Baby comfortable right where she is
Midwives predict imminent arrival, get it wrong again
Local man makes whale noises at wife; wife not amused
Mother-to-be plans third "final" pre-baby grocery shop
Excessive couch-sitting may result in sore tailbone
1.10.2012
12.27.2011
Dear baby
Dear baby,
Before you arrive, I wanted to tell about our life—and yours—before you were born.
This spring, your dad was still in graduate school and I was working at the opera. One night in the middle of May, I wasn't feeling well and didn't want to cook, so we went to Yogi's (a sports bar with great cheap chili fries) for dinner. When we left, I joked that maybe I was pregnant--and then I realized that I could actually be pregnant. My first pregnancy test didn't work at all, and the second was very faintly positive. I had to tell your dad that I thought I was probably pregnant, and he agreed that it looked that way.
We were excited, but we knew things would change. Your dad was pretty stressed out. He had just found out that his grad school funding was being cut and the program didn't really want him to continue. So he was trying to decide if he would start looking for his first full-time job, or do something else. We had always intended that I would stay at home with you, but of course at least one of us needed to have a job!
The first people who knew about you were actually some of the ladies from our church who were in my book club. They advised me on choosing a doctor for you. Eventually I decided to see a certified nurse midwife and made an appointment. The midwife did an ultrasound, and I found out I had been pregnant for a month longer than I thought! You were already ten weeks old, and I got a picture of you with your little nubbins of arms and legs. When I got home from work that day, I took the picture to your dad. He was speechless. He thought you were beautiful right away.
Dad wanted to be involved as much as he could right away. He did a lot for me when I was tired or feeling sick, and when I picked up a stack of baby name books at the library, he got to them before I did and made a list of the names he liked. We picked out a boy's name and a girl's name together.
We told Grandma and Grandpa F. about you over the phone, but Grandma and Grandpa J. came to visit us in Bloomington so we got to tell them in person. Of course, Grandpa J. had already figured it out—he's impossible to surprise. We had planned to tell them in the evening, but we also met for lunch at Chipotle and your dad made a comment about how I was eating a lot. That made your grandpa suspect what was up.
I did feel tired and sick sometimes, but mostly I've had a perfect pregnancy. Even when I was nauseated during the first trimester, I never threw up. I went to work with a big bag of food every day—leftovers and yogurt and nuts and probably too much chocolate. For a while I couldn't stand to cook. Handling raw meat was awful. There were a couple of nights that all I could make was plain boiled chicken and white rice, which your dad ate without complaint even though he didn't much like it. He cooked quite a bit too, but sometimes that didn't make me feel better either. The smell and taste of soy sauce was horrible. I could smell a bowl of salsa from rooms away.
Your dad had started looking for a job. He must have sent out a hundred resumes, and it was very frustrating. At first, he was feeling pretty burnt out with classics and applied for some jobs based on his work at the National Lab. Later he started applying for private school jobs too. Most places never even got back to him; he had one phone interview, but it didn't go anywhere. Finally, at the beginning of July, a school in Scottsdale, AZ, called and asked him to fly down and teach a sample class. He went even though he had to cut his shoulder-length hair short and take out his earring (he did that for you!), and they offered him the job. We were very excited—it looked like a good fit, and it was pretty close to your dad's family. But even before the deadline for his response, Dad got an e-mail saying that the job offer was withdrawn. We were shocked and frustrated. He had planned to call and accept the job that day. Now we know that God used that job offer to prepare us for his next opportunity, but at the time it just seemed like his only chance at a job had evaporated without explanation. I started to believe that I would keep working, and your dad would be a househusband for a while.
Early that spring, I had planned to work at Camp Shetek for one week in July, so I traveled to Minnesota by train right at the beginning of the second trimester. All my nausea and tiredness had disappeared overnight. I got to tell a lot of friends about you in person, which was fun. I was working in the kitchen, of course, and Mom Judy wouldn't let me handle any cleaning products or climb the stepladder to get things from the high shelves in the pantry. Summer Harms had just had a baby, and Audra was pregnant, so it was fun to talk to them about the future. I wasn't really showing yet, but I was wearing maternity shorts because they were much more comfortable. I think I'm the only pregnant War Games sniper ever.
