Looking Forward to 2013

Hi there! I hope your holidays were happy and you got some time off to spend with loved ones.  I sure did.  And boy, am I glad the world didn't end!

These past few weeks have been all a blur.  When I wasn't working we were getting ready for Emmie's party.  That week Bruce's mom was out of town on vacation with his sister.  Even though I truly enjoy her company, I was pretty relieved that she wasn't around.  Bruce and I were able to cook in the kitchen, buy what we needed, decorate how we wanted, and clean on our own schedule.  With the matriarch gone, I felt more "in charge".  I was comfortable in the house almost as if it were my own.

The three of us - Bruce's dad, Bruce, and me - were in pretty good spirits that week.  On Sunday, Bruce's mom came home with Bruce's sister.  We learned from his sister that all week their mom had been stressing over the fact that she wasn't home to help us and that we "didn't want [her] help anyways."  Even though Bruce's sister explained many times, patiently, that wasn't what we meant, that we just wanted to feel like we were throwing our daughter's birthday party all on our own, she didn't want to understand or calm down.  So with her arrival came some undue tension.

Regardless, Emmie's birthday turned out to be as special as we'd hoped.  Her party went smoothly and people had a good time.  I made her very own "smash" cake in the shape of an owl and her dad and I showed her how to blow out the #1 candle on it.  She didn't smash the cake, though.  Instead, she ran her fingers through the chocolate icing like it was clay and she a sculptor.  Then she took her frosted hands and rubbed them all over her adorable face!

Emmie made out like a bandit with presents, though she was initially more interested in the wrapping paper than the clothes and toys.  Later, she discovered all her new play things and was a happy little girl.

The next day was Christmas Eve, and we spent it with Bruce's extended family.  I was extremely lucky to have the day off from the store to spend with everyone.  Emmie had her first bites of the homemade ravioli that her aunt traditionally makes for the holiday - yum!

Then on Christmas we woke up next to Emmie (we gave our bed to Bruce's sister) and wished her a Merry Christmas.  The week prior we had gone to the storage unit and found the box with our own ornaments.  Then one night when neither of Bruce's parents were home, we put on Christmas music and decorated the small pink, glowing tree we bought for her room.  It was an approximation of what we would have done in our own house with our own tree, and having those few hours as just the three of us, indulging in the Christmas spirit, made me so much happier.  That morning we had a few moments to ourselves before joining the rest of the household.

Emmie got so many presents!  Both sides of her family were ridiculously generous towards her.  Of course, she is the first grandchild for both sets of grandparents.  We are still trying to find room for everything, between her birthday and Christmas.

The other news I have to share is that Bruce and I have been in contact with our realtor!  We realized that we need to start looking for a house soon, because even though things are not that bad living here, they're not great, either.  During those days when I was working nearly every day, Bruce and I would bicker and fight.  Feeling were hurt.  We were too sensitive.  It was hard.  If we had our own house, it would be tough, too, to spend so much time apart, but with two other adults with moods of their own to affect us, it was worse.  We decided that we will try to get approved after the new year for a loan, and even if it isn't enough to get everything we want, we will make concessions.  Out of the blue, Bruce got an email from our old realtor, asking us how we are doing and when we'd be interested in buying (he aided us in finding our last rental).  We've been corresponding back and forth since!

We drove around on Christmas Eve, because Emmie fell asleep on the car ride home from Bruce's aunt's place.  We noticed that some townhouses near us have basements and are in (what we think) is our price range.  It was so exciting!  One of my "musts" for a home purchase is a basement - because of my fear of tornadoes.  Most townhouses in this area don't have them, but discovering some that do gives us hope.  Maybe we won't have our own yard to fence in.  Maybe we won't get his-and-her sinks or hardwood floors.  But maybe a house of our own will be within reach, sooner than we originally thought!

So I fondly bid 2012 adieu.  It was a bittersweet year of blessed highs and painful lows.  We raised our first child through her first year.  We also lost our sense of independence.  I can't wait to ring in the New Year - I can feel in my gut that new adventures are right around the corner!

Happy New Year to you, too.  See you on the flip side!

Merry Christmas!

From our family to yours!

Live Again

I have been a parent for almost a year now.  It's been full of scary moments... and I was already a fearful person.  The other day my baby fell while trying to walk and hit her face on the edge of the bed.  A nasty, swollen black eye appeared instantaneously and it took every fiber of self-control to not wail as loud as my daughter.

So when the unspeakable devastation occurred on Friday, I just about lost it.  I was a mess.  The tragedy realized my worst nightmare.  And it wasn't just me.  People who never imagined such horror were shaken to their cores.  The entire country has lost a bit of its innocence.

I can only say, that perhaps out of this atrocity our country will take steps to change for the better.  That maybe the lives that were lost can prevent future evil.  I have to hope.  I have to believe in tomorrow.  I have to, because even if I don't get to be around to witness a better world, I sure want my child to experience it.

I couldn't find a song today to express how I feel.  When I told Bruce, he suggested Foo Fighter's "Times Like These".  It just makes sense.  It's what we have to do, as individuals and as citizens.  We have to "learn to live again":

 

My heart and prayers go out to the victims and families of Sandy Hook.

Autonomous Annie

I did it! I survived my first semester back after childbirth.  Last night I posted final grades for Fall 2012.  I now have five glorious days off from the store to get my life back in order.  Here are some things I'd like do:

• Finish Christmas shopping and wrap presents.
• Get everything ready for Emmie's birthday party this Sunday.  That includes buying food and supplies, ordering the cake, and cleaning*.
• Send out goofy family photo Christmas cards that feature an adorable holiday dressed-up baby.
• Pack summer clothes away (Clearly long overdue).
• Finish Emmie's baby book up to her first birthday.
• Read a book.  My smartphone is a time sucker that must be abandoned!

How much do you think I'll actually get done?

I woke up feeling happy and motivated for the first time in a while.  This evening our good friend is watching Emmie while Bruce and I go on a much-needed dinner date.  I'll wear a nice outfit and we'll dine at an upscale Japanese place for which we bought a Living Social deal many months ago.  Finally, we're going to get to be husband and wife for a couple hours, not counting the grocery shopping we did at midnight the other night.

