, free installation and activation, a one year price guarantee and no contract. The kicker was the free DVR. Oh, and the cost per month would be $95.

I haven’t heard great things about Comcast’s customer service, but that was too good to pass up. So we took it.

The Comcast installation dude was here exactly on time the day he was supposed to be. (Don’t get me started on the rigmarole that was adding the second Verizon receiver, which resulted in me having to take an extra vacation day.) He was professional and thorough. He added phone lines to all the floors of my house. He paid attention to the aesthetics of the installation. He was very polite and quite nice to Grey (who was very sad when he was gone when Grey woke up!) He was here for like 4 hours, but did very nice work. He even set up our wireless router.

The upshot? The internet is working pretty much the same. And I’m very excited about the DVR! I feel like I’m finally entering the 21st century! I can pause! Record! Rewind! Fast forward! SO EXCITING!

Apparently our entire neighborhood is converting. My next door neighbor has the trucks out in front today.

Check that out — an entire post that wasn’t about parenting!

(Waves to the people who are responsible for surfing the web to find out what “the blogosphere” is saying about their company. Well, I kind of hope my blog is sufficiently visible for those folks to find me.)

Wow, this goes faster when you use TWO hands!

When last we left our heroine, she was tired. Shockingly, she is still tired.

Let us contemplate the news of the last few days:

I hate malls. I forget that I hate malls, though. I went to the mall last night and was totally skunked. I don’t get it… apparently gazillions of people are delighted to pay loads of cash for 25 different designer versions of what is basically the same sweater. But no one else in the entire world wants a decent selection of high quality (silver or crystal) Christmas ornaments. No. Everyone else wants plastic or that glass stuff which I personally loathe. And if they don’t want plastic or blown glass, they want ugly. Hrmph.
Thane really, truly manages to know when his brother is either asleep or not present and adjusts his sleep schedule accordingly.
We downloaded Super Mario Bros 3 to the Wii. Newsflash: I suck at it.
My brother. Oh, my poor brother. He reappeared late on Saturday night and joined us for church. After church, lunch and nap we bid him a fond farewell for a fortnight. Bye bye! Then last night, as I settled into the bath, the phone rang. (ring ring!) His clutch gave out on the Mass Pike at Sturbridge. Woes. Fortunately my parents had signed up for the Super Ooper Duper AAA package with 100 miles of free towing, so the car and the boy got here. At 4 am. I sent him off on the T this afternoon, not fully gruntled.
Grey went to daycare today. (I am short on patience — that’s good for none of us.) I had this huge list of things I was going to get done. I did do some good present shopping at Target and online. And I picked up the house and put away clothes. And started tonight’s dinner. And did the whole “console brother” thing. But Thane just wouldn’t sleep today, so the ordering of pictures and Christmas cardage have so far not happened, and I must pick up the eldest in an hour. I also had these fond dreams of going grocery shopping. Yeah… no.
“All the Werys of Pern” is clearly NOT the next book after “The White Dragon”. Does anyone know which one is? Is it “The Renegades of Pern”?
My husband is going to be in Nashville for a full week starting Saturday morning. I’m getting a head start on the dreading. Anyone who’s been wondering when I’ll need their support and love, pencil in that week. (I think Grey may go to daycare the whole week. Seriously, I have NO CLUE how single parents do it!)

The living room is complete

The new carpets have arrived and the makeover of the living room is now complete. I’d originally thought of adding color to the room by painting the walls a fairly saturated color (originally blue, but green in this scheme). With all the color we’ve introduced with the carpet and curtains, however, I suspect that would be too much and that if I repaint that blasted paneling, it should be a white or a cream. I wonder if I could paint the ceiling tiles too….

Internet skills… getting rusty….

When you’re not making a post a day, you don’t feel like you can just update folks on the last 20 minutes of your life (not that I, uh, ever do that…) but you don’t feel really ready to tackle the last 20 days, either. It’s been a definite withdrawal for me to have so much less computer time, and even more importantly very little computer time with both my hands free. Writing a post with one hand is time consuming. (An element to my prolific writing is doubtless the 80 wpm I type. You can say more in less time when you type quickly.)