On my Thursday in Minnesota, I came back from dinner to find seven missed calls on my phone, and a message from Dad to call him back right away. When I reached him, he told me that on Wednesday he had sent a resume to another charter school in the Phoenix area, and the head of school had called him back, interviewed him over the phone, and offered him the job all in one day! They needed an answer right away. Not only that, but they wanted him to be in Arizona by the end of the next week for a teacher-training retreat. The job would involve teaching Latin and ancient history to middle- or high-schoolers, and maybe he would get to teach Greek eventually. In just a few minutes over the phone, we decided that this was a good opportunity, and Dad should take the job. Now we know that was a good decision, but it was a big step of faith at the time.
I was so relieved that your dad had a job, but I knew I would have to quit my job and pack up our condo and get it on the market mostly by myself. That was a busy time, and I was fortunate to have a lot of help from Grandma F. (who helped me pack), a crew of guys from our church (who painted the condo and packed the moving van), and Grandpa J. (who drove the moving van cross-country by himself). Your dad got started at his job and found a place for us to live by the time I got there on August 13. Aunt B. and Uncle E. came to help us unpack, too.
Because of the move, the usual 20-week ultrasound had to get delayed. I was at twenty-five weeks before I had found a new place for prenatal care. The next week I went to get an ultrasound by myself. I got to see you and your little fingers, and even your brain and heart! Your dad and I wanted to find out if you were a boy or girl together, so the tech had me close my eyes while she checked that out, printed and labeled a picture, and put it in an envelope for me. She said you looked perfectly healthy and just the right size.
I picked up your dad at work at day, and when we got home, we opened up the envelope and found out you are a girl! We were happy. I think your dad is especially excited to have a little girl—since he doesn’t have any sisters, it’s a totally new adventure for him.
Now we’re just waiting for you! Every month (and now every week) I see a midwife to get weighed and measured and to hear your heartbeat, and they tell me everything seems perfect. I feel you kicking and moving around quite a bit. Last night you had the hiccups. You’ve been head down since the ultrasound. A few weeks ago, we went to get the hospital tour, and we did a one-night birthing class with the midwives, too. Like I said before, the pregnancy has been very uneventful. I’ve had four or five people tell me that I have a “cute” or “perfect” belly—you were adorable even before you were born!
We’ve had four baby showers for you! One in Minnesota, one in New Mexico, and one with each of our churches in Bloomington and Phoenix. Your grandparents and aunts and uncles have been especially generous in helping us prepare for you. Last week, Grandma J. came to spend some time with us to get the apartment nice and fill up the freezer. We arranged all your things in our bedroom, and all of the cloth diapers I picked out for you arrived.
Yesterday was exactly one week from your official due date, and your dad noticed that it looks like you have dropped a little lower. Today I feel a bit crampy and tight, so I hope that’s a good sign. I’m sure you’re sick of Dad poking at you and reminding you that you should show up before his Christmas break ends, so please come soon! I’ve packed my hospital bag, and I tucked in the little yellow sweatsuit I wore home from the hospital for you.
Love,
Mom
Before you arrive, I wanted to tell about our life—and yours—before you were born.
This spring, your dad was still in graduate school and I was working at the opera. One night in the middle of May, I wasn't feeling well and didn't want to cook, so we went to Yogi's (a sports bar with great cheap chili fries) for dinner. When we left, I joked that maybe I was pregnant--and then I realized that I could actually be pregnant. My first pregnancy test didn't work at all, and the second was very faintly positive. I had to tell your dad that I thought I was probably pregnant, and he agreed that it looked that way.
We were excited, but we knew things would change. Your dad was pretty stressed out. He had just found out that his grad school funding was being cut and the program didn't really want him to continue. So he was trying to decide if he would start looking for his first full-time job, or do something else. We had always intended that I would stay at home with you, but of course at least one of us needed to have a job!
The first people who knew about you were actually some of the ladies from our church who were in my book club. They advised me on choosing a doctor for you. Eventually I decided to see a certified nurse midwife and made an appointment. The midwife did an ultrasound, and I found out I had been pregnant for a month longer than I thought! You were already ten weeks old, and I got a picture of you with your little nubbins of arms and legs. When I got home from work that day, I took the picture to your dad. He was speechless. He thought you were beautiful right away.
