Surburbia Sunday

My gawd, my husband expanded his yardwork repetoire. Call the media! Hey, I give him loads of credit . . . I was explicit when we bought this house, "I do not do yardwork nor home improvement." And I have stuck to it. Dr. J loathes the yardwork too, having been dispatched to do some of these chores for his mother as a youth (bad memories).

So, I hafta admit, the fact that he DOES do some of these things, well, I find it hot! Sure, I am gonna mock him without mercy, and treat him like the hired help (ooh lah lah), but it is sexy when a man does stuff around the house, especially when it's something outside of their comfort zone.


While Dr. J did the manual labor, I played lifeguard to our Lil Pumpkin, who played in her wading pool on our front lawn. (When she needed additional water added to it, I called for "the poolboy" to come fill it up, hee hee). It was a very white-trash/low-rent moment, as I was laying on our front lawn, sipping Chilean wine from a plastic cup (because I didn't want to risk breaking one of my beautiful Spiegelau bordeaux goblets), wearing my two-piece bathing suit, while monitoring our gorgeous Chinese ball of frenetic energy splash and jump around.

Dr. J managed to capture a relaxed, mellowed smile on my face, while I stiffled a laugh since our Lil Pumpkin had her sunglasses on upside down!

When I reviewed the photos he had taken, I figured out why "the poolboy/landscaper" had been so eager to photograph the Lady of The House . . .

Down boy, down! (But thanks for the flattering photography, nonetheless!)

Micro Meow (meee-yow!)

I have found somebody new. Somebody who warms my legs and loins like no other ever has.

Here's a picture of my new love.

I purposely keep my house quite cool because (A) gas heat is expensive, and (B) I start to have all sorts of allergy/stuffy nose issues if it's kept too warm. But I must admit that I can't keep it quite as cool as I did last year because I think the social worker would give me a hard time if my Lil' Pumpkin turned into Lil' Popsicle. In past years I had a heated mattress pad on my bed, but I am too paranoid about Lil' Pumpkin reaching for the cord that would have to be connected between it and the wall socket, so I was leery of bringing it out of storage, and certainly you can NOT put a heated mattress pad in a toddler's room, LOL!

Lil' Pumpkin SUCKS at keeping a blanket on her (what toddler does?!), and it has already taken me some coaxing to get her to wear footed pajamas (she was a big fan of having me rub her tummy as she fell asleep, skin on skin. I give an excellent tummy rub, so who can blame her!)

But I still worried that she was too cold at night, so I began investigating the possibility of (gasp!) flannel sheets on her mattress. I was raised by an anti-flannel sheet mother ("the pilling, egads!"), and live with an anti-flannel man (no metrosexual likes flannel, unless it's a sleep shirt resting precariously on the shoulder of a Vict.oria's Secre.t calatog model with a peek of pushup bra underneath).

But then I discovered micro-fleece sheets! I bought some for Lil' Pumpkin's bed, and the first night I laid her down to sleep on them . . . ooooooooh, baby! I DIDN'T WANT TO GET OUT OF HER BED, THEY FELT SO COZY AND WARM!!! The next day I ordered Dr. J to pick up a set for our big bed. Ahhhhhh, what a divine night that was!

And now, my by-chance discovery of these micro-fleece lounge pants?! HOLY PHUCK I AM IN NIRVANA, PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!

Micro-fleece pants, micro-fleece sheets, and my big, fluffy white robe?! Oh girl, I am toasty!!!

Countdown to Grown-Up Land

I have often thought and remarked that I don't feel like a Grown-Up, certainly not an Adult. I always reasoned that "Grown-Ups have a mortgage and kids." Whew, I was safely not a member of that club!

Then one day we decided we wanted to have the latter (the kid). Which, because of the cards Life dealt us, and the path we choose, necessitated the former (the house, which = mortgage).

The house was not something we wanted. For over a year now I have felt like I have let everybody down when they say to us with a happy voice, "Don't you love having a house!" Um, uh, NO, we don't! I love my hardwood floors. I love shouting at the tops of my lungs (could do that at our old funky apartment, though). I love that the house made our adoption possible. I love that the walls in Lil' Pumpkin's nursery are bright green and blue (as opposed to "rental white" or cream). But I most certainly do not love having a house. Sigh. On our best days, I would put us in the "reluctant homeowner" category. I will be forever working towards my dream of three-story townhouse -- I even have it picked out, if anyone wants to buy it for grateful me (try me, I am GREAT at being GRATEFUL!!!)

