So, it turns out that in addition to a general iron deficiency, my B12 levels are also pretty low. I swear to Yoda, once all of this is worked out, I am going to be such a superhero.
In the meantime, I am taking iron supplements, but for the B12, I have to get shots! It's once a week for a month, then once a month, probably for the rest of my life. It's a good thing the zillions of blood tests I had to take when I was pregnant have gotten rid of my fear of needles.
Instead of being scared of the frequent shots, my first reaction was to wonder about the logistics of it all. The easiest thing to do would be for me to go Monday or Tuesday morning before work, since Steve takes Jack to my mom's house those days. But no luck - that doesn't work for the doctor's office. No problem, I reasoned - I'll just get their first morning appointment, bring Jack with me, and take him to school afterwards.
It's a real sign of how much easier life is at Stately Wasser Manor that I'd even consider taking Jack to a doctor's appointment with me. He is growing up and is a lot easier to corral than he used to be. I also know that he is old enough to understand that Mommy needs to get a shot to stay healthy, just like Elmo did in that book we read. And that it will hurt, but just for a second, and that this time, only Mommy needs to get a shot, not Jack. I don't have to worry that he will freak out, cry, try to escape, or have a tantrum in the middle of the waiting room. Yeah, it might happen, but it's unlikely, and I can probably talk him down from the ledge.
This morning was our first trip to the doctor's office. Jack and I talked all about it, and he seemed awfully proud of his role of helping Mommy be brave. When we arrived, I snuck Linda, the nurse, a Buzz Lightyear sticker to give Jack when it was all over. It was pretty obvious that they don't have any pediatric patients in the practice, since she needed a second to figure out what I was asking.
The whole thing took about two minutes and just could not have gone more smoothly. Jack was not one bit bothered or worried by my getting a shot - and neither was I. He was pleased to see that Linda gave me a Band-Aid, but thrilled with his sticker.
All the way to school, he chattered happily about how the doctor gave him a sticker for being brave. He then immediately showed his bounty to his friend Emma.
My little guy is growing up, and in so many ways, it's a good thing. I can feel confident that taking him with me somewhere unusual is not a total act of bravery, I know just how to take care of him, and I know that he can be brave, too.
Showing posts with label Operation Relocation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Operation Relocation. Show all posts
Friday, September 07, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Marriage Tests
Things are really crazy and hectic at Temporary Wasser Manor at the moment. Shall we recap?
- Temporary Wasser Manor is only temporary, and therefore not ideal. There are times, for example, when I'd kill for a little more closet space.
- We're closing on the new Stately Wasser Manor in record time.
- We have eighty-three gazillion things to do.
- We need to spend a ton of money in a very short period of time. When we left SWM1, lots of little sundries got left behind. So now, for the first time since about 1995, I don't have any flour. Or laundry detergent. Or coffee, for Yoda's sake, to call my own. We are going to need to do some serious work to get New SWM fully operational.
- Steve is starting a new job soon.
- My own job is pretty darned new, too.
- Jack is two. 'Nuff said.
- We're in a new area, with no real friends yet.
- We need furniture.
- We need to find a good school for Jack to go to when Steve starts work.
The list goes on and on. Considering that when I'm stressed, I compulsively make lists, I have to stop myself from continuing. Suffice to say, we're swamped.
Well in the midst of all of this, the sellers of New Stately Wasser Manor offered to sell us their entertainment center. I really like what they've got, and it would be awesome not to have to spend more money buying something new, plus it's already where we'd want it to be. The issue is, would our monster TV fit in it? This TV is ridiculously big, so big that we have yet to find a non-ugly piece of furniture to house it, so big that if I tried to shove it across the floor, I'd probably hurt myself.
The TV, of course, is buried deep in our storage unit. Picture the storage area at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, only with stuff packed from floor to ceiling, with only the tiniest bit of air between items.
Still, we've got to know if this thing will work. After all, we'd be wasting our money if we bought this unit (hee, hee, unit) and it didn't work.