Dad wanted to be involved as much as he could right away. He did a lot for me when I was tired or feeling sick, and when I picked up a stack of baby name books at the library, he got to them before I did and made a list of the names he liked. We picked out a boy's name and a girl's name together.
We told Grandma and Grandpa F. about you over the phone, but Grandma and Grandpa J. came to visit us in Bloomington so we got to tell them in person. Of course, Grandpa J. had already figured it out—he's impossible to surprise. We had planned to tell them in the evening, but we also met for lunch at Chipotle and your dad made a comment about how I was eating a lot. That made your grandpa suspect what was up.
I did feel tired and sick sometimes, but mostly I've had a perfect pregnancy. Even when I was nauseated during the first trimester, I never threw up. I went to work with a big bag of food every day—leftovers and yogurt and nuts and probably too much chocolate. For a while I couldn't stand to cook. Handling raw meat was awful. There were a couple of nights that all I could make was plain boiled chicken and white rice, which your dad ate without complaint even though he didn't much like it. He cooked quite a bit too, but sometimes that didn't make me feel better either. The smell and taste of soy sauce was horrible. I could smell a bowl of salsa from rooms away.
Your dad had started looking for a job. He must have sent out a hundred resumes, and it was very frustrating. At first, he was feeling pretty burnt out with classics and applied for some jobs based on his work at the National Lab. Later he started applying for private school jobs too. Most places never even got back to him; he had one phone interview, but it didn't go anywhere. Finally, at the beginning of July, a school in Scottsdale, AZ, called and asked him to fly down and teach a sample class. He went even though he had to cut his shoulder-length hair short and take out his earring (he did that for you!), and they offered him the job. We were very excited—it looked like a good fit, and it was pretty close to your dad's family. But even before the deadline for his response, Dad got an e-mail saying that the job offer was withdrawn. We were shocked and frustrated. He had planned to call and accept the job that day. Now we know that God used that job offer to prepare us for his next opportunity, but at the time it just seemed like his only chance at a job had evaporated without explanation. I started to believe that I would keep working, and your dad would be a househusband for a while.
Early that spring, I had planned to work at Camp Shetek for one week in July, so I traveled to Minnesota by train right at the beginning of the second trimester. All my nausea and tiredness had disappeared overnight. I got to tell a lot of friends about you in person, which was fun. I was working in the kitchen, of course, and Mom Judy wouldn't let me handle any cleaning products or climb the stepladder to get things from the high shelves in the pantry. Summer Harms had just had a baby, and Audra was pregnant, so it was fun to talk to them about the future. I wasn't really showing yet, but I was wearing maternity shorts because they were much more comfortable. I think I'm the only pregnant War Games sniper ever.
On my Thursday in Minnesota, I came back from dinner to find seven missed calls on my phone, and a message from Dad to call him back right away. When I reached him, he told me that on Wednesday he had sent a resume to another charter school in the Phoenix area, and the head of school had called him back, interviewed him over the phone, and offered him the job all in one day! They needed an answer right away. Not only that, but they wanted him to be in Arizona by the end of the next week for a teacher-training retreat. The job would involve teaching Latin and ancient history to middle- or high-schoolers, and maybe he would get to teach Greek eventually. In just a few minutes over the phone, we decided that this was a good opportunity, and Dad should take the job. Now we know that was a good decision, but it was a big step of faith at the time.
I was so relieved that your dad had a job, but I knew I would have to quit my job and pack up our condo and get it on the market mostly by myself. That was a busy time, and I was fortunate to have a lot of help from Grandma F. (who helped me pack), a crew of guys from our church (who painted the condo and packed the moving van), and Grandpa J. (who drove the moving van cross-country by himself). Your dad got started at his job and found a place for us to live by the time I got there on August 13. Aunt B. and Uncle E. came to help us unpack, too.