But now I am less than 3o days (28, if anyone's counting -- oh wait, I AM!) to being a legal parent to somebody. I already feel like her parent, of course. I have filled out endless (and I do mean ENDLESS) paperwork to justify our relationship & responsibility. I have updated my life insurance to name her as a big winner if we croak. We now have wills, which name her as the heir to our estate (LOL -- then SHE can deal with the house, hee hee), and name her Legal Guardians if, again, we croak (seeing her name in our wills gave me such a reality-check rush, but in a good way). Heck, I even have her pediatrician appointment booked! Phuck, I am even tossing out phrases like "Maternity Leave" in emails to colleagues. WTF?!

Part Two of being a Grown-Up, which, by my definition, is what I am on the verge of these last 28 days, is clearly within my grasp. It is just around the corner, and yet painfully far away. I suck at waiting, of course. When I want something, I want it NOW. No, make that YESTERDAY.

But Part Two, as much as it's craved (okay, SHE is craved by us), seems so scary at the same time. I am aware of this about a thousand times a day as I move about my not-loved but toddler-proofed house. I see hazards everywhere. I think about all the things that can go wrong -- my old fears and pessimism never can be fully quelled, I suppose. I take out her photos and glance at it, for just a few quick seconds, and then have to put it away. It's like I am afraid that if I stare at it too long, or dream too much, then POOF, it will all be gone. Because that IS when things typically go to shit in my life -- when I start to get comfortable with a concept or state of being.

(Cue my positive mantras . . . she is ours, she is ours, she is ours).

28 days. Holy Phuck. Should I be doing something wild to mark these last days as a NON-adult?! What is truly crazy and non-kiddie that I can do to commemorate my last fleeting days of life that don't include a toddler? Maybe I need to pull our my "24 things" list again. LOL, if only we had time to do one a day (not).

Sucking Wind

So much has been going on in my life, and yet I am too stressed or busy or overwhelmed to speak of it.

Okay, so let me at least mark another reluctant weekend of home improvement progress . . . we managed the following:

• Bought more necessary crap for our pending trip to China (me, with help from my Mommy)
  
• Swept the basement (me)
  
• Swept the garage (Dr. J)
  
• Assembled the pressure-mounted baby gate (Me)
• Rust removal and repainting of porch railing (Dr. J, last week -- thank you!!!)
• Assembled the jogging stroller (joint effort)
• Assembled the regular stroller (me, last week)
• Ceiling fan with light mounted in baby's room (friend)
• Mounted the white wooden letters spelling baby's name on the wall above her bed (joint effort -- kee-rist what an ordeal, WHO KNEW?!?!)

Up next:

• Mounting of FOUR pressure-mounted baby gates (I really need to purchase this, I swear)
• More buying of necessary crap for trip
• Put foam bumpers on every conceivable sharp corner in living room, dining room, and baby's room
• Reorganize hall closet
• Rearrange linen closet, making room for baby's stuff and tub essentials
• Wash & soften up her sheets & pillowcases
• Steal lightweight suitcases from friends and family (USA weight limits on luggage are 55 pounds / China's are 44 pounds. Grrrr.)
• 6,413 other things that I keep re-remembering and re-forgetting. And reminding Mr. No-Short-Term-Memory (aka the lovely Dr. J) about them

Eh, at least we finally got our swimsuits for the trip. I can't believe I got a two-piece (top & bottom) AND a coverup skirt for the hotel, and managed to not have a self-loathing moment throughout it. WOW!

Miracles never cease, I guess.

We Own What?

We bit the bullet this weekend.

We known own (gulp), a lawnmower, a weedwhacker, some weed killer, two heavy duty 14 amp extension cords and the coil.

We also bought the one of the four hardware/wall-mounted baby gates we still need to buy and install. We received the soft, removable one as a shower gift. We bought the extra-tall top of the stairs one because it was on sale at L.owe's.

A lawnmower. Phuck.

Frightening, but I am more freaked out by the thought of us owning a lawnmower and weedwhacker than us having a child.

Dr. J, what does this say about us? (Other than "MOVE TO A TOWNHOUSE").

Lawn Boy Becomes . . . Home Improvement Guy?!