So, Steve and I took a break from our usual stress and took on some more stress. On a swelteringly hot day, we went to the storage space, armed with a tape measure and a flash light. I scaled boxes and rickety towers of chairs. I couldn't get to the TV itself, but I could get to the armoire that we know is just a little bit too short for the TV. We could measure that. (We did, and we found out that the new piece would be too small).
I am really proud of the fact that, despite the all encompassing stress that surrounds us at the moment, despite the incredibly hot weather, despite the scary risky box climbing, and despite the weirdness of the whole situation, Steve and I got along perfectly. No one got irritated with anybody, we didn't have a fight. It was actually kind of fun.
I know plenty of people who have had to take a class before getting married. Steve and I had to fill out some worksheets to see if our values were compatible. But I don't think that's nearly as telling as some basic real-life tests that couples encounter.
I think that before you get married, you should have to put up a Christmas tree together. A real tree, so you have to get the damned thing straight in the tree stand and get the lights on it. Then, you should have to assemble a piece of furniture from IKEA. If you still want to get married after that, then you can.
It seems appropriate that this most recent Marriage Test, one that we passed with flying colors, happened on Father's Day. I am incredibly lucky to be parenting Jack with such a great teammate. Happy Father's Day, Steve.
- Temporary Wasser Manor is only temporary, and therefore not ideal. There are times, for example, when I'd kill for a little more closet space.
- We're closing on the new Stately Wasser Manor in record time.
- We have eighty-three gazillion things to do.
- We need to spend a ton of money in a very short period of time. When we left SWM1, lots of little sundries got left behind. So now, for the first time since about 1995, I don't have any flour. Or laundry detergent. Or coffee, for Yoda's sake, to call my own. We are going to need to do some serious work to get New SWM fully operational.
- Steve is starting a new job soon.
- My own job is pretty darned new, too.
- Jack is two. 'Nuff said.
- We're in a new area, with no real friends yet.
- We need furniture.
- We need to find a good school for Jack to go to when Steve starts work.
The list goes on and on. Considering that when I'm stressed, I compulsively make lists, I have to stop myself from continuing. Suffice to say, we're swamped.
Well in the midst of all of this, the sellers of New Stately Wasser Manor offered to sell us their entertainment center. I really like what they've got, and it would be awesome not to have to spend more money buying something new, plus it's already where we'd want it to be. The issue is, would our monster TV fit in it? This TV is ridiculously big, so big that we have yet to find a non-ugly piece of furniture to house it, so big that if I tried to shove it across the floor, I'd probably hurt myself.
The TV, of course, is buried deep in our storage unit. Picture the storage area at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, only with stuff packed from floor to ceiling, with only the tiniest bit of air between items.
Still, we've got to know if this thing will work. After all, we'd be wasting our money if we bought this unit (hee, hee, unit) and it didn't work.
So, Steve and I took a break from our usual stress and took on some more stress. On a swelteringly hot day, we went to the storage space, armed with a tape measure and a flash light. I scaled boxes and rickety towers of chairs. I couldn't get to the TV itself, but I could get to the armoire that we know is just a little bit too short for the TV. We could measure that. (We did, and we found out that the new piece would be too small).
I am really proud of the fact that, despite the all encompassing stress that surrounds us at the moment, despite the incredibly hot weather, despite the scary risky box climbing, and despite the weirdness of the whole situation, Steve and I got along perfectly. No one got irritated with anybody, we didn't have a fight. It was actually kind of fun.
I know plenty of people who have had to take a class before getting married. Steve and I had to fill out some worksheets to see if our values were compatible. But I don't think that's nearly as telling as some basic real-life tests that couples encounter.
I think that before you get married, you should have to put up a Christmas tree together. A real tree, so you have to get the damned thing straight in the tree stand and get the lights on it. Then, you should have to assemble a piece of furniture from IKEA. If you still want to get married after that, then you can.
It seems appropriate that this most recent Marriage Test, one that we passed with flying colors, happened on Father's Day. I am incredibly lucky to be parenting Jack with such a great teammate. Happy Father's Day, Steve.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Reserved For Family
One of the reasons that Steve and I decided to initiate Operation Relocation was to be closer to family. Since Jack was born, that's been more and more important to us. So far, this change has manifested itself in small ways. We tend to have a big Sunday dinner as a family, which has been nice. I loved having cause to buy a 10 pound ham for Easter. And Yoda knows it's been great having built-in babysitters so Steve and I can go on the occasional date.