Because of the move, the usual 20-week ultrasound had to get delayed. I was at twenty-five weeks before I had found a new place for prenatal care. The next week I went to get an ultrasound by myself. I got to see you and your little fingers, and even your brain and heart! Your dad and I wanted to find out if you were a boy or girl together, so the tech had me close my eyes while she checked that out, printed and labeled a picture, and put it in an envelope for me. She said you looked perfectly healthy and just the right size.
I picked up your dad at work at day, and when we got home, we opened up the envelope and found out you are a girl! We were happy. I think your dad is especially excited to have a little girl—since he doesn’t have any sisters, it’s a totally new adventure for him.
Now we’re just waiting for you! Every month (and now every week) I see a midwife to get weighed and measured and to hear your heartbeat, and they tell me everything seems perfect. I feel you kicking and moving around quite a bit. Last night you had the hiccups. You’ve been head down since the ultrasound. A few weeks ago, we went to get the hospital tour, and we did a one-night birthing class with the midwives, too. Like I said before, the pregnancy has been very uneventful. I’ve had four or five people tell me that I have a “cute” or “perfect” belly—you were adorable even before you were born!
We’ve had four baby showers for you! One in Minnesota, one in New Mexico, and one with each of our churches in Bloomington and Phoenix. Your grandparents and aunts and uncles have been especially generous in helping us prepare for you. Last week, Grandma J. came to spend some time with us to get the apartment nice and fill up the freezer. We arranged all your things in our bedroom, and all of the cloth diapers I picked out for you arrived.
Yesterday was exactly one week from your official due date, and your dad noticed that it looks like you have dropped a little lower. Today I feel a bit crampy and tight, so I hope that’s a good sign. I’m sure you’re sick of Dad poking at you and reminding you that you should show up before his Christmas break ends, so please come soon! I’ve packed my hospital bag, and I tucked in the little yellow sweatsuit I wore home from the hospital for you.
Love,
Mom
12.02.2011
Nerdy moment of the day
For Christmas, I bought That Guy this year's LEGO Star Wars advent calendar, which he, obviously, will be opening before Christmas. Yesterday he opened the number-one door to find a little bag of LEGO pieces and some assembly instructions.
The finished item was clearly a space ship of some kind, but he handed it to me, saying, "I don't recognize this one."
And then, a crowning moment of awesome. The next words that came out of my mouth were "It looks kind of like the Tantive IV, but red. Isn't there something like that in Episode 1?" I think this is where I have to admit seeing The Phantom Menace three times in-theater. Don't blame me; I was 13 and didn't know any better.
A quick consultation of Wookiepedia confirms my suspicion: it's a consular-class cruiser that "was designed as a 'devolved' version of the Tantive IV to provide a link to the original trilogy."
By the way, the Tantive IV, for the less-pathetically-nerdy among you, is the space ship in the opening scene of Star Wars when Princess Leia is being pursued by Darth Vadar. But I still don't know anything about Star Trek, I promise.
The finished item was clearly a space ship of some kind, but he handed it to me, saying, "I don't recognize this one."
And then, a crowning moment of awesome. The next words that came out of my mouth were "It looks kind of like the Tantive IV, but red. Isn't there something like that in Episode 1?" I think this is where I have to admit seeing The Phantom Menace three times in-theater. Don't blame me; I was 13 and didn't know any better.
A quick consultation of Wookiepedia confirms my suspicion: it's a consular-class cruiser that "was designed as a 'devolved' version of the Tantive IV to provide a link to the original trilogy."
By the way, the Tantive IV, for the less-pathetically-nerdy among you, is the space ship in the opening scene of Star Wars when Princess Leia is being pursued by Darth Vadar. But I still don't know anything about Star Trek, I promise.
11.17.2011
Recipe successes
Mostly for my own use, here are some recipes I've tried and liked recently.
White bread - This recipe is perfect for soft, close grained white bread. Makes great dinner rolls too, as long as you serve them very fresh. They staled quickly.
Cinnamon rolls - You know that awesome, not-undercooked-but-still-doughy texture cinnamon rolls from a can have? Here's the home version. I can't even describe how perfect these rolls are. A quarter-size batch is plenty.
Pie crust - This is THE ONE, and I'm never going back. No oil, no butter, no vinegar, no vodka. I used it on an apple pie, and six people told me it was the best pie they'd ever had. No joke.
