Trick-or-Treating

Little monkey

Eve is upon us and the time is now
To put on your costume and hit the town
Grab your sack to be filled with sweets
Tonight many neighbors you will meet
When you ring the doorbell, they will appear
"Trick-or-treat" you'll call, at the candy you'll peer
While the grownups marvel at your guise
Handfuls of goodies they will supply
"Thank you," you should be sure to say
As you turn to make your way
And stroll down the street's spooky scene
Amid the echoes of "Happy Halloween!

Our "haunted" house

Today in Illinois we woke up to dark skies and pouring rain - not a good sign for outdoor holiday activities. By the afternoon, though, the rain went away, and we were able to enjoy the first Halloween in our new neighborhood!  

Initially, Emmie didn't quite understand why kids were ringing the doorbell, and I was giving them candy. However, she loved going out in her monkey costume and was amazed by all the other dressed-up children.  At more than half of the houses she declared, "Trick-or-Treat!"  She was a little shy, but she did say "thank you" to everybody.  She got tons of compliments on her costume and plenty of candy (most of which Bruce and I will be eating).  We also met a lot of our neighbors.  It was a fun night for us all!

We wish you a happy, safe Halloween!

From One Generation to the Next

The last time I went to my parents' house, they gave me a huge box of my old stuff to take home.  I guess now that I have my own attic and basement I should get my things out of theirs!

Anyways, I've always been a pack rat.  I can attach sentimentality to just about anything.  I save greeting cards and old wall calendars.  I have a hard time throwing items away.  Everything means something to me; everything has a story to tell.

This turned out to be a good thing, because now I have a child to give new life to the belongings I saved.  Inside the box was a tall stack of my old record books.  Do you remember those? They were illustrated children's books with a sleeve in back to hold a record.  I would put the record on my Fisher Price record player and hear the story while looking at the pictures and reading along.  If I can find that record player (which I know I kept) Emmie can enjoy those same stories someday!

Emmie looks at one of my old books in her PJs. She's all about the alphabet right now.

Packed away were also some ceramic cat figurines (which Bruce has emphatically announced will not be displayed in our house), seashells, and toys.  The best toy in the box was my Little Professor calculator game!  Oh boy, as soon as I saw it I was small again, swinging my feet in the backseat of my parents' blue Dodge station wagon, passing the time on some road trip.  The memories...

I've always imagined that when she's a bit older, Emmie will get a kick out of some of these things.  Some I should probably give or throw away.  But some of them can be shared, a way to connect with her, to tell her stories of my youth and the way life was in the past.  That Little Professor is like the iPhone of 30 years ago!

In many cases, these artifacts are symbols.  Their meaning surpasses their usefulness or functionality.  They represent days gone by, when I was young.  The times spent with my brother and parents, before my adult independence, marriage, and motherhood.

I want my children to know who I am.  I read an article in the New York Times that the happiest, healthiest children had a clear understanding of their family narrative.  Knowing where one has come from develops a strong sense of self.

I hope that Emmie will like to hear about my life and her father's life before her.  I hope she will want to know about her grandparents' lives, her uncle's and aunt's, her family history going back to WWII, and even further to ancestors in Italy, Ireland, Germany, and China.  I hope she is proud of the strong individuals who worked hard to create the life she now has.  I hope she listens to the stories we will tell her, the fun ones and difficult ones alike, and they help to shape her identity.

I hope she will be proud of her heritage and take the past to heart.

Come in from the Cold

Winter rushes at Fall here in the Midwest like it's 4th down with a yard to go.  This past week the meteorologists have been issuing Frost Warnings.  The temperature at night drops down to freezing.  They're saying we might even get a snow flurry today.

We've taken out our coats, scarves, boots, and turned on the heat.  Bruce had an HVAC guy come out to clean and check our furnace.  So far, the old contraption's still alive and kicking.  The repairman was amazed.

While we're toasty indoors, the plants outside were braving the elements. I'm still new to this whole gardening thing, but I can't stand to see the plants that I nurtured all summer just wither away.  I brought them in from the cold to save them from sudden death.

The geraniums take a drink at the kitchen sink.

Bruce made this space in the basement for my mint and Thai basil.

Maybe they won't survive indoors either, but I have to try!  Does any one have advice for how to keep these beauties alive?

You Better Work

Whether it's Ru Paul or Britney, the message is the same: the only way to achieve your goals is by working towards them.