Yesterday, though, was extra nice. It was my stepdad Doug's last official day at work before retiring, and his co-workers had a coffee to honor/roast him. Ordinarily, it'd be the kind of thing that I'd think, "Oh, that would have been nice to go to." But since we live here now, we were actually able to be there.
The staff at John Deere, where Doug worked, really went all out. Doug has, for reasons not worth explaining, dubbed himself Lord of the Crystal Swamp. The room where they had the part was decorated to look very swampy, down to the plastic frogs on the tables that Jack gleefully gathered up. Mom and Doug sat on matching thrones at the front of the room, and Steve, Jack, and I got to sit at a table with a sign on it proclaming, "Reserved for Family."
There were several very funny speeches from Doug's co-workers, and Steve and I both also spoke about Doug and his retirement. It was obvious that Doug was really well-regarded and respected. I was really happy to be able to see that for myself and to help Doug give the send-off that he deserves.
Yesterday, though, was extra nice. It was my stepdad Doug's last official day at work before retiring, and his co-workers had a coffee to honor/roast him. Ordinarily, it'd be the kind of thing that I'd think, "Oh, that would have been nice to go to." But since we live here now, we were actually able to be there.
The staff at John Deere, where Doug worked, really went all out. Doug has, for reasons not worth explaining, dubbed himself Lord of the Crystal Swamp. The room where they had the part was decorated to look very swampy, down to the plastic frogs on the tables that Jack gleefully gathered up. Mom and Doug sat on matching thrones at the front of the room, and Steve, Jack, and I got to sit at a table with a sign on it proclaming, "Reserved for Family."
There were several very funny speeches from Doug's co-workers, and Steve and I both also spoke about Doug and his retirement. It was obvious that Doug was really well-regarded and respected. I was really happy to be able to see that for myself and to help Doug give the send-off that he deserves.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Pictures
Now that I've finally gotten around to learning how to get pictures off of my new digital camera, here's a photo essay of what's been going on.
Look at how empty Stately Wasser Manor was when we were ready to leave! Here is Jack, pretending to be a "bad guy," and chasing his daddy all around the empty house.
Behold, more empty space. Just wild.
Here's Jack hunting for Easter eggs. Actually being able to walk and pick up eggs, unlike his previous two attempts.
Easter morning, Jack scored eggs with stickers in them, a Dora DVD, Play-Doh eggs, and some matchbox cars. At the end of the day, he told me, "Jack like it Easter Bunny."
This is when Jack was pretending Roary was a baby. If you look closely, you can probably see a bit of orange fur under those tissues.
Jack proves once again that he's my son by immediately falling in love with Whitey's Ice Cream.
This picture I thought was supercool. Jack is sitting in the wheel well of a gigantic combine at John Deere Commons. The tires on the thing were taller than I am.
Look at how empty Stately Wasser Manor was when we were ready to leave! Here is Jack, pretending to be a "bad guy," and chasing his daddy all around the empty house.
Behold, more empty space. Just wild.
Here's Jack hunting for Easter eggs. Actually being able to walk and pick up eggs, unlike his previous two attempts.
Easter morning, Jack scored eggs with stickers in them, a Dora DVD, Play-Doh eggs, and some matchbox cars. At the end of the day, he told me, "Jack like it Easter Bunny."
This is when Jack was pretending Roary was a baby. If you look closely, you can probably see a bit of orange fur under those tissues.
Jack proves once again that he's my son by immediately falling in love with Whitey's Ice Cream.
This picture I thought was supercool. Jack is sitting in the wheel well of a gigantic combine at John Deere Commons. The tires on the thing were taller than I am.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Surprisingly Cool
Steve and I have made the discovery that our new home, the Quad Cities, is suprisingly cool. If you don't live in the midwest and have become (purely by accident on my part) a bit of a snob about it, you certainly wouldn't expect a section of Illinois that is nowhere near Chicago and a couple of cities in Iowa to have any kind of cool factor. And yet...
