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.

8 Years of Newlywedness. Hurray!

 

From hubby...Only letterpress for his lady! Lark Press, PDX.

Dinner at our favorite local restaurant, Sawatdee.

Baby Rocco watches TV with us.

Picking up El Cranko Cranky Babe (but still super cute!) from Matt & Gayle's.

Starflowers from hubby & my card to him ~ Encanto Press, PDX.

On tap.

Dear Blasty, Please Be Born In August

I have officially entered what I like to refer to as the "nearing the 3rd trimester freak-out." LOL. The reality of Blasty's arrival is hitting full force and everything is starting to look different and I can't help but feel unprepared. There have been several components to this freak-out and while I think the majority of them have passed, I would not be surprised if something else popped up and kept me going for the ride.

The thing that sparked the freak-out was my second guessing the decision to return to work after Blasty is born. This was something that we figured out very early on in the pregnancy and I stood firm by the decision despite the opinions and comments of others. I told our family in my Week 15 letter:

"I have one particular little birdie in my ear quite often about my decision to return to work after Blasty is born. She has the best of intentions (I believe) in encouraging me to stay at home, but it is becoming a little upsetting because she keeps bringing it up, telling me about the bad side of daycare and emphasizing how I will change my mind when I hold the baby for the first time. Believe me, I always imagined I would be a stay at home mom, so this isn't easy for me but I have to accept it. Dan's company doesn't offer insurance for dependents and mine does. The company pays my entire monthly premium and when the baby is added we will pay a small premium. That is affordable for us, and I feel very lucky to have the good plan that I have with $10 co-pays for all of my visits, ultrasounds, and labs. Even though my entire income will go to the insurance premium and daycare, it is the best solution because we couldn't afford independent insurance premiums and medical bills on Dan's salary alone. So this decision, and having to explain it to people who expect me to stay at home, has been the most difficult one I (and Dan I think) have come across so far! Welcome to parenthood, right?? :)"

Because of our insurance and income situation, the answer seemed clear. Then two weeks ago, a friend casually asked about whether or not I would return to work, and all of the sudden I was on the internet searching for options. I wanted to stay at home. There had to be a way! We made our decision based on the assumption that we would not be able to afford independent insurance premiums, but I never researched what those were. I had no idea what it would cost. I didn't know how to insure a newborn or how I would get back on the state's high risk plan without being wait-listed, but I never even investigated these things. Didn't I owe it to our new family to do the research? That week I became OBSESSED with finding answers. I initially spent an hour looking at the state of Oregon's web site trying to make sense of all of the information before I started crying. It was so overwhelming. Fortunately, a friend gave me the name of an insurance broker and I was able to put all of the research into her hands.

She immediately found out some helpful information for me that put a few pieces of my big, scary insurance puzzle together. We discovered that now that I have group insurance through work, I have portability rights. Therefore, should I lose my job and/or coverage, I am entitled to stay with my insurance company and have several plan choices. This is huge! They can't just drop me and refuse coverage because I have pre-exisiting conditions. WOW~! I never knew it! In fact, the portability rates with my company are far better than the state's high risk pool that I was covered with for several years here in Oregon. Cool!

In the meantime, I met with my boss to discuss my maternity leave. As hard facts were presented, I was disappointed to find out that I will not be able to take as much time as I had hoped (16-18 weeks) but I will at least have 12. Also, coverage for Blasty on my work plan would be much pricier than I thought. Without knowing yet if it was possible, I let her know that I was considering not returning to work. As I told her this, I felt like I was in an alternate reality. I didn't really know if I could stay at home but I was in a real fierce bubble of MAKING IT HAPPEN.

Despite the good news that I could maintain coverage and add a dependent when Blasty was born, the decision still came down to the numbers. While I waited for the broker to get back to me with rates, I started re-working our budget and over-over-over analyzing what to do. I knew without calculating anything yet that staying at home would crunch the life out of our budget and there would be no room for any errors. It seemed a little risky but shouldn't it be worth it? I hemmed and hawed, tugged Dan's ear and then tugged Megan's. Over the weekend, I hit rock bottom. I woke up at 4 a.m. and my mind was racing. I worried, worried, worried. Money. All about money. I cried. Later that day, I crunched the budget again with Dan's input and really looked at our numbers. This is what I should have done in the first place. Sigh. We just don't have enough numbers in our bank account to keep me at home with Blasty. Unless the broker called me up and said, "Surprise! We can cover you and your baby for free!" I cried and cried. Not only did my bubble POP! ...It drenched everything around me. Come Blasty's arrival, our financial situation is changing big time. After painstakingly revising our non-fixed expenses, the numbers leftover STILL didn't add up to much. We are going to be making ends meet on much less than I realized. I felt like SUCH a fool for not facing this reality sooner.