Another exciting thing about this week is that Bruce is taking his last vacation day for the year on Friday to be with Emmie and me.  Originally he took off the day after Christmas, but when my boss at the store told me there was no way I could take that day off, Bruce switched.  Yay! A whole day together!  Considering that it's supposed to be the end of the world (Chariots of demons in the sky! Fireballs raining down! Oh God, I'm only half kidding - nervous laugh), I couldn't think of a better day for us to all hunker down at home.

*Of course throwing Emmie's birthday party here at my in-laws' couldn't be without its issues.  It started a few days ago when Bruce's mom casually mentioned to me, "You'll have to clean the cat hair off these chairs... so people have a place to sit down."  Twitching slightly, I reassured her that everything would be spic and span for the party. 

I understand her concern; if I were going away on a trip and coming home to a party at my house I'd be anxious to make sure everything got done right, too.  But I don't need anyone to nag me.  So when I was having a chat with Bruce's dad about how glad I am to have these next few days off, and he said: "You need them, because you have a lot of cleaning to do around here," I almost flipped out.  I am under the impression that they have forgotten I'm a) not their child and b) not a child at all.  I did once have my own very tidy house at which I threw many very nice parties.

So when Bruce's dad started saying something yet again about getting everything done for the party in time - I spoke up.  And Bruce was there to witness it.  I said, "Dad, everything will get done.  Okay? You don't need to trouble yourself one bit."

He continued, "I just don't want you guys waiting until the last minute and then having to scramble."

"We won't.  But even if we do, Dad," I pressed, "It will get taken care of."

He's been told.  And THAT is how one adult converses with another.

Approaching the Finish Line

This morning I had my last class for the Fall 2012 term.  While my students are probably out celebrating the break from classwork, I still have to post grades.  I worked at the store until 10:40 p.m. and decided to try to get something accomplished now.

Grades are due on Monday, and by the grace of the General Manager after this weekend I'm not scheduled at the store for five whole days.  I can't wait!  There are so many parts of my life I've been neglecting!

Okay, I'm procrastinating.  Let's do this...

We Are Giggling Girls

I had a jam-packed weekend.  I worked a lot, but in between Bruce and I took Emmie to the city, where our friends unselfishly babysat her.  Bruce and I went out with another group of friends we don't get to see very often.  It was like a double rainbow.

The pot of gold, though, was the incredible news I received. I got a text message from my long-distance friend Lorelei late into Saturday night: "If u r not sleeping, can you call me?"

I called her as soon as I could wiggle my way out of the crowded brew pub.

You guessed it! My friend got engaged!  Her fiancé is this awesome guy who is her true match.  They've had an amazing journey together - and it's just going to keep going. I couldn't be happier for her - I've been walking around picturing her with her ring on, knowing that a wedding is in her future.

Today being Tuesday, I wanted to share "our" - mine and her - song, Ani DiFranco's "If He Tries Anything."  The other night when I was feeling down, I posted a blog entry and within minutes I had an uplifting text from my friend.  The uncanny thing is, I somehow knew she would be there for me in that moment.  Even though we are half this enormous country apart, she is as close to me as ever.

Lorelei, my imaginary TV show partner (I'm the Rhoda to her Mary or vice versa), I'll be watching you.  From the wings. 

As you walk down the aisle.



Nighttime Words Swilled with Wine

Hi. It's almost midnight on Thursday.  Let's pretend you are up and you are listening to me.  Would that be all right? Just for tonight.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table by myself.  Everyone else in the house is asleep.  I have a glass of wine and Ani DiFranco is singing "32 Flavors" on Pandora.  Tonight is my weekend.  I just got done teaching a Wednesday night class, then stayed up 'til 1 a.m. grading papers.  Grabbed a a few hours of sleep, then the alarm went off at 5:30 to get up, get ready, feed the baby and go to my morning class.  Teach, come home, take care of baby, then by 4:30 p.m. I was back in the car driving to the retail job.  Deal with customers, stock, clean, get out late.  Come home to a silent, still, lonely house.

The song just ended and "Fade Into You" by Mazzy Star is on.  My gears shift and I am miles back in thought, yearning.

Like usual, my feet are pulsating, swollen, hot in my socks.  My eyelids feel heavy, not helped by the wine, but I'm not ready for bed.  I'm really glad that Bruce's dad is asleep; normally he's the family night owl, perched in his usual spot on the couch.  If he were up, I wouldn't be down here typing and playing music.  Pondering.  Brooding. 

It is going to get better, right?  When I write I try to be positive, but let's face it.  I've been here for a while.  I'm forgetting what it's like to have my own life.  It's getting harder and harder to remember when Bruce and I were happy, when I'd plant a kiss on him as soon as he came home from work.  We're so stressed all the time.  In the past weeks we've seen each other rarely - it can take hours to feel like ourselves when we are together.  I fret; will it upset Emmie not to have her grandparents around when we finally move out?  What will it do to them when their house is empty again?  I sleep better here - it's the comfort of safety in numbers.  Will I lie awake worried in my new house someday?  When is someday?

This Pandora station is like a good friend giving me a hug.  The Indigo Girls are soothing me now with their gritty alto vocals and twangy guitars: "Love Will Come to You."  When I was in my early 20's, I would drive around and blast this song with the windows rolled down, praying with my whole heart.  Now I have that great love, but it's still nice to have the reassurance.

It is going to get better.  One day we will tell the kids how hard we worked to get where we are.  Tonight's just one sad night.  And it's really not that bad.  I've got wine and music and words.

And you - if you read this all the way through.  Thank you for listening.  Cheers.

Cars, Concerts, and "Clocks"

This week was all a rush!   I worked eight days in a row, between my teaching jobs and my retail job.  Then on my first day off I hostessed a bridal shower for my girlfriend Jeanette.  The next day we had scheduled a family portrait session for Bruce, Emmie, and myself.  We dressed the baby in an adorable Santa suit and all grinned for the camera.  By Sunday night I was exhausted and still needed to grade papers.

Now I am on another stretch, working every night and every other morning, alternating as an instructor and a sales associate. It's hard to be away from Emmie and Bruce in the evening.  He comes home, and I leave.  To be truthful, my absence has been the source of discord for us both, and I've already thought about quitting the seasonal job.  I know I just have to keep plowing along; when school ends I'll be glad I stuck it out.

This morning I was on the way to school when this song came on the radio in the car.  Last year, before I knew I was pregnant, Bruce and I bought tickets to Lollapalooza as our anniversary gift to each other.  By the summer, I was round with child, not what we had originally envisioned.  We went to all three days of the outdoor concert anyways. 