There are more independent coffee bars here than there are in all of Northern Virginia. Sure, there are fewer Starbuckses, but Starbucks isn't exactly cool, is it? Almost all of the public libraries here are new and gorgeous AND include yet more coffee shops. Why did no one think of that idea before?
There's a lot more for us, as a family, to do than there was in our old neck of the woods. On a cold day, we were pretty much limited to taking Jack to the play area at the mall (unless we wanted to take a pissed off toddler on a really long road trip). Now the options abound. We can keep things simple and take him to look at the fish, cats, and bunnies at Teske's, a garden store that sells pets. There is a play area at the mall here, too. The library has a gigantic children's section, including. Or, we can get more creative. Steve tells me that the Children's Museum in Bettendorf is amazing. I had a great time taking Jack to John Deere Pavillion to climb on all of the tractors they had displayed. There is a cute little zoo to go to when the weather gets nice, plus several other museums we haven't visited yet. All that, plus plenty of parks, walks along the river, and so on.
And life is indeed simpler and slower. This morning was really a great one for me. I woke up, got dressed, and had time to drink coffee, read the paper, and cook a pot of steel-cut oatmeal. Then, I woke up Jack and got him dressed. He wanted both waffles and eggs for breakfast, and I not only had enough time to make them for him, but also to watch a bit of Dora before work. That drive to work took about 13 minutes and included a nice drive along the Mississippi River, where I watched a barge drift along.
Plus, Jack just called to tell me that he went poopy in the potty. Life is good.
There are more independent coffee bars here than there are in all of Northern Virginia. Sure, there are fewer Starbuckses, but Starbucks isn't exactly cool, is it? Almost all of the public libraries here are new and gorgeous AND include yet more coffee shops. Why did no one think of that idea before?
There's a lot more for us, as a family, to do than there was in our old neck of the woods. On a cold day, we were pretty much limited to taking Jack to the play area at the mall (unless we wanted to take a pissed off toddler on a really long road trip). Now the options abound. We can keep things simple and take him to look at the fish, cats, and bunnies at Teske's, a garden store that sells pets. There is a play area at the mall here, too. The library has a gigantic children's section, including. Or, we can get more creative. Steve tells me that the Children's Museum in Bettendorf is amazing. I had a great time taking Jack to John Deere Pavillion to climb on all of the tractors they had displayed. There is a cute little zoo to go to when the weather gets nice, plus several other museums we haven't visited yet. All that, plus plenty of parks, walks along the river, and so on.
And life is indeed simpler and slower. This morning was really a great one for me. I woke up, got dressed, and had time to drink coffee, read the paper, and cook a pot of steel-cut oatmeal. Then, I woke up Jack and got him dressed. He wanted both waffles and eggs for breakfast, and I not only had enough time to make them for him, but also to watch a bit of Dora before work. That drive to work took about 13 minutes and included a nice drive along the Mississippi River, where I watched a barge drift along.
Plus, Jack just called to tell me that he went poopy in the potty. Life is good.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Calgon, Take Me Away... No, Farther
It's such a cliche. Women are supposed to take time for themselves, perhaps relaxing with a lovely bubble bath. On Sunday night, I decided to do just that. As I sank into the lovely grapefruit-scented bubbles, my reverie was interrupted with, "Hi, Mommy!"
Jack had barged his little diapered ass right into the bathroom. He asked me what I was doing and if I was going to get "all clean." I assured him I would, but Jack decided to make sure by chucking all manner of bath products into the tub after me.
I'm pretty sure that's not how it was supposed to go.
But hey! It turns out that working a job with fewer hours and without a stupidly long commute does indeed relax me, put me in a better mood, and give me more time to spend with the boys. Looks like this plan is going to work!
Jack had barged his little diapered ass right into the bathroom. He asked me what I was doing and if I was going to get "all clean." I assured him I would, but Jack decided to make sure by chucking all manner of bath products into the tub after me.
I'm pretty sure that's not how it was supposed to go.