Good Lord what is happening to my man?! He has also now stained the repaired wood frame around our bedroom and closet doors, AND built the new bed and chest of drawers in the baby's room.

If he starts to drywall I will call a divorce attorney immediately. Or a psychiatrist. Probably both.

Yard Work? WTF?!?!?!

I rushed home from the municipal meeting I had just finished up at because I received a FRIGHTENING text message from my husband . . .

"I AM MOWING THE LAWN."

I was so scared. He has NEVER ever done something like that. Seriously, we have owned this house a year, and he has never done that. Hey, neither have I. I refuse to do yard work or home improvement projects. Really. I said it when we closed on the house and have never waivered.

Last summer we paid my Mom a few bucks here and there to do it (our lawn is not that big). Really. Or would give a few bucks to this guy who is a friend of the family to do it. That's how WE roll. And I like that my husband does NOT do this kind of stuff -- 'cause we agree we suck at it and he doesn't try to deviate from that. Let somebody else do it, somebody who is BETTER at it than us! We will PAY, or trade services somehow.

But our lawn looked soooooo bad, and he couldn't stand it any more. We have an old lady who lives next to us who is a grass-cutting nazi. And the lesbian couple behind us put us to shame (they were outside shoveling asphalt while all of this hoopla was going on, I kid you not).

So Dr. J borrowed the lawnmower from my Mom (she has been too busy to do it) and was mowing when I got home. I took photos. He said to me "I will NEVER do this again." Well thank gawd for that! I would have called a psychiatrist or scheduled an intervention if he LIKED it, LOL!

I am wondering if all of the muffin-baking and flour-sifting tips he gave Kirsten today (via email) inspired him to get in touch with his Manly Man side?
Sniff, sniff, I want my metrosexual back!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously, Dr. J, I am in awe right now. I think in a good way. Lord knows I can't and won't do something like that. Ever.

But please, NEVER again. I can't handle this.

It's like I don't even know YOU anymore!!!!!!!!!

Black Weekend

In the spirit of all things American, we are supposed to shop, shop, SHOP this weekend. However, Dr. J still gets what I call "retails flashbacks," so we can never go full throttle. Also, we have the whole budget thing that keeps the padlock on the checkbook pretty tightly.

Nonetheless, we felt it best to venture out and play our part as good Americans.

And what did we buy? A new garage door remote system, so that we can re-program it in a way that we will now have TWO clickers to open it with.

And second, a new , inexpensive track light for our work-in-progress dining room, from IKEA. Please understand, with purchase of our house we inherited some NASTY light fixtures, the gawd-awful brass & frosted glass chandelier in our dining room being one of them. Ick, bleh! But after having so much fun with all of the couples we hung out with on Wednesday and Thursday, we decided we want to have people over to our house more often to entertain. And drink. And mock others, colectively.

Now I just have to find someone properly qualified to install it. Hmmmm.

Who Knew?

Let me start by saying this: There is a dizzying array of space heaters on the market.

I had no idea.

What prompted this discovery was my obsessive desire to ward off any huge, high gas bills this winter. Look, I am a first-time homeowner and first-time homedweller (since BIRTH, people!). All of this is new, and often scary to me. Really. I do NOT love being a homeowner. I know, I know, I am supposed to be giggly happy about how wonderful and exciting it is to own and fix-up and decorate a home.

I hate it.

I miss the simplicity of an apartment. I miss not having these types of choices. I miss having rather fixed costs each month, and not having to speculate in terror what my gas bill will be, WTF I will do if something breaks, and I still have solved our lawn care problem (to buy or not to buy the lawnmower -- dammit, can't I just get a hot guy to come cut the lawn every 3 weeks?! Can I not have ONE "Desperate Housewife" moment?!?!)

Our house is half-decorated, half-painted, sorta-styled, and no where near how we want it to be -- if only we had (1) the money, (2) the know-how, (3) the time.

Back to the space heater. So electricity is waaaaayyyy cheaper in this region than cranking the gas high enough to heat the house. Yes, it's on a minimum level. Yes, I know about closing off rooms that we don't use, shutting vents, wearing slippers & six layers of clothing. We already have a dual-control heated mattress pad (and my gawd, that thing is dee-vine, lemme tell ya!)

