The Perfect Home

We have spent the last six weeks looking at houses and it has been a tremendous test of our patience, communication, and faith in the hope that we can find the right home for us and our family.

It all started with a listing for an incredibly rad mid century modern ranch in central Beaverton. Photos boasted a stunning post and beam style with walls of glass, restored hardwood floors throughout, and an updated kitchen with stainless steel counter top and bamboo flooring. Despite a lackluster location situated adjacent to a major commercial intersection and neighboring lots of car dealerships, we made the call and requested our first viewing. We didn't even have our financing approved yet but we were starstruck! Despite the enthusiastic listing, it still needed more work (especially updated energy efficient windows!) and at the top of our price point, we weren't interested in being the ones to provide the muscle (er, checkbook.) We were bit by the house bug, though, and finalized our financing so we could get out there and really look at more places.

I don't think we thought we would end up looking at as many houses as we did...

 

 

In as many cities as we did...

 

  

 

With as many different styles as we saw...

 

 

There were some definite NOS. There were some maybes. There were ones that I fell in love with but couldn't convince Dan it was right. Or vice versa. (Oh the domestic disputes...) And there were some that we both felt were THE ONE and put offers on. A total of FIVE of those. One didn't work out after the inspection, another didn't feel right after a couple of rounds of negotiations, and two went to other buyers who outbid us. But finally, FINALLY, one special little one became OURS today.

And I don't have a photo of it.

;-)

It is still being built!

It is a lovely little gem in Carlton.

We are beyond happy and look forward to beginning this new chapter of our lives...!!!

Stay tuned!

October Eighteenth, Two Thousand Twelve

Leah Ruth. Age 32.

Don Raine Alexander. Age 1.

My birthday morning started off with this a certain megawatt dimpled smile. Could there be anything better!?! :) Raine woke up a pinch earlier than usual which was very, very nice of him because mama was stinky and needed that extra time for a shower. We played and had breakfast, watched some Barney and Sesame Street. We dressed up in our finest. It was a special day, after all. We were making up for last year's pjs and drool. The rest of the day was made up of the usual Herzing celebratory things...Flowers, beer, and fun.



Raine and I stopped at the store for a chai and some flowers to put on my desk at work. I set Raine down on the ground and let him grab for whatever bouquet he wanted mama to have. He has great taste! ...And then he was off and walking away from me, grabbing at discounted DVDs and magazines. I am just beginning to let him down to toddle around and explore in stores. It is adorable and I am not ready at all for him to get better at walking and ...running! ;)

My boys met me at Sawatdee for lunch. Raine devoured his first plate of Thai food like a real champ. I don't think we could have been more proud! After lunch we walked next door to the grocery store for a cookie. Raine was sweet enough to blow out his diaper and drench his pants for me. I struggled with that one in the grocery store bathroom for a good ten minutes. He had already blown out his cute corduroy pants for the baby-sitter that morning, so THANK THE HEAVENS I was a good mama and had a THIRD change of clothes in his bag. Just when you think you don't need a THIRD change of clothes? YOU DO.

On Tap On My Birthday! Cheers!

When I got home from work that night, I was excited to find another bouquet, card, and presents on the coffee table. After we put Raine to bed I ripped open the card and presents. I have to say, I was a little disappointed. It was weird. Dan got me baking sheets and a pizza stone. Not that these aren't great things to have in the kitchen, but you know, I'm NEVER in the kitchen. That's Dan's thing. Yes, I am trying to cook a little more and he is doing a great job patiently teaching me, but you know, cooking tools are the kind of gifts that I usually give Dan. And these were two things that I had happened to mention recently that we needed to pick up at the store. Our current baking sheets were beyond repair and we broke our pizza stone years ago. I recently ordered some pizza dough from Amy's Wildtree Tasting Party and Dan said we should get a stone again for it. These just weren't the types of special gifts that had much to do with me at all.

I spent about fifteen minutes folding laundry before I finally told him in an outburst: "That was like me getting you light bulbs for your birthday!" I told him how disappointed I was that there was no special thought behind his gifts. He said he lost track of time and did the best he could but he was sorry I was upset. He asked if there was anything he could do to make up for it.

I could totally picture him running into the store after picking Raine up from the baby-sitter and making a mad dash through the aisles trying to find something to get me. I saw him getting the card and signing it really fast. I saw him grab the same bouquet of flowers that I had already sent him a picture of earlier that day. It just seemed so UNLIKE him. (I know there are many of you reading this who find this to be absolutely typical behavior but my husband was raised by a crazy, creative, thoughtful, and often romantic father and his crazy, creative, thoughtful romanticism rubbed off on Dan big time. It just wasn't like him to not put some extra thought ahead of time into my birthday!)