But hey! It turns out that working a job with fewer hours and without a stupidly long commute does indeed relax me, put me in a better mood, and give me more time to spend with the boys. Looks like this plan is going to work!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Make That Three Unemployed Adults...
Temporary Wasser Manor no longer includes four unemployed adults and a toddler, because I got a new job! I start on Monday and am totally excited.
This is great news for all of us. Steve and I really didn't anticipate either of us getting a job this soon. Now we won't have to dip into our savings to pay monthly expenses, instead using that money to buy the eventual new Stately Wasser Manor, or to buy a new car, or something cool like that. It also takes the pressure off of Steve so he can spend more time writing and looking for the right job, not just something to pay the bills.
Steve, Jack, and I celebrated last night by going out for pizza and ice cream. Years ago, I would not have thought that was a worthy celebration, thinking I'd need some fancy restaurant, at least not one with paper napkins. But this was all about our family and it was just nice being with my guys.
This is great news for all of us. Steve and I really didn't anticipate either of us getting a job this soon. Now we won't have to dip into our savings to pay monthly expenses, instead using that money to buy the eventual new Stately Wasser Manor, or to buy a new car, or something cool like that. It also takes the pressure off of Steve so he can spend more time writing and looking for the right job, not just something to pay the bills.
Steve, Jack, and I celebrated last night by going out for pizza and ice cream. Years ago, I would not have thought that was a worthy celebration, thinking I'd need some fancy restaurant, at least not one with paper napkins. But this was all about our family and it was just nice being with my guys.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Temporary Wasser Manor
We did it! Steve, Jack, and I have moved halfway across the country. Stately Wasser Manor is sold, and we are currently residing in Temporary Wasser Manor, also known as my mom and step-dad's house.
Things are going surprisingly well, especially considering that we have four unemployed adults (Doug and Nancy are now retired) and a toddler living under one roof. If that's not the makings of a sitcom, I don't know what is. Everyone is respecting each other's space, and we're all making an effort to be considerate and clean up after ourselves. Well, except for Jack, who is content to scatter crayons all over the place.
Steve and I were both really concerned about how Jack would adjust to the new environment. There are just so many changes, and the only things that are really familiar are Mommy, Daddy, and Roary. For the first few days, he was incredibly clingy. He tugged at me constantly, saying, "Mommy! Come on!" He got upset when either of us left the room. He also kept referring to stuff that was "at home." He and Steve were driving, and he wanted to stop watching Nemo and switch to Monsters, Inc. Steve couldn't switch it, so he said, "Sorry, buddy. No Monsters right now." Jack said, "Monsters at home," which just about broke Steve's heart.
But things are getting much better. The biggest improvment came on Sunday when the "big orgish truck" arrived with all of Jack's toys, his crib, and the furniture for his room. Jack felt a lot more secure and was happy to rediscover all of his stuff. We have also been working hard to emphasize that this is "Jack's new house." I was very happy yesterday when we were driving home, and Jack pointed at the house and said, "That Jack's house. Right there." He is still clingier than usual, and he's prone to a major tantrum at about 6:00 every night, but that's to be expected, and it's better than I feared it might be.
As for Steve and me, we quickly came to the conclusion that the midwest is a much better place for us to be. No more do we have to leave at least half an hour in advance of doing anything. Five minutes will get you just about anywhere. And it is remarkable how much friendlier everyone is. On my drive here, I stopped at a toll booth in Indiana. I asked the man working there for directions to a hotel. He looked me in the eye, made a joke, and smiled at me as he answered my question. It's rather sad how much that affected me. Everyone we've encountered has been the same way -- friendly, helpful, and not irritated with us. Despite the fact that I don't have a job and have an occasionally tantruming clinger monkey kid, my stress level is lower than it was on an ordinary day in Virginia. I am really happy that the three of us have made this change.
Things are going surprisingly well, especially considering that we have four unemployed adults (Doug and Nancy are now retired) and a toddler living under one roof. If that's not the makings of a sitcom, I don't know what is. Everyone is respecting each other's space, and we're all making an effort to be considerate and clean up after ourselves. Well, except for Jack, who is content to scatter crayons all over the place.