Let’s see. The defining element of my last few days has been OMG SO MANY GUESTS. Last weekend was a wonderful Mocksgiving. Then on Thursday my beloved Aunt and Uncle arrived in Boston for a big Bible conference thingy, and they stayed the night. This would be the Aunt who can cook amazingly, so of course I felt the need to prepare a decent meal. And of course all my free time was spent chatting with them, attempting to catch up on the last 7 years in one evening. Then last night my brother Gospel came. (I asked why he got off for Thanksgiving break so early. He reminded me that there happened to be a big Bible conference thingy going on and he was at seminary. Huh. Go figure.) Granted, Gospel is much more helpful than guestful. He even raked our lawn this afternoon in the bitter, bitter cold! But still… he’s here much of the week and my Aunt and Uncle reemerge from their conference on Monday night (another dinner). I don’t have much spare time, and that’s taken up what I have. Still, it’s entirely worthwhile.

It got cold here in New England. I’m not a fan of this. I feel like I can’t walk nearly as far; not because Grey can’t handle it but because it’s hard to properly bundle a wee baby. I’m also still struggling with walking with both boys. Problem one is that I have much less recourse if Grey decides to be recalcitrant, which definitely happens with a 3 year old. If I carry Thane in a sling, it’s just too much to also carry the diaper bag and with a potty training preschooler, that’s dangerous. (I can carry one or two baby diapers in the sling, but the diapers and a change of pants for Grey… well, that seems like a bit much.) I don’t like strollers, but I tried that and I discovered that it’s really hard to steer with one hand, making it hard to hold Grey’s hand when we cross streets, etc. And here’s the kicker — I can just about manage Grey and the stroller, but the coffee is too much. (Heck it’s also an extra hand I lack getting into the car.) Parenting is threatening my coffee supply. This is dire, people.

In boy news, Thane has already lost the newborn look and started in on the young baby look. His neck is unbelievably strong — he now holds it steady for quite a while. He still swims in his 0 – 3 month outfits, but has outgrown newborn diapers. I had actually remembered this, how in the course of a day a diaper size goes from ok to way too small. And if you try to make do with the too small diapers to use up the rest of them, you find yourself changing a lot of outfits. Thane really, really likes to be held and wants to be held almost all day. This seems entirely appropriate for a new baby, but it a bit hard to manage sometimes. When he’s feeling fussy, he really likes to be on his belly. In the big Thane-news, he rolled over twice this week. Both times it was from front to back, but still. Rolling over at 3 weeks? I would be more excited about this if I didn’t realize that physically precocious children are a lot of work.

Grey is wonderful. He has been telling us stories lately. “Once upon a time there was a boy named Grey.” He will do nearly anything if you apply pretend reverse psychology. “Grey, I do not want you peeing in that potty!” On the one hand, it’s nice to have something that works so reliably. On the other hand, I’m worried that I’m making trouble for myself. I try to use a very silly voice when I do this, but perhaps it’s not smart of us. Speaking of peeing in the potty training, it’s going slowly. The length of time between when he goes seems to have lengthened, but he still won’t initiate going to the potty and it’s often like pulling teeth to get him to go. I confess to feeling disheartened. On the other hand, he’s been wonderfully affectionate and cuddly with the cold weather. He has grown increasingly sensitive to the emotions of others. “Mommy, are you sad, happy or angry?” he’ll ask. What he’s really asking is “Am I all right with you?” He is also attuned to his brother’s emotions. He’ll come find me if Thane is crying. Sometimes he tries to make faces to cheer up the weeping babe. Sometimes, annoyed, he’ll tell Thane to “Be quiet!” In the amusing anecdote department, Grey calls letters emails. I wonder if they’ll still have letters when he’s my age. Generally, though, he’s been pretty fantastic.

The smallest one stirs. I go.

Pictures!

I have pictures! In addition to my own point-and-shoot contributions, I included some pictures taken by one of my friends (those would be the larger resolution ones at the bottom).

http://tiltedworld.com/brenda/pictures/ThaneandMocksgiving/

Mocksgiving

Eight years ago, I was a newly wed in a grownup apartment with a grownup job and a grownup husband doing the grownup thing for the first time. I had just turned 22. And being a grownup, I volunteered to host Thanksgiving dinner for my extended family of inlaws. Having been raised in a Protestant-and-turkey family, I just could never quite get behind the idea of going to a restaurant for Thanksgiving. Still can’t, truth be told.