So we decided to get a space heater for our bedroom, just to run for a few minutes at night, or while we sleep. And possibly to bring into the living room. We spend an average of 3 waking hours in the house on a weekday. There are like 6 gazillion models of space heaters out there. Really. We went to four stores to compare, and this is after Dr. J researched the whole thing online.

I already knew about getting one with the auto-shutoff if it tips over. But now I also know to get one with the infared beam that shuts it off if it becomes obstructed (by a fallen blanket, a child's toy, etc.) I also now know that a quartz heater is designed to heat objects, that there are varying degrees of "quietness," you can buy a sleek space heater that can be wall-mounted (looks like a flat screen t.v.), and they even make space heaters with REMOTE CONTROLS. Really -- no shit, they sell ones with remote controls! ("Oooh, snap!")

It was at the fourth store, as we stared at the numerous options on the shelves, that I remarked to Dr. J, "It took us less time to select a country from which to import a baby."

And folks, that IS the freakin' truth.

Getting Soft

There region in which I live has been going through some far-ranging temperature shifts . . . like 20-30 degrees in a few days time. Of course, in this area of the country it is not unheard of to have to run your car's heat and A/C all in the course of the same day, hee hee.

STILL, this is the first fall/winter season in which I have been a homeowner, and thus I am more concerned about my gas bill than I have been in the past (hell, most of the apartments I lived in didn't include a separate gas bill). Thus, I have not yet been willing to flick the heat on in our house yet. But this has made for some chilly nights lately.

I used to be so much tougher when it came to being too hot or too cold in my assorted homes as I grew up. This is due to my mother, the original bill-miser, REFUSING to ever let me turn on the A/C or heat wherever we lived, even if the cost was already rolled into our monthly rent payment. The heat always bothered me more than the cold, to the point that I can actually remember CRYING, pleading for my mom to let me turn it on for just a few minutes, as my asthma made it nearly impossible sometimes to get any relief. Thank gawd once I got old enough to drive I just learned to haul ass to the mall for free A/C, or to stay overnight at a friend's house when it became unbearable. Nonetheless, I still probably harbor some lingering resentment for the sticky summer evenings in which my already-temperamental hair wound up looking like ka-ka due to my mom's refusal to A/C-accomodate me for the 15 minutes it took me to style my hair. Grrrr.

When we moved to the Bay Area in order for Dr. J to go to graduate school, my father-in-law (himself a former Bay Area resident) warned me, in his New Yahk accent, that "You'll get soft living in the Bay Area," due to the mild climate in the winters (though we had some scorching summers during the rolling blackouts, oi vey). Generally, I do NOT bitch about the cold weather, as I love wintery scenery. But when it's this chilly in my house . . . well, I begin to fear my father-in-law may be right.

Dr. J made me so friggin' happy last Thursday night, when I came home late from a political fundraiser, tired as hell & knowing I would be getting only 4 hours sleep before I had to be awake for an early-morning legislative breakfast, by surprising me with . . . having put our electric mattress pad on our big bed. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!! Ahhhh, I was in esctasy as I crawled on top of my toasty mattress!

Last night was another cold one. No heat in the house, per our attempt to NOT flick on the furnace in October. It was nice to curl up in that bed, all nice and warm, mmmmm.

But DAMN, was it difficult to get out of bed this morning, as a result. I kept hitting the snooze button on my alarm, and Dr. J kept trying to keep me from getting out of bed (damn you).

I finally swung my feet on the floor, fluffy bathrobe wrapped around me, and padded my way to the bathroom. And as I sat down on the chilled toilet I could only focus on one thought:

I LEFT A COZY BED AND A WARM MAN FOR THIS?!?!

Kicking Off the Weekend Right

Labor Day Weekend was FINALLY upon me -- and not a moment too soon. Not to sound too Valley Girl BUT, I was sooooo ready to get things started.

But first, I had to leave work early to deal with this damn security system BS at the house. Ugh. Don't ask -- I don't even want to get started on it. But hey, at least I got have some fresh air blow across my cheek as I continued to work from my computer at home.

After finally finishing an important memo for work, I slipped into one of my favorite dresses and started my Friday evening by meeting a friend for a few drinks. It was a great way to set the mood for a festive weekend. The sweet potato fries also helped, too.