The first night, we saw Coldplay.  The sun was setting behind the skyline of the city, the buildings backlit a glowing Creamsicle orange and the lake in the East reflecting a deep cerulean blue.  The band came out and played a mix of the old tunes I have loved since before they were mainstream and songs from Mylo Xyloto that I hadn't yet heard.  If you didn't know, Coldplay puts on a mesmerizing light show which corresponds to their music.

Hormonal and awestruck underneath flashing green lasers and amidst a pulsating crowd, I started to cry.  Here I was, together with the husband I love and the child I was soon to have, every sense stimulated.  I felt so alive.

Once in a while, I hear Coldplay and I'm returned to that breezy summer night.  When this song started to play as I drove, I turned the volume up high.  At the end, Chris Martin sings, "You are - home, home.  Where I wanted to go."  The more I'm away from Bruce and Emmie, the more I understand that home is not a plot of land, four walls and a roof.  It's where your loved ones are.

'Tis the Holiday Season

I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving!  Ours was special because it was Emmie's first.  There was the normal stress of going to both family's festivities, but it worked out all right.  Emmie slept in the car from one house to the other, so she was well rested and smiley for everyone.  She had turkey and all the fixings - her bib looked like contemporary art by the end of the night.

After that it all got crazy for me.  I worked Black Friday at my new job! It was insane.  The store was crowded like a rock concert, and I was on autopilot: straightening displays, smiling, and asking if anyone needed assistance.  I don't know how I kept going.  It was exhausting.  I worked Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  Each night and morning I would take ibuprofen to ease my foot and back pain.

I also did something I've never done before: pumped at work.  I'm planning on nursing Emmie until she is a year old, as is generally recommended.  That means I have a month left.  Not wanting to dry up before then, I lugged a huge bag stuffed with the breast pump and all its parts into work.  On my half hour break (which should have been time for me to eat and rest) I stood in the bathroom, shirt unbuttoned, nursing bra undone, each hand holding a pump to my chest.  The electronic machine loudly wheezed in and out.  I was sure the employees could hear it on the other side of the door.  I know it shouldn't have been, but it was mortifying.  Afterwards I only had a few minutes to wolf down some soup and no chance to sit down.

My break from school flew by.  Bruce worried that this new job would overextend me, and it totally did.  I wasn't able to get my 'real' work done.  I missed an opportunity to visit with one of my best friends and her boyfriend, who were in from out of town.  Our bedroom, my pocketbook, the inside of my head - everything was disorganized.  I felt like I barely saw Emmie and Bruce.  I was glad when Monday came around.  Now I'm trying to get back into the regular rhythm of things.

When I was in my mid-twenties I taught at two different schools, tutored a couple times a week, hostessed at two different restaurants, and still found the time and energy to date Bruce and hang out with my friends.  What a difference a few short years makes!  I just keep telling myself that all this hard work will pay off for us.

One reason I'm glad I worked so much is that Bruce's family did their Christmas decorating while I was gone.  The holidays are really difficult for me this year.  I wish that we were playing Christmas music in our own house.  I wish that I was baking cookies in my own oven.  Bruce would hold Emmie and we would help her place our ornaments on our tree.  I don't even know where our tree is, let alone the box with our ornaments.  I see Bruce's parents' tree and their ornaments and everything and I don't feel joy.  I feel longing.  I feel sad.

Well, Emmie's going to have an awesome Christmas.  She's going to get showered with love and gifts.  She's a fortunate little girl.  I haven't forgotten to be thankful for all that we have.  Hard as I try not to, there's still a part of me wishing.  Maybe if we're really good and we work really hard, Santa will make our wish come true.

Thankful

I have been feeling particularly low the past couple of days, though there have been a few rays of sunshine. Today I will do my best to put aside my melancholy in exchange for turkey. And a glass of wine!

On this holiday, we get together with family and remember what is important. Hey - I know what I don't have. That's not what I'm all about. I will focus on all that I do have in life, and be thankful:

I am thankful for my loving, hardworking, strong husband. I am so lucky to have him as a partner for life.

I am thankful for my beautiful daughter, who fills my heart with pure joy as she grows.

I am thankful for my mother, father, and brother who are close by. They are the foundation of my being.

I am thankful for my in-laws who are all good people and have been there for us during hardship.

I am thankful for the life, health, and safety of all our family members - every day we are together on Earth is a blessing.

I am thankful to have the truest, deepest friendships with people who may not be related by blood, but are vital to me.

I am thankful to have work and the capability to endure. To be the kind of person who is flawed, but tries hard to improve. Who always looks for the positive.

I am thankful to have so much to be thankful for.

God bless you and your loved ones today. Eat and enjoy! May you have a very Happy Thanksgiving!

The One Thing I Don't Have to Buy

Happy Tuesday! After working the first shift of my new retail job, I went to bed last night with throbbing feet and woke up this morning with an achy back.  I'm no spring chicken anymore!  Good thing I like the job.

Anyways, I planned on taking my winter coat to the dry cleaner today, since blustery weather will soon be upon us.  I searched in the basement and the hall closet and our bedroom closet and can't find it.  It's maddening not to know where any of your stuff is, to be living out of boxes, like being on an extended stay somewhere away from home.

I was texting with Bruce about my frustration and wrote, "I wish we had a house already!"

So I bring you today's tune.  This song, "If I Had a $1000000" by the Barenaked Ladies, is from the 1990's, a time when Bruce and I were young with our whole adult lives in front of us. When we worked random jobs just so we could buy concert tickets and bottomless cups of coffee (and later, beer).

Before I had the chance to have a million dollars and I blew it.  But I'm not ready to talk about that yet!

As I was playing this video for Emmie, she bopped up and down to the music.  We don't have a million dollars and we don't have a house, but none of that matters to her.  Seeing my daughter smile and dance reminds me that I'm already rich.  Luckily, I don't need to buy any love - I have plenty.

Awesomely animated by 'cornisfunny'

Working News

Good News

My father-in-law got a job! After months of complaining about the online application process that every company uses nowadays, he walked into the local Big Box Store and asked to speak with a manager.  She liked him, and after a phone interview, in-person interview, drug test, and orientation, he is finally hired! My mother-in-law is thrilled.