And yet, there is still time to prepare. We still have a few months to gear up and save what we can. I calmed my freak-out by focusing on the silver lining of this cloud: by calling up that broker, we are actually going to save money. She found a better independent insurance rate for Blasty (with the same insurance company, duh) than the one I would pay my company. She will save us $200 a month! Hooray!

But here's the catch, and why I am whispering to Blasty, Please be born in August!

New federal requirements appoint two months out of the year for enrollment for insurance for children under 18. Those months are August and February. This means that if Blasty is born in August, we can have the paperwork submitted ASAP and he will have insurance. If he waits and is born in September, then we can not enroll him until February. How CRAZY is that?! If that happens, we will have to use my company's plan until February. We are going to have to prepare for this scenario just in case.

If Blasty is born in August, he will save his family $1200 in his first 6 months of life. Like, way to go little man!!!

But I can't make him show up on time. So my first lesson learned in my first freak-out of my giant-nearing-the-3rd-trimester-freak-out? There are some things as a parent that we can't control. All we can do is prepare ourselves for the UN-planned. And I feel very fortunate to have a husband and father-to-be that I feel like I can do that with. I think we are a good team. I am very grateful that he was there for me and willing to talk and do whatever I needed to figure this all out.

And he got a little reward for sticking around: first contact with Blasty! In the quiet of the morning on Saturday, I woke up and wiggled across our GIANT bed to snuggle against him. He put his hand on my belly and Blasty gave him a little kick. ;-)

the number after five but before seven:

6

still best friends. still like kissin. still think we are so stinkin funny.

top ten necessities for a married couple living with a roommate

1. patience
2. dvr
3. two bathrooms
4. surplus of spoons and bowls
5. chore calendar
6. wine
7. cell phones
8. if possible, additional living room furniture or an extra large couch
9. date night
10. sense of humor

Last Post

Darlings,

There IS a reason that we have not posted for, um, EVER, because the days have flown by while we wrestled with some major life changing incidents, which lead us to the decision that we will be moving back to Illinois. The only readers that I know we have, you darlings, are probably fully aware of this. If there are any of you that I don't know about, you, darlings, are hearing this for the first time.

Early spring is always a difficult time of year for me. There is something about the year cycle in my mind, mood, and memories that causes me to struggle deeply in the March-June stretch. I've always been fairly candid on this blog about my physical and mental struggles, but during this time I have not been able to write. As these things affect every aspect of my life and our marriage, Dan and I did some tough thinking about our situation in Oregon. This last severe phase of my depression revealed that in the case of emergency, both of us do not want to be handling it isolated here in Oregon. I don't mean to sound morbid (if that does sound morbid) but it is our reality. So, in April we made the decision that we would move to be closer to our families and friends, specifically my hometown, Washington, because we need a greater support network. My family and friends in Washington and Chicago were there with me before when I had been admitted to the hospital and they have a depth of knowledge and intuition about my depression that both Dan and I need to have close to us.

After we decided, we waited a long time to tell everyone. We had friends and coworkers to consider and the timing was very specific. Now that everyone knows, I decided to finally post. Ironically, we also accepted an offer on our condo today and will be closing at the end of July. Ahead of us? Packing, moving to a temporary apartment, saving money, and then moving to Illinois in December with our rowdy children in tow; Hobbes detests car rides, Rocco barks out the window the whole time, and Blake has never seen the outside world from a baggy before.

Because there has been so much to write about but we have not been able to write about it, this blog seemed to be buried in a moratorium. Now we have decided to "end" it. The nice thing about this blog is that it has been like a diary of our lives for the past 2 years and we will print the entire thing out, converting it back to paper to add to our chest of all of those emails we wrote when we dated and the myriad cards, notes, and letters we've given each other over the past 6 years.