Speaking of apple pie, I would also like to record for posterity: there's really no need to peel the apples. I just eighth and core, then slice thinly.
Obviously I'm more of a baker than a cook.
White bread - This recipe is perfect for soft, close grained white bread. Makes great dinner rolls too, as long as you serve them very fresh. They staled quickly.
Cinnamon rolls - You know that awesome, not-undercooked-but-still-doughy texture cinnamon rolls from a can have? Here's the home version. I can't even describe how perfect these rolls are. A quarter-size batch is plenty.
Pie crust - This is THE ONE, and I'm never going back. No oil, no butter, no vinegar, no vodka. I used it on an apple pie, and six people told me it was the best pie they'd ever had. No joke.
Speaking of apple pie, I would also like to record for posterity: there's really no need to peel the apples. I just eighth and core, then slice thinly.
Obviously I'm more of a baker than a cook.
11.13.2011
Black powder
I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving with the in-laws, who like to talk about the youthful hi-jinks of T.G. and the Tall Brother. They had some very Calvin-esque adventures, and I can just imagine this happening at their house.
I've gotta say, I'm rather relieved that this baby is a girl and that we don't live near any sheer-walled canyons. I'm hoping that cuts down on the "Hey, Mom, did we ever tell about the time..." stories I have to hear about twenty years from now.
9.12.2011
In which I meet a fifth grader
When I show up to get That Guy for school, he's discussing Thursday's quiz with one of his students.
T.G.: This is Mrs. T.G.
Student: Your wife?
T.G.: Yes.
Student: She's small.
9.11.2011
Adventures in cooking
As mentioned previously, That Guy loves New Mexican green chiles, which, in the Midwest, are only available as greenish mush in tiny aluminum cans. Here, I can buy the fresh, Hatch-grown chiles at the grocery store (at least for a month or two in the fall). Don't they look beautiful?
And I haven't paid a dime for them. No, I'm not a shoplifter. Every single time I buy them, the store rings them up at the wrong price--and so they give them to me free. I'm up to four-and-a-half pounds of free green chiles.
My last green-chile dish was chiles rellenos, which, in the New Mexican style, are smothered in a green chile sauce. Cooking with chiles is always interesting because they're unpredictable. Where most restaurants post their soup-of-the-day, New Mexican places have a sign that says "Today's green chile is: hot." Because they are used whole, the heat level varies from batch to batch.
So at dinner, T.G. and I were starting on our deliciously crispy chiles rellenos. As the first forkful went into my mouth, it brushed my lip. Whoa! I put it back down. We had an extra-hot batch. I ended up eating my dinner with a giant dollop of plain yogurt (which we often use instead of sour cream) and a glass of whole milk. T.G. ate his chiles wrapped in tortillas. But we were still sweating.
Making green chile sauce from scratch was an adventure, but I probably won't repeat it. Like making pie from an actual pumpkin instead of from prepared pumpkin puree, the savings just isn't worth amount of time spent. The chiles have to be roasted and peeled before they can be used, and I can get big tubs of pre-roasted/peeled/chopped chile in the freezer section. But when I need whole chiles (for rellenos, of course), it's totally worth it.
For the record, to roast chiles:
1. Stick them under the broiler, turning occasionally, until they're no longer crisp and the skins have bubbled up and blackened.
2. Let them sit a few minutes in a sealed plastic bag or covered bowl. The steam helps loosen the skins further.
3. Peel off the skins.
4. For whole chiles to stuff, slit them down one side and remove as much of the seeds and membranes as possible, leaving the stems attached.
5. For sauce, remove the stems, seeds, and membranes; and chop.
6. WASH YOUR HANDS. DO NOT TOUCH YOUR EYES OR MUCOUS MEMBRANES.
My not-really-a-recipe for chile sauce:
2-3 cups of chopped green New Mexican chile
1 Tbsp. fat (lard, bacon grease, canola oil if you have to)
1 Tbsp. ground beef
Salt
Enough water to make everything is a little floaty
All amounts are approximate. Simmer together for at least 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, 'til the ground beef is cooked and the chile has broken up into the liquid a bit more. At this point, I would cover the saucepan and leave it over low heat until whatever I'm serving it with is ready, adding a little more water as needed.