Steve and I were both really concerned about how Jack would adjust to the new environment. There are just so many changes, and the only things that are really familiar are Mommy, Daddy, and Roary. For the first few days, he was incredibly clingy. He tugged at me constantly, saying, "Mommy! Come on!" He got upset when either of us left the room. He also kept referring to stuff that was "at home." He and Steve were driving, and he wanted to stop watching Nemo and switch to Monsters, Inc. Steve couldn't switch it, so he said, "Sorry, buddy. No Monsters right now." Jack said, "Monsters at home," which just about broke Steve's heart.
But things are getting much better. The biggest improvment came on Sunday when the "big orgish truck" arrived with all of Jack's toys, his crib, and the furniture for his room. Jack felt a lot more secure and was happy to rediscover all of his stuff. We have also been working hard to emphasize that this is "Jack's new house." I was very happy yesterday when we were driving home, and Jack pointed at the house and said, "That Jack's house. Right there." He is still clingier than usual, and he's prone to a major tantrum at about 6:00 every night, but that's to be expected, and it's better than I feared it might be.
As for Steve and me, we quickly came to the conclusion that the midwest is a much better place for us to be. No more do we have to leave at least half an hour in advance of doing anything. Five minutes will get you just about anywhere. And it is remarkable how much friendlier everyone is. On my drive here, I stopped at a toll booth in Indiana. I asked the man working there for directions to a hotel. He looked me in the eye, made a joke, and smiled at me as he answered my question. It's rather sad how much that affected me. Everyone we've encountered has been the same way -- friendly, helpful, and not irritated with us. Despite the fact that I don't have a job and have an occasionally tantruming clinger monkey kid, my stress level is lower than it was on an ordinary day in Virginia. I am really happy that the three of us have made this change.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Still Here
This has been a busy -- but great -- week. Steve and I are officially done working as of last Friday. I've got a great lead on a job, so everybody cross your fingers. The morons at Verizon, after a stunning display of incompetence and poor customer service, finally got our internet up again (the best part was when they asked me if I'd be using service with Verizon at our new address; I almost laughed). And Operation Relocation is well underway.
Steve and I wake up, have breakfast, and make waffles for Jack. Whichever of us draws the short straw takes him to school, where he is horribly clingy. This morning, not even a table full of Play-Doh would loosen his grasp on my leg. Then we spend the morning packing like crazy. We've given ourselves enough time that if we follow our packing schedule, we have the afternoon off. So far, we've gone out for good lunches, wandered through a small town shopping, watched a movie, and generally just relaxed. Even though I'm packing and there are a lot of loose ends to tie up, I am more relaxed and free of stress than I've been in weeks. Hopefully this is a sign of things to come.
Steve and I wake up, have breakfast, and make waffles for Jack. Whichever of us draws the short straw takes him to school, where he is horribly clingy. This morning, not even a table full of Play-Doh would loosen his grasp on my leg. Then we spend the morning packing like crazy. We've given ourselves enough time that if we follow our packing schedule, we have the afternoon off. So far, we've gone out for good lunches, wandered through a small town shopping, watched a movie, and generally just relaxed. Even though I'm packing and there are a lot of loose ends to tie up, I am more relaxed and free of stress than I've been in weeks. Hopefully this is a sign of things to come.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Pregnancy Brain
My friend Karen and I once had a discussion about "pregnancy brain" and if it really exists. She and I agreed that pregnant women sometimes find themselves being absent-minded and forgetting things because their brains are simply overwhelmed with everything they've got going on. When you're pregnant, the fact that you are growing another human being is always in the back of your head, so stuff like where you parked the car just gets pushed out.
Karen and I felt pretty triumphant about the fact that neither of us experienced this phenomenon. She and I, at the time, had the same job, one that required us to keep track of a tremendous amount of projects, all full of tiny details, and all in different stages of production. Being pregnant, for us, was just one more project, certainly not one to be preoccupied with. And by the way, the fact that Karen could be 40, pregnant, and about to be a single mom and not be preoccupied with all of that is a testament to her ass-kickery.