Bad News

It's only temporary, for the holiday season, though there is a potential for him to get hired on permanently.  This isn't really my father-in-law's ideal job, and he would rather find another one.  Also, he's only working from 4 a.m. to 9 a.m. two days a week, which guarantees that me, Emmie, and him will still spend plenty of time in the house together.

Good News

I, too, got a seasonal part-time job!  It's at a store that sells my most favorite brand of purses EVER.  It's absolutely perfect timing, because over the winter break between semesters I don't teach for a month.  Thus, I don't earn a paycheck.  There is also the opportunity for me to come back in the summer, which is great because I only have one class lined up right now.  I love this company and am so excited to expand my product knowledge and talk about it with customers and get paid for it!  Plus, the employee discount is unbelievable!

Bad News

Bruce is worried that my paycheck will go right back to the company, because I'll be buying everything I see.  I have to exercise self-restraint!  Furthermore, it would have been wonderful to have all that time off with Bruce and Emmie, but then it would be harder for us to pay the bills.  Such is the sacrifice we have to make to get what we truly want in life.

Temperature Wars

As it gets colder here in Northern Illinois, so it does inside the house.  That means it's time to turn on the heat.  If it were my house, I'd keep the thermostat set at 68°.  My in-laws, however, like the thermostat set at a chilly 62°.

 

I found this out a few weeks ago when I was in my room.  The baby was napping and I thought, "Brrr!  I need more clothes on.  And a blanket, too."  My fingers and nose were pinkish-red.  Then I thought, "If I feel this way, imagine the poor baby! It's too cold in here!"

 

The American Academy of Pediatrics discourages the use of blankets in the crib until after the age of 18 months, to prevent SIDS.  I am a stickler for the rules.  That means the only solution is to turn up the temperature.  Downstairs I went; up went the dial to a much more comfortable 67°.  Five degrees higher.  I wasn't asking much.

 

Soon enough I was shivery again.  I checked the thermostat.  It was back down at 62° - not appropriate for a baby!  So I said something to my in-laws about how the baby needs it to be warmer in the house.  Bruce said something, too.  But day after day, we'd turn the thermostat up, and someone (neither would admit they were doing it) would turn it down.  It was infuriating.

 

One morning, Bruce and I woke up under the covers, sensing how frigid the air was in our room.  Even though we dress Emmie in layers to keep her warm, what about her little hands and her little face?  Sometimes Emmie's fingers would feel like tiny icicles.  This was ridiculous.  Don't Bruce's parents care about their granddaughter?  When they agreed to let us move in they knew that they'd have to make changes to accommodate the baby.  On top of that, we pay them rent! They can turn up the heat!  The smoke that was coming out of my ears might have fired me up, but it wasn't doing anything for our daughter's sake.

 

Bruce went downstairs to turn up the temperature yet again and encountered his mom.  He was angry and it showed.  "Mom," he growled.  "Why do you keep turning this down? What do I have to say to you to get this to stop? Don't you get it's too cold for the baby?"

 

"We're burning up in our room," she replied.

 

"Too bad!" Bruce responded.  "Take off your blankets, then!"

 

"The gas bill will be so much more."

 

Bruce wanted to yell, "Take it out of the rent we pay you!" But he didn't.  We don't want to cause trouble while we live here.  We don't want to fight, so we try to avoid bitterness.  But Bruce works for the gas company.  He knows five degrees of warmth won't cost much more than what they're paying.  "Mom," he said softly instead. "Do you need me to show you something on the internet about what the house temperature should be for a baby?"

 

His mom said no, it was fine.  Bruce turned up the dial once again and came back upstairs.  The dial hasn't moved since.

 

It looks like we may have won this round.  After a battle, though, you can't help but view your opponent in a new light.  For me, I am hurt and dismayed by this demonstration of stubbornness and selfishness.  Bruce is disappointed and embarrassed by his parents.  It's not nice to feel this way.

 

The baby is warmer, for sure, but the grownups are all a bit chillier towards each other.

If at First You Don't Succeed

Today's Tuesday Tune was emailed to me from my friend, Denny.  Bruce, Denny, and I love to hang out and watch videos on YouTube.  This one is awesome - Pink has incorporated incredible physicality into her music not only through choreography, but even flying a trapeze in her live shows.

The lyrics aren't entirely relevant to my particular situation; no one had lied or gotten "burned".  But living here definitely puts a strain on our relationship.  Bruce sometimes feels torn between his parents and his wife and child.  I feel like we've been displaced from our nest.  We can't communicate openly as a couple, among other things.  You can imagine.

But we're doing this to get to a better place, so that we don't have to keep "just getting by".  Every day I have to remind myself.  Especially when I'm angry or feeling hopeless.  Like Pink sings, we "gotta get up and try try try".

Maybe the words will have a different personal meaning for you.  Either way, I hope you like the video!

You Think You Know, But You Have No Idea

I have a few friends who are expecting babies!  I love talking to them about pregnancy issues and parenting surprises.  It's like we all veered off onto this long, unfamiliar road with the most amazing (and also sort of scary) landmarks.

This morning I was thinking about how these friends have no idea what's about to happen to them.  Really, I remember people giving me advice and me nodding, but it not really sinking in.  And so, I present to you the top things Bruce and I really couldn't understand until we became parents:

• You will never just grab your keys, get in the car, and go to the store ever again.
  
• Toys, stuffed animals, Disney movies, children's books: you will want to spend all your money on them.
  
• You will make choices you would have never made before.  Because it's not about you anymore.  The job you hate? You stay to pay the bills.  Move in with your folks? If it means the baby will have college savings some day, you'll do it.
  
• Going to the doctor, dentist, working out - suddenly you want to to take better care of yourself.  To set a good example and to make sure you'll be around for a long time.
• Get a good night's sleep? Forget about it!
• You will become something of a hypocrite. Maybe you were a rebel in your younger years. Maybe your friends have crazy lifestyles. That's all fine, but it will not be fine for your child to do those things!



I try not to squeeze too hard.

• I do a lot of my work at home.  Those moments of uninterrupted concentration are OVER.  Ditto for taking a relaxing shower.
  
• Cuddling your child in your arms is the epitome of bliss.  I thought I was like Elmyra Duff from Tiny Toon Adventures when it came to cats: "I'm gonna hug you and kiss you and love you forever." It's way worse with my baby!
  
• You will make every effort to be a better person.
  