I then sprinted home, changed clothes, and went with Dr. J to the "bonfire" at our friends house. Shannon and Eric have a large yard, and a fire pit out back. Hard to believe, but I have never had a smore before! I would describe it as . . . a bit overrated. In retrospect, I much prefer cinnamon graham crackers to plain ones, so maybe that had something to do with it?!

However, I completely ADORE toasted marshmellows, and could eat them endlessly, so I was most definitely sated that night, hee hee!

Mental Snapshot

What a mixed-up two weeks I am having. So much has happened, and yet nothing has changed. I have about a thousand things I should be writing about, and yet I have no patience to really sketch it all out, from a literary standpoint.

So I will cop out, and just do a quickie list-type entry, which will have bits and pieces that will make sense to some people, none to others, but plenty to me (while accurately reflecting the mental jumble that is my brain).

Commencing Random Thoughts:

* I love the show "Confessions of a Matchmaker" -- not only is Patti a hoot, but it makes you think about how YOU would be critiqued if on a date.
* My stomach still has not recovered from nauseaville, I swear. I can't seem to fully shake this thing, even though it's definitely improved. If I drink any more diet ginger ale I may float from all of the carbonation.
* "The Bourne Ultimatum" freakin' ROCKED! It was worth the wait.
* Seeing a movie at the drive-in was divine -- we had such a blast, especially munching on Chinese food during the opening scenes.
* I can't believe how quickly we've been able to submit all of our adoption paperwork -- I am proud of us!
* More and more excited about going to Kal-ee-forn-yah next month. Just hope we don't get too tempted to move back?!
* People, pick your mate well! It astounds me sometimes the bad choices people make when it comes to life partners.
* We like our house, but hate our kitchen.
* I never thought I'd feel worse a few days after surgery than the day of it?! My abdomen alternates between soreness, pain, and feeling like jello. UGH!
* Along the same lines, I can't wait to start resuming my workouts in earnest. But at the same time, I am so pooped that it's hard to imagine getting up to full speed anytime soon (but I'll probably be okay by the 4th workout, if the past is any indication).
* Ventured to IKEA this weekend. Managed the experience better than I thought. Even managed to bring hope with me.
* Hamster and I are going to navigate through the next few years just fine. She is such a treasure, and makes me feel pretty darn useful, at a time when I feel pretty damn useless.
* Dave and Natalie are very special people. They make my heart full, and they make it ache.
* Still praying like crazy for Shannen.
* My husband may not be the toughest guy in the world (um, that would be Jason Bourne), but he is tough enough to handle my tears. Every last one of them. And with the same genuine concern as if they were the first to have ever fallen.

Am I Insane?

On Thursday, we had house inspection for the place we put an offer in on. I had to work, but Dr. J has off on Thursday mornings, so he was designated as the one to be present with the inspector for the event, which takes a couple of hours.

Because so many of yinz have been asking to see photos of the house we are close to buying, I reminded Dr. J a bunch of times to "TAKE THE CAMERA WITH YOU -- TAKE A BUNCH OF PHOTOS!!!"

Surprisingly, Dr. J did remember to take the camera with him (this in itself is a feat).

Last night, after returning from a "date" with my husband, I asked him "You did take photos of the house, right?" to which he nodded enthusiastically and said "Oh yeah, I took a bunch!"

So this morning, being unable to sleep in (not sleeping well, again), I decide to download the photos onto our computer, and then uplink them to the Kodak Gallery, in the hopes of sharing with those with of you who have been inquiring.

Guess what? He did take a bunch! Yee haw! There's just one problem . . . THERE ISN'T ONE GAWDDAMN PHOTO OF THE OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!! Ya know, the thing people want to see MOST?!?!

I am this close to storming into the bedroom and smacking him awake with my best bitchslap and screaming "HOW CAN YOU TAKE 60 PHOTOS OF THE INSIDE OF A HOUSE, AND NEGLECT TO TAKE EVEN ONE OF THE OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE?!?!"

ARRRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Am I insane, or was it IMPLIED that when one is asked to "take photos of the house" it includes the OUTSIDE of the house! JUST ONE DAMN PHOTO!!!!!!!!!! ONE!!!!!!!!

Is it too early to begin drinking? It feels like it's going to be one of those days already.

We have to go back over to the house in a few hours to meet with our Realtor to discuss a few items that came up during the home inspection. Guess who is taking the camera with her, and will obtain a photo of the outside of the house?