Suburban Bliss:: Birth Control Via The Written Word

Moving. 2009 Edition

Last year as we passed into 2008 I was terrified of leaving 2007 behind. I still think 2007 was one of those high water marks for me. Even with the part where I nearly died trying to remove wall paper from the kitchen walls and spent a couple of weeks using a port-a-john in the driveway while we remodeled the bathroom of the old house. We struggled and succeeded, it was a year of working hard and reaching goals. It felt good.

In 2008 we've been in this great place and almost every day looked around and been happy, thrilled even, with where we are.

Back in September our financial landscape changed a great deal and after looking around at comparable housing in our area, we realized this house is both too much for our revised budget and too much for what it is (even with that lovely water feature in the basement....some might call it flooding. Our landlord calls it "a pool"!) in this housing market. (Plus our landlord is what one might call "delusional".)

Additionally, as I mentioned this week, I have a bigger move in mind and we have to make some cuts around here to make that happen. A move is necessary.

We found a house this week, it's a perfectly lovely home. With all the same 1920's charm we loved in our last house with a new kitchen, a beautiful oak banister and basement we can use as a room for the kid's crap. It's smaller than where we live now, but I've always known this house was bigger than we needed and if we move to a city like Portland we'll probably have to live in something smaller anyway. It's good not to get used to more space.

There's plenty of room to entertain, a great deck in back, and a mudroom off the porch. It's actually in the town of Royal Oak, where we can walk a block to shop and go to dinner. There's a park across the street and our new potential (we haven't signed anything yet) landlords tell us there are a few kids on our block. So it's not bleak, we're not moving to a van down by the river. By a lot of accounts we're blessed (even if there is a McDonald's two blocks down on the corner of our street....almost as good as a puppy according to the kids.)

Best of all we'll save a lot of money living there, and that will allow us to move toward other goals we have a lot faster.

And that is good, really good. Still I drove home crying after we saw the house. Logan kept saying, "Is this the wrong house?" And it's not. It's as good as it's getting right now, but it's not here, in the dream house (even with the water in the basement, it's still a dream house). It's my dream neighborhood, with all the things I've come to love about living in a community with people who, in spite of their wacky political leanings (kidding! Sort of!), make me feel at home.

On the other hand, we're so lucky we get to make this choice. I'm so glad we didn't buy. Logan said yesterday this is just a trial run for when we are able to leave Michigan altogether. It's a good middle step, we're not leaving our friends and family behind, we're just moving across town.

This is going to be a good move.

I know we're making the right move. Sometimes doing the right thing is really, really hard.

About the dog thing....

Remember when we owned that soul-killing house in the soul-sucking neighborhood we lived in before we sold it by the skin of our teeth and moved here? Man that was fun. Great content...shitty living conditions.

Back when we lived in that Soul-Killing house where we brought Maddie home from the hospital, Maddie wanted a dog. She wanted a dog from the minute she was born. I'm fairly sure they had to use forceps to get her out because she was holding out for a puppy. Ironically, we dressed her in a puppy outfit to bring her home from the hospital. I guess we made our own bed.

At first we didn't want a dog because sometimes I spent a lot of days trying not to eat the two kids I had. I thought it wasn't a good idea to get a dog when I could barely make it through the day without crafting Ebay listings to sell my youngest son to the first bidder.

Then Logan had a vasectomy because it turned out two kids was probably more than I was capable of raising, so why don't we cut our losses and see if I'm better at raising bigger kids? (I am!)

Because of Maddie's unrelenting desire for a dog, along with the fact that I have to restrain myself from french kissing nearly every dog I meet, we started really thinking about getting a dog back then. But every time I tried to face the commitment of a dog, I freaked out and had flashbacks to the years of early motherhood when everything was an ordeal and difficult for me, being a delicate flower, to manage. So we got the cats to appease Maddie and buy us some time.

I told Logan that if I ever felt the desire to have another baby, I'd consider getting a dog. Considering how I handled the first four years of being a mother, this seemed about as likely as me becoming an Amish farmer or a porn star.

In the last three years parenting my kids has become a much better fit for my (neurotic) personality. I almost never feel the desire to devour them, I don't feel like I'm treading water trying to keep up with the needs of totally dependent beings. It's a good place to be.