A few minutes before serving, stir in about a tablespoon of flour to thicken.
8.23.2011
Moving in?
Dear American health insurance system, you kind of suck (I'm paying HOW MUCH for WHAT?), but then I'm not a fan of any of the alternatives either. So thanks, I guess. Please don't hate me. Yours truly, etc.
Dear everyone else, this moving-in thing is going pretty slow. It turns out I'm not so good at staying on task when I don't have any outside pressure. Pictures to come eventually, but probably not until the whole place no longer has papers, stray bathrobe belts, and random homeless objects strewn across every flat surface. If I owe you a thank-you note/letter/e-mail--I'm, um, working on it. Promise.
So, Phoenix, then?
Positives:
Looks like it's time to get back to what I ought to be doing.
Dear everyone else, this moving-in thing is going pretty slow. It turns out I'm not so good at staying on task when I don't have any outside pressure. Pictures to come eventually, but probably not until the whole place no longer has papers, stray bathrobe belts, and random homeless objects strewn across every flat surface. If I owe you a thank-you note/letter/e-mail--I'm, um, working on it. Promise.
So, Phoenix, then?
Positives:
- Sprouts - I'm in love with my local chain "farmer's market." Ninety-nine cents for cherries? Three red peppers for a dollar? OKAY! Chocolate-covered dried cherries in the bulk bins? YES PLEASE! Said chocolate-covered cherries are residing in the back of fridge to keep me from inhaling them all at once. Out of sight, out of mind I hope.
- The mall - I never knew That Guy would go mall-walking with me, but when it's 110 outside and there's a Lego store (look! the Lego Death Star) AND a board game place (including yo-yoing, possibly cave-dwelling proprietor [seriously, the palest Arizonan I've seen so far]) AND a Teavana (cheerful salesgirls who couldn't possibly let you miss any of the six free sample varieties)....
- Fresh Hatch green chile at the grocery store - as I was saying to T.G., I don't think I've ever met a New Mexican, or anyone married to a New Mexican, who didn't love green chile (not out of a can).
- The swimming pool - there's really nothing like having a sun-warmed swimming pool all to yourself under the stars.
- My itsy-bitsy galley kitchen - I wasn't totally sold when I moved in, but there's something to be said to just turning around to get from your stove to your sink.
- Dry heat - yeah, I get it now, but would the former-Midwesterners please stop telling me how they can "never go back"?
- T.G.'s job - Turns out he's great with fifth, seventh, and eighth graders. Who knew? Most of the teachers have adopted "Mr. T.G's Three Laws of Stupidity": 1) Don't do anything stupid, 2) Don't wear anything stupid, 3) Don't be stupid. This covers most classroom situations, with the added bonus that 10-12 year-olds LOVE saying the word "stupid." But don't call any person stupid, okay? That breaks rule #1. He's also turned into the designated human bullhorn (years of voice training finally coming to fruition) and the assistant flag-football coach. Also the short kids' favorite locker-opener; surely someone should have realized that it is futile to assign a four-foot-tall child a top-tier locker.
- Local drivers - Could we just stop with the illegal u-turns please? Also, you can't all have broken turn signals.
- Dry heat - Not being sweaty is nice and all, but it's still 112 degrees, yo.
- The library - Discovered I'm totally spoiled by my previous public library experience. What do you mean I have to fill out paper ILL requests?
- It's still not Minnesota.
- Distractions - Look! A Walmart! A Target! Trader Joe's! I don't have to go to work! Let's play on the internet/needlessly window-shop/write blog posts!
Looks like it's time to get back to what I ought to be doing.
8.09.2011
Things I didn't know I would be doing this month
1. Moving (still pending)
2. Painting everything (done)
3. Hanging Venetian blinds (success!)
4. Changing the pull-cord switch in a ceiling fan (success! Stripping wires is a huge pain.)
5. Re-wiring three-way light switches (qualified success. Everything works but only one switch turns the ceiling fan on and off. Both switches control the fan-light. If anyone can explain how this is possible, please let me know.)