While Dan cooked dinner I approached him again and explained that I wasn't trying to be mean or naggy. I just thought it was unusual for him and wondered if there was something else wrong. I mean, I really dragged the situation out. I popped another beer open and waxed and waned on his history of sweet gestures. I emphasized that it wasn't about the gifts themselves--at least, it wasn't about the size of the gift. I wasn't expecting another iPad like Mother's Day or a love-bomb of letters from all of my friends, like he organized on my 30th. But even in the absence of fancy gifts, scavenger hunts, or other sweet surprises, there was at least a very heartfelt hand written message in a card or letter. So I was stumped. There was just something missing that showed his genuine and thoughtful spirit that I had grown so accustomed to experiencing! We ended the night joking that he had totally set himself up for future failure by an early history of awesomeness. I mean, you can't be perfect each and every single time, right? LOL.

Well, actually, YES, you CAN be perfect each and every single time. And he did it again. I'm sure his father would be proud. He pulled off a huge surprise.

At the end of the evening, I climbed into bed exhausted only to find something unusual next to me. A flat screen TV was hidden underneath the sheets.

OH MY HECK. 

We had been talking about getting a TV for our bedroom for a while now but hadn't officially decided. I secretly really wanted one but felt like it was such a silly and frivolous thing so I hadn't pushed it or bought one myself.

Dan laughed and teased, "And you think I'm not paying attention!" I pretty much started crying because I had been giving him grief all night long! I was so totally thrilled but at the same time absolutely horrified that I had complained and been a baby. I couldn't believe he didn't just tell me a few hours earlier and save all the trouble of listening to me go on and on!

Needless to say, it was a wonderful surprise. And he is so stinkin' awesome that he knew it would be an even BETTER surprise if he let me wait it out in my misery until the very end of the night! ;)

Awesome.

Weekend for Play

I've had two days of slight improvement, and this weekend was sunny and eventful...

Friday night Dan went to the driving range with Matt and I joined Gayle, Abbie, and Garrett at the movies...Zach Ephron is so dreamy! (I guess.) 17 Again? Pretty funny thanks to Thomas Lennon. Tweenyboppers unite in their love for it...

Saturday Dan hit the golf course with Matt and Jesse while I slept in. We spent the afternoon finishing rearranging the living room! (Photos soon...) In the evening, we joined Patrick and Teressa at Richard and Jeanette's new house for a housewarming gathering. Microbrews, a yummy vegan smorgasbord, apples to apples, and guitar hero. Not to mention great company! (Rocco even had a play date with Marlowe!) The photos above of the giant bike were taken that night. Their friend, Clint, wizzes around town on it. Richard and Patrick gave it a try, so I couldn't help myself! Sometimes I really like to do something that I am a little afraid to do...And I'm so glad I did it! It was hilarious!! Dan was very proud of me (especially because he was a little chicken to do it.)

Sunday we hit Hagg Lake to find some trout. We failed miserably. But we did get to enjoy the sun, a few beers, just the two of us.....Well, and Rocco. Who went offleash for the first time while being outdoors with us. Dan was very nervous letting him run around, but I kept optimistically arguing that if he ran off, he'd come back. Actually, HE WON'T. Dan totally won the domestic dispute. There was a good 10 minutes when we thought we'd completely lost him. Other than that, he did really well and even romped around in the lake! We all napped hard when we got home and then pigged out on dinner and watched Burn After Reading (very good).

Musings on My Relationship With Illinois

Sometime shortly after Dan and I had brazenly moved across the country and set up our newlywed domicile in Portland, I began an intense internal dialogue regarding my love/hate relationship with Illinois, and to be more specific, Washington, Illinois, a small town outside the "big city" of Peoria, where I spent twenty-four years of my life, and where to this day, remains my immediate family and several beloved friends. On the one hand, it's where I grew up and holds myriad memories, including some very difficult times where I forged a connection with my surroundings, my heritage, and my self-identity. It is why I have a tattoo of corn on my arm. And consider family--All of our immediate family has built their nests in Illinois, not far from many of our relatives. Dan's entire kinship (save one genius cousin at Berkeley) splatters the greater Chicago area, and many of my aunts, uncles, and cousins reside in Illinois. We have great relationships with our families and both come from homes with fun traditions and tremendous love and support. On the other hand, we both wanted to get away--try something new, see a new part of the world. Chicago was a little too big, cold, and stinky. Washington was too small, cold, and boring. We found a place that was just the right size, temperature, and consistency. We made good friends, had good jobs, our marriage flourished. But Portland and Illinois are 2,000 miles apart. And we aren't rich. We are lucky to make a visit once a year.