Still, I don't want a baby but in the last year or so, I've been browsing Petfinder.com and thinking about how a dog would fit into our lives.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, our Landlord believes water in basements and tiles falling off bathroom walls is "normal" and dogs are beasts hell bent on destroying your property. (You know, more than consistent water damaging your home's foundation and soaking the drywall in your finished basement is destroying your property.)

A few months ago I told Logan that I know it's really selfish, but I've thought about this since we got married. I grew up in Michigan, went to college in Michigan and have never lived anywhere but Michigan. The best time for us to live somewhere new was before we had kids, but then Maddie came a little (a lot) sooner after our wedding than we'd planned and life started rolling along with houses and careers.

Logan was the only one making money and I gave up my career (and a lot of my sanity) to be a full time mother. I put the idea of living somewhere that is not here out of my mind. Now that things are more settled and the kids are still reasonably young, that feeling is back. I want to move somewhere entirely new. I have a few places in mind and a couple of ideas up my sleeve to make it happen....they mostly involve me obsessing as I did about selling the old house, on a larger time frame.

Maddie overheard us talking about potential places to live. Max overheard the same conversation and was all, "Huh....cool...." then walked away to play with Legos. Maddie reacted less calmly, more like her mother might react to something that makes her nervous. A-hem.

So yeah, I bribed my kid with a dog if we move to a new state.

This buys me at least a year, maybe two.

If I can resist Petfinder.com....

A very romantic Christmas.

I kept waiting for the holiday spirit to take hold of me and suddenly everything would feel less like a chore to check off my list and more of a joy to behold and savor.

Unfortunately that didn't actually happen. Though I had glimmers of hope when Logan pulled the roast out of the oven last night. Turns out that wasn't the holiday spirit, I was just really really hungry.

Oh well, at least that's over.

On the bright side I did make our Christmas much smaller and more reasonable. Something I've always intended to do since the year Maddie had just turned two and began to sob when, yet another, gift was placed in front of her to open.

Since then there has been less crying but more frantic ripping of packages and (in my opinion) a little less than appreciative kids.

I worried they'd freak out if there wasn't a lot of packages to open, but they seemed to get the whole idea that they got what they really wanted (within reason).  So that reinforced my faith that I have not raised spoiled little monsters.

My friends got a puppy for Christmas and I thought that might make Maddie's head explode because I've told her over and over for the last 10 years, "No one gets a puppy for Christmas! That's a TV thing...."

Oops! Meet Suki, the fictional Christmas Puppy.

Logan and I also kept our gifts to each other simple. At least once a week, maybe twice a week, I listen to Logan in the basement swearing and screaming and fighting with the old wooden drying rack we've had for 10 years. It's falling apart and crumbles under the relentless use Logan subjects it to.

He has very strong opinions about how his clothes are dried, underwear line dried and jeans, JESUS CHRIST DO NOT DRY THEM ALL THE WAY!!!!!

Now, you may ask yourself, "Why wouldn't Logan go out to the store and buy a new drying rack for his precious unmentionables?" Logan is a child of the Great Depression. Yes, I realize he's only 40. But this is the only way I can explain his inability to get rid of anything even when it's broken.

I bought him a nice sturdy metal drying rack for Christmas and I think it was his favorite gift. Which was a relief since, you know, buying someone a laundry drying rack is really pretty lame. But that's us, a little bit lame.

I also bought him a bottle of Maker's Mark that's as big as his head.

His eyes glistened a little bit. A tear may have slowly fallen down his cheek.

The best thing Logan gave me for Christmas was a collection of pickled foods. Things he finds so disgusting he had to wear latex gloves to even touch the jars. This meant a lot to me, especially when he put the pickled pear tomatoes in a bowl for me and tried not to gag as he smelled the brine.

We're kind of romantic over here.

Will hopefully not be reduced to Primordial Matter

I am, despite my titanium liver, a very delicate flower it turns out. By nature I am an introvert, I am recharged by a few nights at home in my pajamas with all the DVR'd Law and Order I can get my mitts on. The need for the recharge nights goes up ten fold by how many social events I'm attending.

This means that, in general, I can handle three things a week.Then the other four nights of the week are filled with rejuvenating alone peace and quiet. Now, if I were to have seven straight days of alone time I'd be clawing my own eyes out and/or playing Hangman with myself. Hysterically. I need balance.