I feel ready for this...If I kept the blog going, I wouldn't be able to post for another year; there will be so much going on until then!

So this is goodbye. For now. We will absolutely resume an internet presence once we are settled in Washington and ready to broadcast our lives to everyone here, there, and elsewhere.

Until then, you can talk to us on Facebook and still see photos on Flickr.

I hope the greatest thing that came across in this blog was how much Dan and I love each other and love our life together.

And that love is what guides our greatest decisions.

xoxo,
dan + leah

10 Marriage Adjustments Each

For Me:

1. Snoring
2. Keeping the bread and peanut butter in the fridg
3. His very unorganized drawer (yes, he only gets 1)
4. Having my boobs stared at or grabbed on an irregular basis (sorry parents but it's true)
5. Watching sports, including NEVER missing a single Bears game (which I don't mind anymore)
6. Speaking of sports, having passages read to me from books like "Watching Baseball Smarter"
7. Eating healthy dinners (again, which I don't mind)
8. Loud punk music
9. Stinky socks
10. A messy car, including spiders and lawn debris on occasion

For Him:

1. An obsession with E! network and Celebrity reality shows.
2. Hair in the sink, shower drain, pillows, and bathroom counter. I think she sheds as much as
Hobez!
3. Speaking of.....living with a grumpy cat.
4. Being late.....at least she gets to the airport in enough time for me not to be sweating!
5. Having to watch "period pieces" every once in awhile.
6. Having to cook for two........I still can't get portion sizes right!
7. Boobs all up in my face all the time......(that is not entirely true, yet funny)
8. Having to launder things that have "special care instructions".
9. Worrying about my foot odor.
10. Plastic bags on every door handle....for all your garbage disposal needs.

Congratulations to Ross & Amy!

Ross & Amy Mulder

Married Saturday, March 28, 2009
Cornerstone Church
Bourbonnais, Illinois

xoxo

Getting Hubby Ready for My Trip

My Amelia is getting married this weekend in Illinois, so I will be making a trip for the occasion. I am so very excited to be there for this event, and I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE my husband for making this happen for me. I haven't packed yet, though I leave tomorrow. I've mostly spent the day running errands and getting Dan prepared for my absence. What might this entail?

• Dishes and a clean kitchen
• Therefore, an easy and quick dinner tonight: frozen veggie lasagna
• Loads of laundry so he has fresh work clothes
• General pick up around the house so that I don't come home to too much of a mess and he doesn't have to worry about it.
• Set-up bill payment instructions complete with days they need to be paid and passwords to all of our accounts.
• Secret notes
• A list of things for him to do while I am gone

List of things he needs to do while I am gone:

• Browse the cookbooks we got at the library for next week's menu
• Buy food for Rocco and try to get him an appointment for a nail trim (those nails are seriously going to hurt someone)
• Fantasy Baseball draft on Saturday
• Watch NCAA basketball
• Eat pizza
• Shower at least once
• Clean something (hopefully the litter box)
• Miss wifey
• Pick wifey up at the airport Tuesday!

Not too bad, right?

I'll miss you, dude.
xoxo

At My Desk: Marriage & Bipolar Disorder

Listening to: Fleet Foxes and Blitzen Trapper

Stack of books: World Changing; A User's Guide for the 21st Century, The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism, A Short History of Nearly Everything, Great American Short Stories, Farmer's Almanac, Autobiography of The Bible, The Art Book.

Pile: Daily planner, inner-work notebook, bill-play planner, to do folder, fit journal, receipts to enter, index cards with screenplay scenes.

Miscellaneous: Presidents of the U.S. portrait and date bookmark, recycled POM glass full of ginger ale, photo of Harrison Brent in a newspaper clipping from Washington Courier, January 14, 2009.

The boys: Rocco chews a bone next to the heater at my right, Dan reads on the couch at my left, Blake swims eagerly in fresh water at 80 degrees. Hobbes? I have no idea. Probably sulking in the bedroom.