6. Pulling handfuls of cigarette butts out of the bush by the door (EW!)
7. Owning patio furniture for our sunshiny Arizonan patio.
8. Looking for a new doctor (anybody know any pregnant ladies in the Phoenix area?)
2. Painting everything (done)
3. Hanging Venetian blinds (success!)
4. Changing the pull-cord switch in a ceiling fan (success! Stripping wires is a huge pain.)
5. Re-wiring three-way light switches (qualified success. Everything works but only one switch turns the ceiling fan on and off. Both switches control the fan-light. If anyone can explain how this is possible, please let me know.)
6. Pulling handfuls of cigarette butts out of the bush by the door (EW!)
7. Owning patio furniture for our sunshiny Arizonan patio.
8. Looking for a new doctor (anybody know any pregnant ladies in the Phoenix area?)
7.19.2011
Happy panic
Last Friday, That Guy got a job offer, so we're moving. To Phoenix. Bonus craziness: he has to be there on Sunday for a staff retreat.
WHEEEEEE!
So we're a little loopy around here (plus I just ingested way more caffeine than I've had in, um, yeah). T.G. is going to fly out on Saturday, but I'll be sticking around for a few more weeks to pack/resign/sell the condo. Extra special thanks to the parents and friends who have been volunteering to help and/or take our cheap furniture. (Please, take our cheap furniture.)
Pros:
1. T.G. having a job!
2. Me quitting my job! (Which, don't get me wrong, has been a perfect job for me, but please see addendum 2 below)
3. Living near the Tall Relatives and Our Adorable Niece.
4. Living closer to Twin Sister and The Marine.
5. Living not-so-far-away from Mum and Pops.
6. Did I mention I'm quitting my job?
7. Swimming pools EVERYWHERE.
8. Big-city library system.
9. Real mountains not so far away.
10. The Grand Canyon.
11. Oh, I forgot: I'm quitting my job.
12. Cross country road trip!
13. No humidity
14. Probably better for T.G.'s allergies.
Cons:
1. Hot weather/no winter/where are they keeping the grass?
2. Having to retire my turtleneck collection, and what do I do with all six of my winter coats?
3. Living WAY far away from Mom, Dad, Eldest Sister and Mr. Currently-Doing-Research-in-Germany.
4. It isn't Minnesota.
5. Cross country road trip.
6. I don't think the cucumber plants will want to move with us.
Addendum 1: Sorry to anybody who is reading this whom I probably should have called/e-mailed. I can't remember who knows what right now.
Addendum 2: Have I mentioned that I'm pregnant, due in January?
WHEEEEEE!
So we're a little loopy around here (plus I just ingested way more caffeine than I've had in, um, yeah). T.G. is going to fly out on Saturday, but I'll be sticking around for a few more weeks to pack/resign/sell the condo. Extra special thanks to the parents and friends who have been volunteering to help and/or take our cheap furniture. (Please, take our cheap furniture.)
Pros:
1. T.G. having a job!
2. Me quitting my job! (Which, don't get me wrong, has been a perfect job for me, but please see addendum 2 below)
3. Living near the Tall Relatives and Our Adorable Niece.
4. Living closer to Twin Sister and The Marine.
5. Living not-so-far-away from Mum and Pops.
6. Did I mention I'm quitting my job?
7. Swimming pools EVERYWHERE.
8. Big-city library system.
9. Real mountains not so far away.
10. The Grand Canyon.
11. Oh, I forgot: I'm quitting my job.
12. Cross country road trip!
13. No humidity
14. Probably better for T.G.'s allergies.
Cons:
1. Hot weather/no winter/where are they keeping the grass?
2. Having to retire my turtleneck collection, and what do I do with all six of my winter coats?
3. Living WAY far away from Mom, Dad, Eldest Sister and Mr. Currently-Doing-Research-in-Germany.
4. It isn't Minnesota.
5. Cross country road trip.
6. I don't think the cucumber plants will want to move with us.
Addendum 1: Sorry to anybody who is reading this whom I probably should have called/e-mailed. I can't remember who knows what right now.
Addendum 2: Have I mentioned that I'm pregnant, due in January?
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