I am married to an extrovert and he needs like two hours a week to "recharge" while plugged into the wall. The more social things he does, the better he feels. This presents some issues.

I know it's December and there are a lot of fun things to do in December. In the last week I've planned dinners, went to dinners, spent days with friends and nights with other friends. Then, on Monday I spent the evening burning off my fingerprints while volunteering at the Cub Scout Holiday Meeting. On Tuesday we had date night at my friend Laura's cooking class. I'd give you more information but they laid her off with a note on her paycheck so, not doing it.

Date night at a cooking class is super fun. So was the gourmet dinner I had at my friend's Joe and Cari's Friday night. And the progressive dinner on Saturday Logan and I hosted. And the casual hang out we did with Logan's friend Kimberly on Sunday.

Now, I didn't particularly like the Cub Scout Craft Table Debacle (I think I killed at least 3 kids....no fingerprints left after the glue gun I was using....so don't worry, not going to jail), but even in my most crabby introverted way I like to volunteer a few times a year and everyone has to take a turn burning their fingers off. This is how life works.

But everything else we've been doing is pure fun. Like dinner Friday and a party Saturday at a friend's house and another party Sunday night. I love it. I wouldn't say no to these dinners or parties. I love going to them, I love throwing them and they're fun.

Yeah, I need to be in a Hyperbaric chamber until the New Year. Okay, at least until New Year's Eve since we're hosting New Year's Eve. Okay, but then we're also hosting Christmas Eve and kids tend to be fond of Christmas day. Fine, I'll just hop in the chamber in 2009, New Year's Resolutions? Done.

Until then, I'll be over here in a fetal position.

PS: Please let me know if I start getting too "Edward Jessup", we'll plan a dinner party at that point, just to kick start me out of it.

Happy Holidays!

Neighborhood Holiday Progressive Dinner 2008

I spent a large portion of last week dreading throwing the dinner and dessert portion of our neighborhood's annual holiday progressive dinner. I can't shake this feeling I mentioned before that this holiday season just isn't doing it for me. I know it's my attitude and probably turning off CNN would help me a lot. But nonetheless this year I'm just not feeling the Christmas Spirit.

Now, last year I was absolutely thrilled to throw this party and spent quite a bit of time carefully planning things. I tried the recipes for my menu before the day of the party, I set up the tables and place settings a couple days before the event. We had custom napkins and stir sticks made and Logan even created a CD mix of Christmas music to hand out at the end of the evening.

This year, on Saturday morning our living room (that would become a dining room for 20) looked like this.

On Friday I did all the shopping for the party, nearly dying in line at the fabric store. No, no one tried to kill me. But the amount of time I waited to have my fabric cut and measured nearly killed me. I'm not at all exaggerating. I also braved Costco, without protective gear. I struggled, but I persevered.

We decided to make Beef Brisket, Potatoes You Leave In The Oven Too Long, and Whiskey Glazed Carrots. I started out using Pioneer Woman's recipe for the Beef Brisket, but then my friend, Chef Laura (not sarcasm, she really is a chef) told us to do it differently. So I don't even know how to tell you to cook this meat.

I started out with the marinade, had to discard it and wipe the meat off. Then I got overwhelmed and gave the entire task of cooking the meat over to Logan.

We substituted Cognac for the Whiskey in our carrots because someone drank all the Maker's. (Max.)

To make Potatoes You Leave In The Oven Too Long, chop your red skin potatoes into reasonably even chunks. Put them in a baking pan, add some olive oil and whatever seasonings you want. Then throw them in the oven until they're all crunchy and burnt. This recipe came from a time we, you know, left the potatoes in the oven too long.

I didn't want to spend a lot of money on the centerpieces for the tables because I don't like spending a lot of money in general. Plus I wanted to have a different look than the tables had last year.

I ended up standing in line at the fabric store for 32 straight hours to buy some clearance fabric. It wasn't long enough so I cut it into four strips and laid them down the middle of the table. I didn't finish the sides because they weren't fraying terribly and I didn't feel like it. The fabric was $5.

To hide the places where the strips of fabric met along the 18 feet of table, I used strips of wide ribbon to cover them. (Two 12 foot spools of ribbon for $4 a piece.) I pinned the ribbon to the white tablecloths to keep it in place.