The trouble is that now, even though I am not pregnant, I seem to have a case of pregnancy brain. Between my last week of work, trying to find another job, taking care of the barnacle like clinger monkey that is Jack, packing, moving, trying to find mirror boxes that I don't have to pay $100 to have shipped, and a gazillion other things, my brain is full.
This morning, I got dressed, cajoled Jack to get dressed and get in the car with a combination of gummy vitamins and the Dora "We Did It!" song, only to discover that I could not find my keys. They weren't in my pocket. They weren't in my purse. Great. Now what? Well, I did have my spare key in my wallet, one that the fine folks at Saturn give you for emergencies just like this. I could use that key to drive Jack to school, go to my eye appointment, then to and from work. I wouldn't be the first to arrive in the office, so not having that key was fine, and Steve gets home before me, so no house key necessary. I would, as the sexsay gay visionary Tim Gunn would say, make it work.
Then I realized that I must have had my keys at some point, since I used them to unlock the car. I vowed to search for them, maybe in the front yard, after taking Jack to school. But there was no need. My keys? I was sitting on them.
Karen and I felt pretty triumphant about the fact that neither of us experienced this phenomenon. She and I, at the time, had the same job, one that required us to keep track of a tremendous amount of projects, all full of tiny details, and all in different stages of production. Being pregnant, for us, was just one more project, certainly not one to be preoccupied with. And by the way, the fact that Karen could be 40, pregnant, and about to be a single mom and not be preoccupied with all of that is a testament to her ass-kickery.
The trouble is that now, even though I am not pregnant, I seem to have a case of pregnancy brain. Between my last week of work, trying to find another job, taking care of the barnacle like clinger monkey that is Jack, packing, moving, trying to find mirror boxes that I don't have to pay $100 to have shipped, and a gazillion other things, my brain is full.
This morning, I got dressed, cajoled Jack to get dressed and get in the car with a combination of gummy vitamins and the Dora "We Did It!" song, only to discover that I could not find my keys. They weren't in my pocket. They weren't in my purse. Great. Now what? Well, I did have my spare key in my wallet, one that the fine folks at Saturn give you for emergencies just like this. I could use that key to drive Jack to school, go to my eye appointment, then to and from work. I wouldn't be the first to arrive in the office, so not having that key was fine, and Steve gets home before me, so no house key necessary. I would, as the sexsay gay visionary Tim Gunn would say, make it work.
Then I realized that I must have had my keys at some point, since I used them to unlock the car. I vowed to search for them, maybe in the front yard, after taking Jack to school. But there was no need. My keys? I was sitting on them.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Operation Relocation
Big, big changes are coming at Stately Wasser Manor. It's kind of weird that I haven't written about it yet, but I think the change is so big that it's hard for me to get my head around it. Much easier to focus on the little things, like the fact that Jack had a record three tantrums in half an hour this morning. But here it is:
Stately Wasser Manor is moving.
Moving a lot, in fact. The boys and I are moving from Northern Virginia to the midwest, specifically to my homeland of the Quad Cities.
The change is going to be really good for us. Steve and I are increasingly frustrated with Northern Virginia. It's really crowded and congested here, making just about anything we might want to do a giant pain in the ass. We spend far too much time in the car driving too and from work, and there's just no telling if traffic will be bad or not. today, for example, it took me three times longer than usual to get to work for no apparent reason -- no bad weather, no accidents, just inexplicably clogged roads. Things that should be simple are daunting. Steve suggested a few weeks ago that Jack and I meet him at the mall for dinner and a little shopping on a Friday night. I realized that in order for me to leave work, pick up Jack, and drive to the mall -- which theoretically is not far away -- I'd have to take off work early.
This is also a very expensive place to live. Home values are such that, honestly, one of us would have to have an unexpected windfall for us to be able to afford a single-family home, compared to the townhouse that we have now. SWM is big enough for us now, but I would love for Jack to have a back yard and for Steve to have a room to use as an office. When we move, we'll be able to get a whole lot more house for our money.