Today, I start another night class.  We are thankful for this, because the additional income can help get us back on track.  We can hopefully put some away for emergencies and pay down some debt.

Furthermore, I got a call last week from my former manager at the purse store, asking if I wanted to return for the holidays.  She might as well have said, "Would you like your fabulous discount back again?" because that's what I heard on the voicemail.  I immediately started dreaming about the Christmas present I could buy myself!  Not to mention my female family members, who also love that brand.

Bruce knows me too well and viewed this opportunity skeptically.  He remembered that last year I brought home my earnings in the form of handbags.  He wasn't really on board with me going back there again this year.

Even though my initial reaction was regarding my discount, I was also considering that the store pays fairly well for retail, and I had fun working there.  In the winter, between semesters, I go a month without pay.  Instead of scraping by, relying solely on Bruce's income during the holidays, I could be contributing something.  Something is better than nothing!  Last year when we were living with Bruce's parents, I might have sought comfort in a little retail therapy, even though we were saving to buy a house.  This year, we have the house and new meaningful goals.  My priorities are in order.  I swear.

Eventually, I convinced Bruce.  Practicality won out, and the extra money was an offer we couldn't refuse.  I contacted the store managers to let them know my availability.  They were fine with my schedule, so I applied.  I anticipate that I'll be employed there again in a couple months.  I'm excited, but I'm also dreading the unpredictable schedule of working retail.

Bruce and I both came from families where our parents worked opposite shifts.  I remember my father coming home late in the night from the machine shop.  I also remember the times when my father woke us up, bundled us into our coats and drove us sleepy kids to pick up my mom from her 2nd shift at the hospital.  For many years, Bruce's dad worked overnights. Bruce and his sister stayed with their grandparents while his mom worked evenings.  That's how life was.

Truthfully, I'm not looking forward to working weekends or holidays like Christmas Eve and New Year's Day. Thank goodness the mall is closed on Christmas.  It sucks to be on a different timetable than Bruce - even during the school year.  The days when the three of us are together as a family are precious.  But in the long run, it's a small sacrifice to make for a better life overall.  Now that we have the house, we need to get out of debt and build up our savings.  

I've said it before, and I'll keep saying it to myself, again and again.  The American dream takes work.

Changing Seasons

Fall is officially here! We put a giant orange pumpkin on our stoop next to our pot of purple mums.  The yard is filled with crunchy leaves.  We rake them into piles, and Emmie jumps in them.

In my last post I vowed to get off my lazy arse and stop taking naps, and I did it! Most days I've been getting up before Emmie and showering.  That helps me feel fresh and ready to face the day.  When she goes down for naps, I work.  I've been much more productive than usual.  It only took a couple days to cast off the anchor of exhaustion that usually weighs me down in the afternoon.  There was one witching hour where I was inexplicably wide awake, but for the most part, I've been sleeping more soundly at night, too.
With the weather getting colder, it's become necessary to get the clothes dryer hooked up.  There have been fewer warm, dry days where I can wash the laundry and hang it outside.  It's kind of funny: on nice days, my first thought is always, "I should do laundry."  Bruce tried to hook the dryer up one day a few weeks ago, but the gas line was capped.  He needed a pipe wrench to get it off, and we don't have one.  His plan was to borrow one from a coworker.

On Friday, my brother came over to babysit Emmie while I went to a work meeting.  That was the first time anyone has watched Emmie in our new home! It was fantastic.  Instead of waking up Emmie from her nap, packing up her stuff, getting her dressed, driving 40 minutes to my folks' house and then 40 minutes to work, I was able to walk out my front door, get in the car, and go.  Emmie was sleeping, so all my brother had to do was chill and watch the monitor.  I got to sip free Starbucks and bottled water at a conference table and wax intellectual in an adult setting.  It was rejuvenating.

When I got home, Bruce was off work and had picked up a pizza for all of us.  He informed me that he and my brother had fixed the dryer! My brother brought my father's tools to take care of it.  I am so lucky to have such a helpful brother!

Having a dryer is a huge convenience.  To tell you the truth, hanging clothes on the line is cumbersome.  Sure, the laundry looked all nostalgic out there, blowing in the wind, but it had its unpleasantness, too.  For one: bugs.  Somedays I'd have to brush the clothesline with a small broom, because spiders spin webs across it.  Bruce said one evening he went out to get the clothes and he saw the largest spider he's ever seen in his life.  Then we'd have to shake all the clothes before we dropped them into the basket, in case little bugs were crawling on them, to avoid bringing creepy crawlies into the house.  Ew!