I'm not really good at arranging flowers so I decided to use fruit for this year's centerpiece rather than go back to the easy fullness of the hydrangea like last year.

While at Costco, fighting for my life, I came across boxes of the most adorable little pears you've ever seen in your life. The perfect color and the perfect size. They make me want to have a baby with a pear because they are so cute. (Also delicious, which is good since we have A LOT of pears to eat since the party). I bought two boxes of the pears for $5 a piece, I probably could have gotten away without the second box, but I used them on a raised pedestal on a cabinet in the room. Hey, who are those cute kids in my Christmas Card box?

To set this table:

I spent just under $25.

I pulled this party together in one day of errands and one day of cooking and prep work. It turns out I like throwing parties (aside from the running of errands) so even though a lot of people would be stressed out about the process of creating a party. I am in my element I think, ready for a cocktail and a quickie two hours before the big event. We even had a fabulous dinner party to attend the night before, so I didn't even have that head start.

Now, that's not to say nothing went wrong. I decided to save money on rentals and found this plastic flatware at Costco that "Looks so real you won't believe it's plastic!" Until you, actually touch it and it floats out of your hand because it's so clearly not real flatware. We borrowed our friend's large collection of plates they bought for their wedding reception. But I forgot dessert plates, so that was a bit of a drag, sending one of our neighbors out to their house to get dessert plates.

But, none of that stuff really matters and if you get caught up in those details? Guess what, you hate throwing parties. Everything will work out. Save the stress for worrying about things like the failing auto industry...things you have absolutely no power over. That's what I prefer to do!

Everyone had fun even though the flatware was crappy and the dessert plates were missing.

Hopefully next year we'll still be here to do it again.

Where I ruin Logan's dating life. *Again*

In my last post, I didn't mean to imply we're doing bad really. We're fine. Just nervous. If you live in Detroit things have been depressed for a long time. It's scary to think how much worse it will get. A lot of you have only now started to see the effects of the drooping economy. I feel like we've been living with it for the last two years.

The looming automotive turmoil affects about 80-90% of the people I know in a very direct and pressing way. As in, they could break for the holidays and not be able to go back to work.

It leaves one feeling decidedly un-festive. But no, we are fine. More than fine. We are blessed. I just want a simple Christmas this year because it feels wrong to part with my money when things are so...unsettled.

Here's something more fun though.

Last night I got to go out with Logan. We went to his bowling league. You're thinking, "Lame Date." You're right! But you carve out the time where you can when you're married to a robot.

It was fun and all the people who come over to play cards were there so I got to be social which is nice when your coworkers are two really lazy cats.

At the end of the evening, after hearing the name Logan from another team's table quite a bit (a group of men and women), one of the men at the table yelled across the room, "Logan! Logan! Are you single!?"

I never go with Logan to his bowling games, it's not high on my priority list. But on the one night I come, someone's well meaning friend decides to help her make the first move on my (incredibly attractive) husband. And there I am.

So Logan replies...uh...this is my wife.

And the poor girl at that table....her head burst into flames of embarrassment. I laughed and laughed because...of all the nights he's been at this stupid bowling league and I've not been there. They picked this night to ask him if he was single.

That poor girl.

Now if I were a different sort of woman, maybe I would get upset. Maybe even a little "jealous". If I was from a different side of town, perhaps I would threaten this girl with physical violence.

Instead I just felt so badly for her. So bad that I kind of wanted to go over to her, put my arm around her shoulder and say, "I know, he really is terribly handsome and quietly confident....and between you and me, amazing in bed. But listen, you should know, he has also been known to run until he can't control his bowels. And he thinks that's "okay"."

I think that would have made her feel a lot better about his marital status.

A very special Christmas treat.

Oh economy you're ruining my holiday. There were layoffs at Logan's job last week. I thought his job was immune to the automotive turmoil. Oh and we're waiting on payment from one of Logan's freelance clients who appears to have fallen off the face of the planet. Probably lost their business because of the automotive industry turmoil and the fact that no one has any money to spend around here.

Awesome.

So yes, I'm frustrated with December in general. And shopping for Christmas specifically.