There was just one problem: I didn’t know how to cook. I’d never cooked a turkey before in my life. Thanksgiving day, with my new inlaws arriving, seemed like a bad time for a first turkey, especially since my mom (whom I had on speed dial) would also be busy that day. A second problem presented itself, however. Two people cannot eat a turkey by themselves and stay married. Since I was (am) fond of my husband, I invited a few friends over to help us eat it, and broke out my still-new wedding gifts to serve the turkey. I think there were 13 of us for that trial, or “mock” Thanksgiving. We had a fantastic time. We ate, drank, told stories, and celebrated together. By the time the evening was over, we decided we’d had so much fun, we had to do it again next year.

I ended up not hosting Thanksgiving for the family that year. I don’t remember why. But every year since, I’ve hosted Mocksgiving. It’s a huge annual event. People ask me about the dates months in advance. People fly in. (I have a friend from DC here now.) It even engendered a spinoff holiday — Piemas. (Which merits its own post in March at the appropriate time.)

Tonight is Mocksgiving Eve. Usually for Mocksgiving I make: 5 pies, a batch of bread, a turkey, 10 pounds of mashed potatoes, a significant amount of butternut squash, stuffing (in the turkey and outside) and gravy. (It seems like there’s usually something else too. I used to make salad, but no one eats it so I gave up.) It is potluck, so in addition to the vast amounts of food I provide, most folks bring something else too. There is a LOT of food. This year I trimmed down to one pie. I was going to make a lemon merangue too, but my crust collapsed (must remember not to use that pie pan for lemon merangue — this is the second time this has happened). On Mocksgiving Eve, I used to spend a lot of time panicking, cleaning, polishing silver (yes, I actually have silver), and er, panicking. Now that I’ve been doing this for NEARLY a decade, the panic is significantly diminished. I know what I’m doing.

As I sashayed around the kitchen, with a candle lit above the sink and my music in the background and the scent of yeast rising in the hot water, I felt very happy and where I belonged. I love Mocksgiving.

It occurred to me this year that this is one more way in which my children will grow up warped. Piemas is fine — it is a standalone. (Plus, there is no such thing as too much pie.) But after cooking for up to 30 people a week and a half before Thanksgiving, I’m in no mood to cook a proper Thanksgiving dinner. And since we have no family remaining in the area, we don’t usually end up doing, well, anything for Thanksgiving proper. I wonder how old my sons will be before they figure out that not everyone does Mocksgiving, and moreover, most people do more on Thanksgiving. They get the Thanksgiving experience, only a bit earlier and with a slightly less great-aunt-heavy crowd.

There is one thing I hate about Mocksgiving. It is a sit down meal. We all sit down at proper place settings at the same time and eat together at table. And it is inherently important to me that Mocksgiving be held in my HOME. Therefore, there is an upper limit to the number of people who can be invited. I think I topped out at 28. Twenty-eight people in your house is a LOT of people, in case you’re curious. But I have more friends than that. I invite more people than can fit because there are always people who can’t make it. But I hate hate hate sending out the invitations. I can never invite all the people I’d like to. I know there must be friends of mine who feel left out — maybe hurt — that everyone else is talking about this fantastic affair to which they have not been invited. I wish I could figure out some way that it wouldn’t happen that way, but I don’t know how to make that work. Ah well. Generally, I invite everyone I invited last year, minus people who haven’t been able to make it for a few years or whom I haven’t heard from in quite a while, plus a few new folks with whom I’ve become closer. The first few years I was able to throw it open to everyone who wanted to come. I miss that.

But the bread is made, the pie is cooling, the largest-possible-turkey is in the fridge. Tomorrow I will wrestle with it (cursing) in the morning. My friends will arrive with hugs and casseroles. There will be the hard half-hour after the turkey comes out when everything must be done simultaneously. My kitchen, immaculate at the moment, will look for all the world like a hurricane hit it. We will retell stories, contemplate our very full bellies, stay up too late, catch up on gossip and generally have a fantastic time. I can’t wait.