Thinking about: I have officially weaned off of Prozac and I am only taking a mood-stabilizer, Lamotrigine (generic for Lamichtol) at 200 mg daily for my illness. This life-long illness has yet to have a stable definition, as if it seeks to echo my tumultuous moods. Dr. Cirino, my current psychiatrist, said I have bipolar disorder, heavy on the mixed episodes but also rapid cycling, so no, I am not textbook. This means my illness is defined as Bipolar Disorder NOS (Not Otherwise Specified), a catch-all diagnosis used in cases such as mine. Even if it is ambiguous, I cleave to a diagnosis at last.

BDNOS. Bananas drive north or south.

We were vigilant about my drug swap-out. Three months ago I began to slowly reduce Prozac while beginning and increasing Lamichtol. In the past, I have not proved exceptional at swap-outs. I get extreme. As I have lightly referenced, I have not been drinking alcohol for a while, and I see in hind-sight that this was key in maintaining as close to a level mood as possible. I have done very well over this time, particularly given the surprises of grief, travel, unemployment, and challenges with my FMS (Fibromyalgia, or, finches move slow.) Dan is there for me, silently, like a guardian angel. You know, a really HOT one.

But he's not a guardian angel, as much as my mom thinks he is. He's a man who is my husband. Every day his phone rings and there are hundreds of clients, totals, notes, plants, crewmen, machines, or weather to consider. He handles a lot of money and a lot of people from 5 a.m. to 5 p.m. In the evening, he wants to chill, read or listen to music, watch some TV, eat some food. He'll fall asleep at about ten o'clock on the nose. Where does a partner fit in this picture, when on occasion she starts to cry in the middle of dinner or a light comedy? When she cries with no apparent reason and shuffles off to lay in bed, motionless but with her eyes open in the dark?

I never have answers for him. I don't know what is wrong; it just so happens the world opens up in a swell of numbness and swallows me as it closes. When I feel far away in its grasp, I'll have him touch his hand to my back. Flesh to flesh seems to work best, like an infant that needs touch as it grows. If I cry he waits for me and holds me. His hand finds a circular motion and settles into the repetition.

This is all we have worked out so far. It is not insignificant. This is life. Bananas drive north or south and finches move slow. This is the first step to being as healthy as I can possibly be. We will walk these baby steps.

Flowers in a jar: Lavender spider mums

On the dry erase board: Research list for screenplay, Dan's snail.

For dinner tonight: Swiss chard and poached eggs over spaghetti noodles

Pasta in Creamy Red Pepper Sauce

[Din-din & my hand-embroidered doily!]

When you only get about three hours together every night before falling asleep (maybe 4 on the weekends), you learn to power-pair-bond. One of the ways we do this is cook together. Despite the small kitchen, it works, and it's just as good a time as any for talking or kissing. We made this a few weeks back, but it was so tasty, we took a pic. Here's the recipe:

Pasta in Creamy Red Pepper Sauce

2 onions, chopped
1 tsp chopped garlic
1 small red chile, chopped
2 tblsp olive oil
13 oz can peeled tomatoes
1 large red bell pepper, chopped
2 tblsp chopped fresh basil
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp sugar
1/4 tsp white pepper
8 oz pasta (recipe calls for fettucine but we used what we had on hand)
5 fl oz cream

1. In a medium-sized, heavy-based saucepan, cook the onions, garlic and chile in the olive oil over low heat until the onions are soft and translucent. Add the tomatoes, bell pepper and other ingredients except for the pasta and cream. Cook uncovered, stirring occasionally, until reduced and thickened.

2. Put a large pan of lightly salted water on to boil for cooking the pasta. A small splash of oil in the water prevents boiling over. Boil the pasta while sauce is cooking, and when tender but still firm to the bite, pour cold water into the pan to stop the cooking. Drain noodles in a colander.

3. Add cream to sauce, stir and heat through without boiling. Taste and adjust seasoning. Toss the pasta in the sauce and serve at once.

White Rock, B.C.