My internal dialogue reached a peak one sunny afternoon as we took a lazy drive through the country up to Mt. Hood. As we passed rolling hills dotted with complacent horses and cows and dense patches of evergreens, I asked myself Why am I not content here? I decided that I would return to my small hometown, regardless of the qualities that made me flee--a lack of culture, vibrancy, diversity, opportunity--because I owed it to Washington. I thought, How can a place change if everyone leaves? I felt a burst of motivation and a combination of sentimentality, creativity, and entrepreneurship. I would return to contribute to the greater Peoria area as an active and progressive consumer, small-business owner, alumni, community member...Combined with an intermittent longing to be "home" for Christmas, spending shopping afternoons with my best friend, or taking Dan to my Aunt and Uncle's cabin at Spring Lake State Park for lazy days of fishing and reading, this newfound direction back to Central Illinois felt gratifyingly sound. I could justify cold winters and small town culture shock if I felt a dramatic sense of duty and fulfillment. Besides, as long as Dan was with me, I'd be happy wherever I was.

However, pros and cons still racked my brain constantly, almost unconsciously. Every time we tried a new restaurant or pub, the taste of gourmet vegan dishes and seasonal craft brews tugged at me. Every time I hopped on the streetcar, picked up a Willamette Weekly, met a friend for cocktails, saw a show at Doug Fir, or discovered a new locally-owned boutique, I relished in the creative bliss of Metropolitan living, and couldn't imagine giving it up! And how much harder to give up such a unique Metropolitan as Portland--small, nestled in Pines, rivers, and mountains, dog-friendly, and home to the Oregon Brewers Festival?

So the battle went back and forth. The last visit I spent in Illinois, last fall, I felt certain we would return to watch our new nephew grow up, spend summers at Apple Canyon with Dan's family, settle down and buy a house--the major bargaining chip the greater Peoria area had to offer--given its incomparable real estate prices. I could picture it: Our very own bungalow with a cozy kitchen, big yard for more dogs, a cute little nursery. I just had to return to Portland to finish schooling, and then we'd be back! Right?

Wrong. Because when I returned, and I returned "home," I was reminded that "home" is not a place where I was born, where I went to school, where I had my first job, or even where my parents are. The day I married Dan, "home" became Dan. My first priority is Dan, not friends, family, or hometowns. And I realized that my inner arguments had conveniently kept Dan's input out of the equation. What did Dan really want? How could I expect my husband to feel the same sentimentality and sense of purpose for a town he never knew and that offered him very little in terms of his needs and passions? I felt guilty and began researching aspects of Washington/Peoria that would appeal to Dan; nursing programs, state parks, real estate costs, organic produce and farmer's markets, friends living nearby.

Not long after, while we celebrated a friend's birthday at an Irish Pub downtown, I let slip plans to move back. Dan remarked firmly his dissent. Tears stung my eyes at his obstinacy, and I refused to talk about it. The rest of the meal was an awkward attempt at not really talking to each other and pretending we weren't having a DOMESTIC DISPUTE. I didn't want the night to end--as soon as we were alone, I would hear the words I didn't want him to say: He doesn't want to move back. Specifically, he doesn't want to move back to Washington. I couldn't be happy there without him, I couldn't be happy anywhere without him. My dreamy, nostalgic, and dutiful bubble burst.

After traveling back to Illinois to meet Logan, see our friends and family, and celebrate special occasions, we've come "home" again, and our path is clear: we will compromise. With both of us on board, we are exploring the possibilities of moving geographically closer to Illinois (as in, we're broke, but we can still go see our family and friends) while considering our central needs:

• Locations for nursing programs (particularly for second degree candidates)
  
• Milder climate than Chicago
  
• Access to outdoor sports and art museums, farmers markets, etc.
  
• Real estate prices lower than Chicago/Portland
  
• Job opportunities in our areas of interest: nursing, landscaping, brewing, writing, publishing, retail
  

I asked Dan, if we moved somewhere new, and someone asked, "Where are you from?" What would you say, Illinois or Oregon? He replied, "I moved here from Portland but I'm originally from Illinois."

Does anyone have any recommendations where we can go from here?