• Enjoy that movie.  It's going to be a long time before you watch another one all the way through.  You'll be too busy entertaining the little person, or stopping him or her from screaming.  If it's nighttime you will fall asleep after five minutes due to sheer exhaustion.
  
• You, or your partner, will never come first again.  And you'll be 100% okay with that.

Parents, what else would you add to the list?  Soon-to-be parents: Congratulations and savor these days!

It's My Daughter's Party and I'll Plan How I Want To

Now that the election is over, we can all happily move forward onto other events. Like fall/winter holidays and birthdays.

 

Emmie's first birthday is coming up! I can't believe how quickly it came. What everyone says about time flying and cherishing moments is totally true. We are really excited for this milestone, as parents, but it's also been the source of some hand-wringing and debate.

 

When we decided to move in here, I hoped it would be for a short time, a few months.  I knew in reality it would take a while to get back on track and start making progress.  I knew we'd be here over Emmie's first birthday.

 

I am a new parent.  I want to fully experience all the new parent joys, fears, everything.  I want to do things on my own.  I am trying to retain my independence while living with my husband's parents.

 

Many new parents struggle with setting boundaries for the new grandparents.  My friend Denny's mom took his daughter for her first haircut - without asking.  Before moving in here was ever a thought, I think before Emmie was even born, Bruce's mom bought our baby a Halloween costume.  We had to tell her that Emmie could wear the costume the week of Halloween, but on the actual holiday our daughter would wear something we picked for her.  The pleasure of the occasion was deflated slightly.

 

It can't be helped; grandparents are so gleeful to be grandparents.  Sometimes they cross the line, probably due to thoughtlessness and eagerness more than anything.

 

Most first birthday parties I have ever been to are held at the family's home.  Babies are fickle creatures and their moods change quickly.  They might cry or scream.  They might need a nap.  They will definitely make a mess, smash the birthday cake.  It's best to keep them in the environment they're most used to.  It was sad to me that we don't have a home of our own to throw Emmie's party.  It depressed me to think of her pictures someday, with someone else's dining room table or guests sitting on someone else's couch.  "That's your grandparents' house," I'd say to an older Emmie.  "We didn't move into this house until later."

 

I know, I know - how silly! None of that stuff matters.  What really matters is that we're all healthy and alive and love each other, et cetera et cetera.  But put yourself in my place.  What you wouldn't see in the pictures is that when I sat down to write the guest list, Bruce's mom was saying "Don't forget Uncle so-and-so.  We have to invite him." And when Bruce and I were talking about food options, Bruce's mom would say, "You-know-who's food at her daughter's party was delicious, you should order from there." And when we went to bring out the cake, Bruce's mom would be the one to put in the candles before we got a chance.  And I would silently seethe.  Or so it goes in my mind.

 

Early on we tried to avoid this by making the choice to have Emmie's birthday party somewhere neutral, like a pizza place.  We informed Bruce's mom and she insisted, "That's fine, but you are more than welcome to have it here."  Months went by and she made plans to go away on vacation until right before the big day. 

 

As it starts to get closer, the thought of spending so much more money to rent a room somewhere seems wasteful.  Then I was going through old photos and came across ones from our engagement party, which Bruce's parents had for us here.  Suddenly my silliness was really apparent.  That party was so nice and fun and cozy.  Why couldn't we have Emmie's party here after all? We would just have to lay down the law.

 

The other day we let Bruce's mom know of our change in plans (his dad is fine with whatever).  A shadow passed across her face.  "That's fine," she said thoughtfully.  "But I feel bad; I won't be here to help."

 

"That's okay, Mom," Bruce replied.  "Thanks, but we don't want any help! We will do everything ourselves.  Don't worry."

 

"Well..." She hesitated.

 

"MOM.  It's okay.  We want to do this on our own," Bruce asserted.  I nodded heartily in agreement. 

 

She got the point.

 

We'll see what happens the day of the party.  We will have to remain firm.  I'm going to have to try not to be so sensitive and headstrong.  At least now I've come to the conclusion that when Emmie and I are looking at those pictures together, she will just see that she's always been surrounded by family who loves her.  It doesn't matter where. 

 

I get the point, now, too.

I Voted

It's bad; Bruce and I never registered to vote in his parents' precinct. This was partly due to refusal to admit we officially live here, partly because we didn't want to have to pay for new IDs at the DMV, and partly from laziness.

I come from a fervently political family, however, and it's important for me to cast my ballot. The way I see it, you can't complain if you don't perform your citizen's duty. Bruce's family, on the other hand, has never really been interested in politics until the past few elections. He's much more laid back about it than I am, though his interest grows over time.

Someday I might write a post on my nerdy old-school method
of keeping track of bills

Since we missed the deadline, I investigated Grace Period Voting.  There is a certain amount of time before actual Voting Day that you can go down to the local courthouse, or designated polling place, and simultaneously register and vote.  Last week Bruce and I quickly ran over after he got home from work.  Since we didn't have any official documents with this new address on them, we brought our drivers licenses, social security cards, and a bill in each of our names sent here in the mail.  We filled out a few forms, and went back to the polls.

Afterwards, Bruce and I both felt gratified.  We did our part.  Not just for the Presidential election, but for all the state and city ones.  They all matter.

If you haven't already done so, please do your part and vote tomorrow on Election Day.  This country was founded on the belief that every individual can make a difference.  No matter what my personal situation is, in this country I have the opportunity to change it.  We all do.  It's a right we should never take for granted.

The Road to New Wheels: Finance Friday IV

We've almost had the [new] car for a week and really, my daily routine hasn't changed.  I am usually home with the baby.  Knowing that we can leave anytime, however, has a huge impact on my overall attitude.

It was quite a process for us to get to this point.  Buying a car was a major financial decision.  Especially since we never forget that we are living here to improve our situation and buy a house of our own someday.

When the car that Bruce's aunt gave us broke down, we knew we'd have to get a different one.  Bruce's dad let me drive his car twice a week to work in the meantime.  Then the broken car got hit and damaged while it was sitting out on the street.  The morning after the police knocked on our door, Bruce's father shocked us with an ultimatum.  His car's 'check engine' light had turned on when he was driving one day.  He didn't want me using his car for much longer.  We were told to buy our own car and "stop procrastinating."