There I am, standing in the rain in front of Boundary Bay, cloaked in the night. We enjoyed what I thought was a quiet and romantic dinner at Charlie Don't Surf, one of the numerous oceanside restaurants in White Rock. Enveloped in rich, red velvet walls with chandeliers and fireplaces, we dined on sweet potato fries with garlic dip, warm foccaccia bread and olive oil, and a hearty spinach salad with peppers, walnuts, and mango vinaigrette. We gazed into each other's eyes. We flirted and held hands. Then I realized hubby wasn't interested in hanging around for a decadent dessert. He was boiling hot from the fireplaces. :-)

Poached Eggs for 2

Tonight I requested this for dinner, via the kitchn, via Bon Appetit. I wish I knew French like I used to. Hubby obliged. After 1 round of Jeopardy and 2 rounds of Family Feud; it has been a laid back evening. Last night we sat on the porch and discussed death. How often do you do that with your loved ones? It is appropriate when you have been to a funeral and cried.

Relishing tonight's food. Relishing it all.

I Know, I Know!

Sorry I haven't been posting frequently....and I know I forgot to post August's artist of the month. I have something special planned for that, so stay tuned. I HAVE BEEN A BUSY BEE!

• Finding THE JOB.
• Cleaning and reorganizing our walk-in closet.
• Getting copy of wedding certificate for passport renewals and getting all forms in on time.
• Designing and publishing the M REVIEW.
• Working, amidst pretty tiny clothing new for fall.
• Having weird dreams and continuing my insomnia streak. Shark week is over but thank God I have the olympic reruns at 3 a.m.
• Walking Rocco [One of my favorite memories of all time will now be :::: Hubby and I walking Rocco down to the end of Langer Park, then back through the sprinklers. I got drenched, Rocco tried desperately to avoid them, and Dan took one opportunity to stop me in my tracks and give me romantic smooches in the moonlight. *Sigh.*]
• Preparing for upcoming trip to Illinois, including gathering all things stockpiled for THE NEF.
• Combing Hobbes' jungle of hair.
• Meeting with new doctors.

Too Cute!

Earlier, an elder gentleman poked his silver head in the door of the shop and peered around.

"I'm looking for my wifey!"

I told him I hadn't seen anyone for a while and he smiled, thanked me, and continued up the street.

I almost called my hubby right there on the spot to tell him how much I love him.

Week of Ups and Downs

Well, mostly downs. The job hunt has been stressful and unfruitful. I'm grasping at anything at this point...About ready to apply at the gas station as long as they have benefits. I've also had a tough time with my depression...Which hasn't been easy but has lead me to believe that the medication I have been on a long time may not be doing the job anymore. I had two doctor visits, which always stress me out the night before, but in the end they were good. Dr. G. is supportive of baby-making in good time and gave me a time-table to work with, and he also recommended a fabulous psychiatry clinic in Beaverton where I can start to work with someone specifically on my anti-depressant medication instead of with a general practice doctor. It has also been a year since I was seeing someone in therapy, and I've learned in this time that I need to have that. Today I had blood drawn and even though that stresses me out, my day was brightened by the adorable man-nurse with dreads and a great sense of humor. He took really good care of me and I can't wait to see him next time. ;-) I've also been struggling with a major bout of insomnia this week, which hasn't helped my Fibromyalgia or Depression. What it has done is fired brain cells. I have gained knowledge regarding the major flea markets in the country and a special chateau in North Carolina, learned more from Pastor Scott (anyone who is awake at 2 in the morning is familiar with this Biblical scholar) and thanks to the Discovery Channel's Shark Week, I have come to understand the nuances of all American shark breeds and their locations, as well as South African Great Whites and Tiger sharks, the crazy experts that dive and swim along with them, and the not-so-wonderful stories of six people who have survived being eaten alive. I LOVE SHARK WEEK!

Anyway, tonight I was particularly frustrated after an entire day of rejections and employment trails that lead nowhere, but I had a wonderful massage and now I'm watching the results show of So You Think You Can Dance (or as we like to call it "So You Think You Have Pants"), with a whiskey and coke my hubby mixed, awaiting the fabulous bean and egg burritos he is preparing, and the lovely booger also pulled up six new job listings for me to look at while I was away earlier. I love my hubby. He takes such good care of me!

P.S. If you are in the greater Portland area and reading this and have the knowledge of a fabulous job for me, please let me know. ;-)

Memorial Day Lists

Apparently, everyone in the world had Memorial Day off of work except for me. Hmph. Well, I do realize it is a bit of a retail holiday, so I guess I understand. It actually turned out beneficial because Henny Penny was quiet, so I was able to tackle my list of to-dos that have piled up since we got back from vacation. On said list:

1. Print and cut 200 pamphlets for In Good Taste, Megan's dinner delivery business.
2. Print and cut birth announcements of Logan for my sister.
   