Table 1 - the Grownups table — Table 1 - the 'Grownups' table

The kids table -- I always ended up here. This year I think well be able to do one long table. — The kids table -- I always ended up here. This year I think we'll be able to do one long table.

We usually end up with one or two (or 13) desserts.

What my kitchen looks like afterwards -- I believe this was the year the sink broke.

What I’ve really been doing

If you’ve ever met my mother-in-law, you’ll know she’s a force of nature. When she knows she’s right, she’s like water. She can overwhelm you in one great flood, or wear away at you like long, slow erosion. Fortunately, the focus of her nature tends to be home decoration, where she is (I confess) usually right.

About a year ago, we were in progress on buying this, our first house. I vowed when I moved in not to spend a lot of time or money redecorating/renovating right away, until I knew what was most important. I think I kept to that goal. We did some big structural things (hello insulation!), we renovated the baby’s room, but in terms of decoration? We’re still using some things we found on sidewalks 6 years ago.

I’m not really sure how this happened, but my mother-in-law got me started on the living room. Now, my living room is rather bland. It has a wood floor, white paneling, beige leather couches, a white carpet, white curtains and a wood ceiling. So there are three main colors: brownish neutral, white and kid’s toys. All in all, it was a rather bland room. I think her introductory drug was some throw pillows for the couches to spice it up. Then there was the chair cushions for the chairs in the dining room (same color scheme, but brown wooden paneling). The new lamp shades were really quite necessary since the old ones truly were broken. She reorganized the top of the hutch to pull out the blue accent color we’d opted for. The throws were needed to replace rather tattered ones we were given for our wedding. (Makes me feel old — that wedding gifts are old enough to need replacing. 8 years!)

First, she helped me settle on a color. I thought I had settled on a color — a sort of steel blue. She said it would be a very cold color during long New England winters. I suspect she is right. So instead we went with a sort of sage or celadon with blue accents. We used some sheets as tablecloths to give big splashes of color in the dining and living rooms. We pulled it into the downstairs bathroom and kitchen with towels, rugs and potholders. Finally (and here’s the expensive part!) we have ordered new curtains (living room — may be extended to the dining room later) and carpets (dining room and living room) to complete the ensemble. We also picked out new dishes, which I’m giving a trial run before purchasing enough of.

I’ll post final pictures when the final elements arrive, but here’s how it is so far:

Throw pillows are more expensive than I would've guessed, even at Target.

We got a nice washable canvas tub for the toys under the tv.

You know those TLC programs where people come into your house, tell you what’s wrong in amusing language and fix it over two days with little sleeping? I get that when my mother in law comes to visit. But man, is she right! I’m very excited about a downstairs with, you know, color!

Euphoria

I’ve been pretty euphoric the last week or so. I have reasons for it. I was just blessed with a healthy, sweet, handsome, perfect baby boy. I have physically recovered from the birth in what I consider to be record time. I’m frankly stunned that I feel as great as I do. Other than a certain paunch, not even I can tell that I gave birth less than two weeks ago. My eldest son has dealt with the transition phenomenally. He wants extra hugs and attention, but that I can handle. He clearly fell in love with his brother just as quickly as the rest of us did.

My choice for president won in a spine-tingling fashion earlier in the week and the air feels full of hope that this time it really will be different. The tarnish of cynicism has been polished off our souls — just a bit right now. It feels epic, or at least as though it might be epic.

My husband is home and my family is around us and I have enough of everything I need and everything I want. Thanks to the inlaw phenomenon and sleeping in until 11, I even have enough sleep.

The problems of the world — the economy, the war in the Congo, the sorrows of humanity — they all seem far away from me now.

I’m even doing a pretty good job of not borrowing trouble about how much harder this will all be next week when my support structure poofs away into the ether.

It’s a wonderful time for me. I just want to take the time to say that now. I am more than free with complaints when things are not completely perfect. I should take the time to be deeply grateful and acknowledge it when things actually are as close to perfect as they come.