I was furious.  We had not been procrastinating.  Bruce calmly explained to his father that while it was within his right to ask us to stop using his car, buying a car was a decision between Bruce and me.  It was not Bruce's father's business when and if we purchased a car.  I was so proud of my husband when he said that.  I started waking up extra early, driving Bruce to work in our one car, and then waiting for school to open so that we wouldn't have to rely on Bruce's father's car anymore.

The thing is, we had been researching and car shopping since the old one broke.  We had to come to terms with making such a large purchase.  Since we didn't have cash to pay for the car outright, we would have to finance it.  After paying off a few bills, and feeling slight relief, the last thing I wanted to do was add on more debt.  I needed to put together a budget to see if we could continue to pay down our debt with the additional expense.  Still, it is a concern that our debt-to-income ratio is again too great with this car loan.

There were also many choices for us to make.  New or used?  Allegedly, car dealerships are desperate nowadays to sell cars, therefore they are offering extremely low (or no) interest rates.  They are throwing in bonuses like cash back and extended warranties.  In contrast, used cars are more in demand and typically have higher interest rates.  What about leasing?  Bruce has a cousin who works in the auto industry, and he suggested we lease.  Right now, leased cars have very low monthly payments.  However, like renting an apartment, your money is not being put towards ownership.  You have to return it; it's not yours to sell later.

We consulted a lot of car and finance books, websites, and blogs such as See Debt Run's article and decided to purchase a reputably safe car, two or three years old, with low mileage.  Experts seem to agree that this is a wise choice; you avoid paying the markup for a new car while retaining many new-car features.  Ideally, ours would be a car that only had one previous owner like a returned lease vehicle, no accidents, with a couple years of warranty left.  Of course, the payments would need to be within our budget.  We scoured every local dealership's pre-owned inventory online.

We picked a make and model and narrowed down a few potential cars.  We went and test drove and finally found the right one.  It was everything we had been looking for!  I was worried about how little we'd get as a trade-in for the old car, but surprisingly we got more than we'd hoped for it!  We talked the dealers down on the price, negotiated a low interest rate, and even got them to throw in new floormats.  The payments are reasonable and it even has a great warranty.

Our time and hard work paid off.  At the dealership we were well informed, and thus, unable to be intimidated.  The finance guy actually laughed and said, "You two make a good team.  You're the numbers man and she's all about the details."  We knew what we wanted and we held out for it.  I'm actually amazed at how smoothly it went!

When the sale was finalized, Bruce and I separately drove the new car and the other one back home.  Bruce's parents were out.  Bruce installed the car seat base for the baby while I ordered a pizza.  Then the three of us went for our first ride together in the new car.  Just us - just perfect.

It's My Vehicle, Baby

It takes me anywhere I want to go!

Oh my gosh, I'm so happy right now.  We got a car! Freeeeeedom!!! Wheeeeee!!!

Universal Repairs

Bruce and I got into a huge fight.

I don't remember what it was about.  Tensions have been high in the house, what with the cat pee situation, the smashed car situation, and moodiness from all parties involved.  Bruce has a health condition that can be triggered by stress that he has been dealing that, too.  It makes him grouchy.  And that makes me upset and sensitive.

So the other day we offered to pick up Mexican food for dinner for everyone.  Bruce's parents watched the baby and the two of us went.  Alone time is so rare for us.  You know those couples you see arguing in public? They might live with their in-laws.  When we are having a couple's quarrel, we don't even feel comfortable going behind closed doors.  The walls are thin around here.  When I really am about to explode I've even typed my thoughts onto my cell phone and shown them to Bruce, rather than risk being overheard by his parents.  It's so frustrating.  Not being able to vocalize your true feelings can really build up pressure.

We got in the car, and that's when everything came spilling out.  Before we arrived at the burrito place I was almost in tears.  We continued our fight inside, after we ordered, quietly.  Yeah, we were that couple.

On the drive back things got worse.  I was so pissed.  I felt like Bruce just didn't understand (whatever it was).  Bruce was sick and tired of everything.  As we pulled into the driveway, I thought about going in and how I would have to wipe my tears, put a fake smile on my face, and have a miserable meal at the table with his parents.  I just couldn't do it.  Not that time.

I refused to go in.  Eventually, Bruce stopped trying to persuade me and stomped off, bag of food in hand.  I didn't care.  I got behind the wheel, turned the key, put in an Ani DiFranco CD, and reversed out of there.

The sun was starting to set and I headed west, the autumn leaves on the trees glowing brightly in the rays.  I felt like a teenager again, back in my hometown, driving around to escape my family and calm my raging emotions. 

After several songs of me singing loudly along, I found myself on the other side of town with a fairly empty gas tank.  I stopped and filled up.  I didn't feel so bad anymore.  Not that I wanted to go back and see everyone.  I decided to go home the roundabout way.  I figured that would give enough time for Bruce's parents to finish up eating and retire to the couch.  I could come in, sit down, and consume my reheated burrito without much awkwardness.

The first thing I noticed was that the car's heat didn't seem to be on.  The air blowing in at full blast - that's the only way the air/heat works - was mild, even though I had the dial turned to the red section.  Then something smelled funny.  That prompted me to look at the temperature gauge.  Normally between cold and hot, it was now all the way up.  Shit.  The car was overheating.

I parked in a close Walgreens lot.  I don't know a lot about cars (though I did recently read an auto repair book), but my brother does.  So I called him as I walked around the store.  I still didn't want to talk to Bruce.  My brother wasn't able to come help me, though, so I had to.

Bruce showed up quickly in his dad's car.  He didn't say much and neither did I.  He opened the hood of the car, checked around, and headed into the store.  He came out with some coolant, poured some in.  He told me he would drive our car, and I would follow him in the other.

We drove about five minutes before he pulled over again.  While I waited, he checked under the hood.  It was completely dark outside by now and he had to use the flashlight app on his phone.  He added more coolant.  We clearly had a leak.  Unbelievable.  How much would this cost us?!  Fortune was not on our side.  We now had two broken cars.

Conveniently, the body shop we trust was nearby.  We dropped the keys into the nightbox and left the car there.  We were both depressed by this time.  The fight had been forgotten. 

The ailment Bruce has? He recently went to the doctor and was prescribed medicine for it.  On the way home, both of us in his dad's car, we stopped by the store.  This particular mega-grocery offers coupons of $20 off your next purchase when you start a new prescription there.  The coupons print out after you pay in line.  But I didn't have one.  I hated the thought of missing out on a free $20.  So you know what we did?  This is embarrassing to admit, but we walked up and down the checkout aisles looking to see if anyone had left one behind.  Nothing.