On top of that, air-drying clothes is one thing, but air-drying towels is another.  Whereas clothes get crisp like they're dry cleaned and starched, towels get crunchy and hard.  No one wants to step out of the shower and grab a rough, scratchy towel.  I can't wait to have soft, fluffy towels again!

I came home from work yesterday, and the house was warm and smelled like dryer sheets.  Mmm.

With the season change, I've started to get really excited for the holidays!  Decorating my own house has been so special.  We only have a few fall/Halloween decorations, but seeing them out fills me with joy.  Emmie is fascinated by all the 'punkins'.

But what I'm super excited for is Christmas! The other day we got our "New Home" ornament. I can't express what that means to me.  I CANNOT WAIT to put up our tree, right by the front window.  I can't wait to show Emmie all our ornaments and stockings and our Nativity scene.  Remember, last year I didn't get to put up our decorations, except for the little pink tree in Emmie's room at my in-laws' house.  The year before, she was only two days old on Christmas.  We brought her home from the hospital in the early afternoon, and within  minutes our little rental townhouse was full of extended family.

This will be our first Christmas in our own home, just the three of us, waking up to see all Santa's surprises.

Waking Up from the Trance

I realize I've spent a lot of words on this blog extolling the pleasures of our new life as homeowners.  Don't get me wrong: in contrast to living with my in-laws, knowing how we struggled to get to this place, it's a dream come true.

But I'm not perfect.  My life isn't perfect.  It isn't perfect here, by any means.

I've been feeling a nagging discontent in my subconsciousness for quite some time.  On a daily basis, I am happy being a work-at-home-mom.  My marriage is good.  But I've been feeling off, like I'm in a trance.

I took a hard look at my typical day, and there is, quite apparently, room for improvement.  Some of my ways are bringing me down.

Usually I wake up at the same time as Emmie, around 8-ish.  For many moms, it's unheard of to sleep in this long!  We're really lucky that Emmie has always been such a sound sleeper.  I hear her start to coo and play with her stuffed animals in her crib, so I get up and go get her.  We have breakfast and then watch an hour of TV - usually Sesame Street.  Then we go out in the yard, run errands, whatever for a couple hours until lunchtime.  We eat, and she goes down for her nap.

And so do I.

This is where I run into trouble.  I have always enjoyed reading in bed since I was a little girl.  When we lived with Bruce's parents, I got into a bad habit.  Seeing that Bruce's dad was always downstairs watching TV, I would spend the time during Emmie's naps in our bedroom to have a little privacy.  My recliner was in there, so sometimes I would sit and answer emails on my laptop, write this blog, or work.  Pretty often, however, I lay in bed and watched TV.  Or read. Or napped.

Looking back on my time there, it's clear how depressed I actually was.  I was like a slug for a year.  I didn't do anything.  I had all these goals, and very few of them got accomplished.  I never lost the baby weight; I didn't feel comfortable exercising on the creaky floors with Bruce's dad beneath them.  I didn't have a car much of the time we were there, but even when I did, I barely ever went anywhere.  I was a self-imposed prisoner.

It's calling to me right now.

Now that we're here, I find myself following the same routine.  Emmie goes to her room, so do I.  I usually end up falling asleep and don't get anything done.  Then at night I toss and turn, sleeping at most a handful of hours.  The cycle keeps repeating; with so little shuteye, I'm exhausted by nap time.

The sloth stops now.  I have to kick this.  I need to get motivated.  I created a new rule: no bed during the day.  I've read that spending time in bed when not sleeping can confuse the body.  That's also probably why I have trouble at night.

I'm also considering setting the alarm again.  Every ounce of my being, after years of walking to the the school bus at dawn or schlepping the 9-to-5 (or 6-2:30), screams, "Why?! WHY?!!!!"  But I think if I start waking up before Emmie, taking a shower and drinking a cup of coffee by myself, I might be more productive.  Experts also recommend waking up and going to bed at the same time every day for better sleep cycles.

Right now, I'm watching my daughter on the video monitor, curled up on her side, tucked under her blankie and napping peacefully.  My eyes are heavy, but I refuse to submit to the sandman.  I've got work to do.  Who knows?  Maybe I'll even workout.

I can do whatever I want.  I have the house to myself.  

It's a new dawn.