In theory, we live in a big area, and there are lots of things for us to do. Great restaurants, museums, and so on. But the reality is, it's so much effort to get to any of those things that we just don't do it. I don't want to drive more than half an hour to go out to eat, no matter how good the food is. I'd love to take Jack to the zoo, but between the drive time and his nap, it's just not possible. Even getting together with our friends can be a herculean effort, such that most of the time, the boys and I just hang out at home.
The other thing is that we are living in this very busy and stressful environment with absolutely no family support. Steve and I are a great team, but right now, our great team only has its two star players, with no one on the bench. I'd love to be able to leave Jack with his grandparents so we could go out to a movie, or even just a leisurely trip to the grocery store. I have fond memories of Sunday dinner at my Mimi's house, and I would like for Jack to be able to do the same thing. I also think about Jack cutting himself on Sunday. If we lived near family, we could have called my mom and Doug and had them come by and shovel our walk and maybe make us dinner so Steve and I didn't have to stress about it.
After surprisingly little discussion (though it's something we'd both thought about in the past), Steve and I decided that it is time to pull up stakes. Northern Virginia, you won -- we're out of here. We sold Stately Wasser Manor and are looking for new jobs. Our last day of work will be March 9, and the truck comes for all of our stuff on March 21. We'll stay with my mom and step-dad until we find new jobs and a new house.
It is hard for me to look at the big picture because the changes are so big and there's so much to do. But when I imagine where the three of us will be a year from now, the choice is clear. It's time to make a change.
Stately Wasser Manor is moving.
Moving a lot, in fact. The boys and I are moving from Northern Virginia to the midwest, specifically to my homeland of the Quad Cities.
The change is going to be really good for us. Steve and I are increasingly frustrated with Northern Virginia. It's really crowded and congested here, making just about anything we might want to do a giant pain in the ass. We spend far too much time in the car driving too and from work, and there's just no telling if traffic will be bad or not. today, for example, it took me three times longer than usual to get to work for no apparent reason -- no bad weather, no accidents, just inexplicably clogged roads. Things that should be simple are daunting. Steve suggested a few weeks ago that Jack and I meet him at the mall for dinner and a little shopping on a Friday night. I realized that in order for me to leave work, pick up Jack, and drive to the mall -- which theoretically is not far away -- I'd have to take off work early.
This is also a very expensive place to live. Home values are such that, honestly, one of us would have to have an unexpected windfall for us to be able to afford a single-family home, compared to the townhouse that we have now. SWM is big enough for us now, but I would love for Jack to have a back yard and for Steve to have a room to use as an office. When we move, we'll be able to get a whole lot more house for our money.
In theory, we live in a big area, and there are lots of things for us to do. Great restaurants, museums, and so on. But the reality is, it's so much effort to get to any of those things that we just don't do it. I don't want to drive more than half an hour to go out to eat, no matter how good the food is. I'd love to take Jack to the zoo, but between the drive time and his nap, it's just not possible. Even getting together with our friends can be a herculean effort, such that most of the time, the boys and I just hang out at home.
The other thing is that we are living in this very busy and stressful environment with absolutely no family support. Steve and I are a great team, but right now, our great team only has its two star players, with no one on the bench. I'd love to be able to leave Jack with his grandparents so we could go out to a movie, or even just a leisurely trip to the grocery store. I have fond memories of Sunday dinner at my Mimi's house, and I would like for Jack to be able to do the same thing. I also think about Jack cutting himself on Sunday. If we lived near family, we could have called my mom and Doug and had them come by and shovel our walk and maybe make us dinner so Steve and I didn't have to stress about it.
After surprisingly little discussion (though it's something we'd both thought about in the past), Steve and I decided that it is time to pull up stakes. Northern Virginia, you won -- we're out of here. We sold Stately Wasser Manor and are looking for new jobs. Our last day of work will be March 9, and the truck comes for all of our stuff on March 21. We'll stay with my mom and step-dad until we find new jobs and a new house.
It is hard for me to look at the big picture because the changes are so big and there's so much to do. But when I imagine where the three of us will be a year from now, the choice is clear. It's time to make a change.
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