Utterly dejected, we headed towards the pharmacy.  Suddenly, Bruce stopped.  He walked towards where the DVD and toy machines are.  He picked up a piece of paper.

A coupon!

I'm not kidding you.  I was ridiculously overjoyed at saving that little bit of money.  In that moment, I could see so clearly.  It was all a sign: YOU NEED BRUCE.  Not in a dependent, sappy, nauseating Jerry Maguire "you complete me" kind of way.  In a committed, partnership, 'you took vows and don't you forget it' kind of way.  I tried to go out on my own and the damn universe made him rescue me.  Even if I had remembered the information from the auto repair manual, someone would've needed to come get me when it was plain that the car's anti-freeze was leaking.  And surely I would have never seen that coupon.

We went home, together.  Bruce's parents didn't ask too many questions, for which I was thankful.  The auto shop called in the morning and the repairs weren't that expensive.  Phew!  Actually, we were able to pay in cash.  That's new for us; normally we'd have to put it on a credit card.  That in itself is really satisfying.

Bruce and I are better now.  I don't think that the tension or stilted communication will ease up while we live here.  We're going to continue to have issues, and it will still be hard to talk about them at home.  I do think, though, that we will handle them as they occur knowing that in the long run, we will be stronger.

After all, we have the universe on our side.

Marriage Advice

Ever since I was a little girl, I have been reading the advice columnists in the newspaper.  It's because I always had to be reading something at breakfast.  First, it was the back of the cereal box. Then, the comics in the paper.  Next to the comics are the advice columns.  I credit them towards the cultivation of a major portion of my manners and behaviors.

Lately, for obvious reasons, I really home in on topics regarding in-laws.  This Ask Amy column from today is every woman's nightmare.  I remember when I was getting married, reading all the wedding chat forums where the brides-to-be complained about their fiancé's mother.  I've always counted myself as lucky to have such a great relationship with my mother-in-law.

I'm not going to lie, living with her has tested my patience a few times.  I did worry that there would be a conflict between her and me for Bruce's attention.  I predicted that she would resume her natural inclination to take care of him, when the role now belongs to me.  Those things have happened, and I'm sure they'll continue.  I've actually had to remind him on one occasion, "You are married to me, not your mother".  He knows, but it's difficult for him to have his worlds collide like this.

So I love Amy's advice here that "the marriage needs to be at the center."  This rule should apply to all couples, regardless of how close to or how far from their in-laws they live.  This rule should be remembered during the angriest times and the happiest times.

Everyone should have a sign in the home where they can see those words daily.  I'm thinking about making one for our room!

I Will Get By

It's Tuesday Tunes Day!

Today's selection is one of my new favorites, the Grateful Dead's "Touch of Grey". Unlike my friends, I was never really into this band or Phish, another touring band famous for its tie-dyed followers.  In our late teens and early twenties, Bruce was one of those people who would go to all the outdoor concerts.  I'm familiar with this song because it was the Grateful Dead's only commercial success, and it gets played on the radio pretty frequently.

It wasn't until recently, when I karaoked this with Jeanette, that I paid attention to the meaning.  It's a really sweet song about how life can be rough, but we must always forge ahead.

Because I like this song, Bruce now teases me and calls me a secret hippie.  Maybe I am!

Here's a version with the lyrics:

Open Up, It's the Police

Midnight or so last night we were home, having some drinks with Bruce's sister, when the doorbell rang.  Bruce's parents were in bed, asleep.

I could see the flashing lights through the window as I entered the front hallway.

Beer in hand, I peered out the curtains to see a police officer standing on the porch.

This could not be good.

When I opened the door and greeted the officer, I could see past him onto the street, where one of our cars is parked.

It was smashed.  All over the pavement, pieces of it sparkled in the headlights of the police car.

The officer told us he was patrolling the neighborhood when he noticed the damage.  Our car had been hit from behind, and apparently the offender took off.  He or she was probably drunk and/or texting.

That's the car we haven't been driving, because the mechanics told us it was unsafe.  The one we got from Bruce's aunt.  The one we were planning on trading in when we bought a new car.

The car only has liability insurance.  Because it was hit-and-run, no one else's insurance will pay us.  We will not be receiving any money for damages.

As little as that car was worth, it was at least cosmetically intact.  Now, it's broken on the inside and out.  It's not very likely that it will help us out towards a new car purchase anymore.

I tell you, some days I have to focus so hard on the positive, because life certainly can hand you some crappy surprises.

Tuesday Tunes Day

Here's a fun Annie fact: I always have a song in my head.  And I am almost always singing. 

I sing to the baby constantly.  I hum when I do dishes.  You may have driven up next to me and seen me crooning along to the radio like I was practicing for American Idol.

When we were discussing moving in with Bruce's parents I warned them: "Just to let you know, I sing all the time."

I wouldn't call myself a music aficionado (That's Bruce - he's totally into the music scene).  I like all kinds of music.  But I mostly listen to pop music, which isn't exactly considered high culture.  Music is a huge part of my life, however.  You may have noticed that many of my blog post titles are influenced by songs.

Because of this, I have decided to share some tunes with you that I feel are particularly poignant to our living-with-the-in-laws situation.  Let's call this Tuesday Tunes Day (I know, today is Wednesday! Well, from now on they'll be on Tuesdays).

A while back, Bruce made me this amazing mixed CD.  (Aw, remember the 90's when we all did that?)  Some of the songs will be from there.  This first one is - George Harrison's "Got My Mind Set on You".  The lyrics could not be more apropos.

Enjoy!

I got my mind set on you

But it's gonna take money
A whole lotta spending money
It's gonna take plenty of money
To do it right child

It's gonna take time
A whole lot of precious time
It's gonna take patience and time
To do it, to do it, to do it, to do it, to do it,
To do it right child

Oh, for Progress' Sake: Finance Friday III

I was on the phone with my friend, Jeanette, who was inquiring what we're going to do about Minnie the cat. We are NOT getting rid of her.  I told my friend that even though hearing Minnie cry incessantly in the basement is heart-wrenching, I have to remember the one who matters the most is our daughter, Emmie.

We're doing this for her.

The good news is, despite the drama, we are moving right along with paying down our debt.