3. Finish reading submissions for M Review.
4. Edit accepted submissions for M Review.
5. Find yummy vegetarian recipes for this week's meal plan and make grocery list.
   
6. Organize and update my medical binder (recent doc visit before and after our trip rearranged my medications.)
7. Plan itinerary for Allyson's visit in three weeks.
8. Plan menu and details for graduation party, June 21st.
9. Research nursing schools for Dan.
10. Update blog.

I managed to check 3 items off my list, and they were #5, #9, and #10.

#5)

1. Grilled cheese sandwiches with sauerkraut on rye (um, sounded good, but why did I think I'd like it? I had a grilled peanut butter instead...)
2. Pesto tortellini with garlic and olive oil (dressed up with cheese and hot giaridiniera for Dan)
3. Chipotle bean tostadas
4. Chickpea and tomato salad
5. Spinach and orzo salad

#10) It felt good to write about Illinois, because it's something that I am constantly thinking about but find it hard to explain. (One of the reasons Dan and I fell in love with each other and clicked so well was because we both could communicate exponentially better by writing than talking, and our courtship before I moved to Chicago was essentially composed of long e-mails.)

#9) Fortunately, I found All Nursing Schools, a nifty little web site that makes it super easy to find programs anywhere in the country. However, I didn't anticipate the small amount of schools that offer second degree programs. Dan already has a BS in Biology, so ideally we want him to be able to build off of rather than start from scratch getting an Associates for RN, then doing an RN-BSN track, which would take longer and cost more money. Unfortunately, Dan's hopes for trying schooling here in Oregon (and then getting a job wherever we would move to) were thwarted by the fact that there are no programs that accommodate this situation. The results in other geographical areas of interest were:

1. University of Northern Colorado School of Nursing in Greeley, Colorado
2. Colorado State University School of Nursing in Pueblo, Colorado
3. University of New Mexico College of Nursing in Albuquerque, New Mexico
4. University of Missouri Sinclair School of Nursing in Columbia, Missouri
5. Lakeview College of Nursing in Danville, Illinois
6. Spalding University School of Nursing in Louisville, Kentucky
7. University of Louisville School of Nursing
8. Northern Kentucky University School of Nursing and Health Professions in Highland Heights, Kentucky
9. University of Kentucky College of Nursing in Lexington, Kentucky
10. East Tennessee State University College of Nursing in Johnson City, Tennessee
11. Medical University of South Carolina College of Nursing in Charlotte, South Carolina

Whew! It's not much but it certainly narrows things down! (It's both exciting and bizarre to think we will be living in one of these cities.) We'll have to keep our fingers crossed as we continue to research because most of these schools are highly competitive and getting Dan into a program isn't going to be as easy as I thought it would be.

It's funny I did all that research for Dan, because when I got home from work, I found he had spent his day cleaning for me. What a sweetheart. (I told him to take a nap!) Dan's hard work included:

1. Vacuuming carpet
2. Sweeping and mopping floors
3. Cleaning toilets
4. Laundry
5. Cleaning garbage baskets and taking out garbage
6. Dishes and cleaning kitchen
7. Cleaning porch
8. Making bed
9. De-clogging drains in showers and sinks
10. Taking bottles to recycling at the store
11. Washing and cleaning out car
12. Cleaning out litter box
13. Cleaning and reorganizing kitchen drawers

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?

Lazy Sunday's Photos

Everybody up?

Read the paper, chew the bone.

Coffee on the porch.

Let's take a walk.


Gathering.

Look what we found.


Can we go outside again?

Happy Valentine's Day!

The Ache of Marriage

The ache of marriage:

thigh and tongue, beloved,
are heavy with it,
it throbs in the teeth

We look for communion
and are turned away, beloved,
each and each

It is leviathan and we
in its belly
looking for joy, some joy
not to be known outside it

two by two in the ark of
the ache of it.


--A poem we recently fell in love with, by Denise Levertov (subject of my senior thesis!)