Today I paid the bills and updated our debt spreadsheet.  I every time I update it, I add a new column for the date and enter in the new balance totals for each item.

We've paid off 14% of our debt in the past month! Most of it was from pulling out my old 401(k), but still.  That's better than we did in the whole year from 2010-2011.

Two beautiful words in the English language: "Paid off"

Now that I am back to work, we are finally able to pay our bills and breathe a little easier when we see how much money is left.  We are paying a significant sum towards our debt with each paycheck.  We've eliminated three bills!  Since we are going from smallest to largest, the debt snowball should start rolling faster now.

The positive results really encourage us to persevere.

I keep telling myself, when this is over, it won't have seemed that bad.  It's like a break-up; once you move on, it doesn't hurt anymore.

Hopefully Minnie can put this behind her, too.

Indefinite Imprisonment

Last night my mother-in-law took the third cat of the house to the vet. While there, she explained the situation between Minnie and Sasha. According to my MIL, the vet said it will never get better until one of the cats is gone.

I am in utter turmoil. My stomach keeps churning. I feel terrible. I know she's just a cat, but Minnie is a part of my little family. Living here is supposed to be temporary, but could still be lengthy - possibly over a year. We firmly intend for Minnie to be the fourth member of the home we will someday own.

I hate to fail at my endeavors. If we moved out now, we may not get approved for a mortgage, because I wasn't working most of this year. We could rent, but then we'd never be better off.

In the meantime, Minnie is locked in the basement. The door is just beyond the kitchen and living room, so she hears us and meows and meows to be let out. It's just awful.

I try to bring her upstairs during the day, worried all the while that she will pee somewhere else. When she's out with us, she purrs like there's no tomorrow.  When I put her back, she gazes forlornly at me while I shut the door.

This is breaking Bruce and I. Our emotions are all over the place because of this.  What should we do?  Are we overreacting?

Minnie hides out to avoid returning to jail.

Animal House

Shit has really hit the fan lately.  Or rather, it's hit the floor.

One issue we've been having is that Minnie the cat keeps relieving herself on the carpeted stairs landing.  Cats are notoriously finicky animals and the way they deal with displeasure is to go outside of their litter box.  This must be what Minnie is doing, because in the past year the poor cat has been through the following:

1. A baby was born and stole the attention away.
2. Minnie was moved into a strange house with two other cats.
3. One of the cats has terrorized her from the start.
4. Routines like meal time have been changed, not to mention her type of cat litter and food.
5. Her owners are stressed out.

From what I've been reading, any one of these is a major source of anxiety for a cat.  So no one blames her for how she's been acting.  The problem is, the smell of cat urine is nearly impossible to remove.  It could ruin Bruce's parents' house.

We've tried everything.  We've moved her litter box all over the house, to keep Minnie away from the cat that torments her.  Bruce's mom bought some miracle spray online that claimed it would make cats feel happy (wow, can't believe that didn't work!).  We've put tin foil down on the stairs because allegedly cats hate it.  We've tried giving Minnie a lot of attention and positively encouraging her to go in her litter box.  Nothing has worked.

Before work last week, Bruce came downstairs and said "Good morning" to his folks.  His mother didn't respond. Bruce knew right away that the cat must have done it again.  The way his mother so chillingly received him ruffled his feathers, however.

After some prodding, Bruce's mom stated, "This can't happen anymore."

Groggy and frustrated, Bruce burst out, "Fine! Then we'll move out!"

I spent all day convincing Bruce that we have to keep living here if we want to fix our future.  As much as I would love to, if we moved out now we'd probably be making ends meet for the rest of our lives.  There has to be another solution.

The problem lies in a lack of communication and handling the situation badly. Bruce's mom is mainly exasperated because she feels that she is the one always cleaning up Minnie's mess. She doesn't know about the times that Bruce has cleaned, because he doesn't say anything. He doesn't want to distress his parents further.

And what about me? Well, on the days I'm not working in the morning, I sleep until the baby wakes up. Usually 7:30 or 8. Then I change her and feed her. It can be hours after the cat has done her business before we venture downstairs. Someone's already taken care of it. Some days I don't even know it happened.

By the time Bruce got home from work, he had calmed down.  So had his mom.  He apologized, and explained that she needed to talk to him about issues, instead of being dramatic and giving him the cold shoulder.  She apologized, too.

While this was happening, I could tell that Bruce's dad was miffed about something. He was silent for a while.  Then, when everything was getting normal again he blurted, "You know, Bruce, you could help things by cleaning up once in a while and not always letting your mother do it."

I couldn't take it anymore.  That's when I yelled.  "I would clean it up, but I don't even know it's happening! I don't hear about any of this until afterwards!  You can't clean it up without anyone knowing and then be mad when no one else cleans it up! Why don't you just wake me up or knock on my door if you want me to take care of it?!  I have no problem cleaning it up; she's our cat!"

I've never raised my voice to them.  I was shaking.  Everyone looked at me, stunned for a moment.  Bruce's dad said softly, "No, Annie.  We wouldn't want to wake you up. We're just upset, that's all."

"We all are," Bruce admitted.

Later, Bruce and I discussed what happened.  "Do you think it was bad when I yelled at them?" I asked, worried.

"You yelled at them?" He blinked, looking confused.  Then he laughed.  "Oh, Annie! You yelling at people is like a mouse getting mad.  You think you're making a lot of noise, but you're not.  It didn't seem like you were yelling at all.  You were just being sensible."

In my head, I was a lion.  I guess I'm not as ferocious as I'd like to be.

Things remained tense for several days.  Bruce's mother banished Minnie to the basement.  She has to stay in there until she starts using the litter box down there and hopefully works things out with the other cat, Sasha.  This really pisses me off, but I don't see an alternative.  Part of me secretly hopes Minnie realizes she has claws and Sasha doesn't.  I figure that'll fix the bully.

If we had our own house, this wouldn't be happening.  Our cat wouldn't be destroying my in-laws' home and we wouldn't all be fighting.  But we do live here.  And I try to remember that even though they're charging us rent, Bruce's parents are still helping us.  We are living under their roof.

The only way to get out of this with our relationships intact is by communicating effectively.  By not letting our emotions get the best of us.  We can't be like animals, hissing and growling.

We're all going to have to find a way to get along, without using our claws.

When Everything Seems Out of Control

UPDATE: Oops, I did it anyway. (8:32 pm)