I wonder if the kids would care if we had a Little House On The Prairie style Christmas with sugar sticks from Mankato.

It's almost as good as a Laptop, cellphone, trip to Texas, Paris and Chicago, and a puppy. In fact they're almost exactly the same.

I'm certain I can convince Maddie of this. Maybe if I throw in a rag doll named Charlotte.

Mille Bornes: A Thousand Miles

Logan's family had a French exchange student stay with them for several summers when he was growing up. I have an elaborate fantasy where Logan loses his virginity to the hot French foreign exchange student wearing a beret and a snappy scarf tied around her neck. But no, he insists this story is not true.

The exchange student did however introduce Logan's family to Mille Bornes, a fast paced French card game centered around the idea of racing, and it became a family favorite. So she didn't give Logan his introduction into hot European lovemaking, but she did give them a game to play. She also sent a beautiful dress from France for Maddie when she was born. So, the story is almost as good really.

Many years ago they redesigned the Mille Bornes cards to be more "up to date". Here's what they came up with. It's no wonder the French hate us.

We were shopping at a little store in Downtown Ferndale, American Pop (highly recommended), and found a vintage Mille Bornes game. I'll admit I didn't want to play this game very much, I was thinking maybe we could frame a couple of the cards? Or admire them on a shelf.

But last night we pulled them out and Logan taught us how to play. It was fun.

Almost as much fun as having your first time be with a hot French foreign exchange student.

(They do sell a Collector's Edition with the originally designed cards, you know, for non-stupid Americans.)

A little of this and that.

Bring on the bran flakes.

It is 6:30 in the morning and I am awake. Not just awake, out of my bed and downstairs using my computer at this hour I don't usually see unless there is a very good reason. Like going to see Chris and Susan in Chicago. I like sleep. A lot.

I am usually dragged from my bed at exactly 8am each morning giving me exactly 40 minutes to feed the kids breakfast, make the lunches and sit in the front room with them for about 10 minutes hearing about alternately how heavy Maddie's violin is to carry, about how funny Nathan is, and how gym is sucking the life out of Maddie can't I see that? And then, before they leave for school.

But today I'm awake at 6:30. For no reason other than I wasn't sleeping so I decided to get up. This makes sense to a reasonable person, I'm married to a man who wakes up at 5am to get work done before he goes to work. (!) But for someone like me, a championship sleeper, this is unnatural. I can only think of one reason I'd be waking up at 6:30 in the morning. I'm becoming an old person. Pretty soon I'll be stopping by the Early Bird Dinner special and heading to bed by 7pm, but not before watching the Weather Channel for a couple hours.

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Finally, he has an awkward interaction.

Last night we attended the second concert for Maddie in the last three days. The first was a band and orchestra extravaganza where we were dazzled and maybe a little stunned at how loud a bunch of 10 years olds can sound while playing wind instruments. I'm thankful Maddie chose to play the violin, even in spite of the scratching cat in heat sounds it can sometimes make. I felt a little violated by the trumpets during the show.

The concert last night was a little less an assault on the ears.

Before the show we saw the parents of one of Maddie's friends. As the dad came walking by I said hello and to get Logan's attention, he tapped him on the shoulder. This was meant as a passing gesture to elicit a friendly wave and nothing more.

But Logan decided to make the interaction one of those colossally awkward moments usually attributed to me in this marriage. He kind of reached out to shake the guy's hand but used the wrong hand? And it was over his shoulder sort of. And the guy was walking by quickly not meaning to stop for a handshake, awkward or otherwise.

In the end the effect was they'd just had a brief hand holding moment.

Sarah's* dad walked away, Logan looked at me and said, "I think I just held hands with Sarah's dad."

That just stood in the air for a minute.

Next time I'll try to hug him.

*not her real name

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Other Places:

I spend a lot of my day shopping for the Mighty sites. And yet, I haven't started my Christmas shopping and I have no plans to start any time soon. Let's just file this bit of information under the heading: Ways Melissa Likes To Make Life Difficult For Herself. There are two problems I have with shopping.

I have a big problem with money in that I like to have it in my pocket.

My second problem is Madison's Christmas list that reads as follows:

1. A laptop
2. Clothes (see my drawings for the kinds)
3. A trip to Chicago, San Antonio and Paris
4. A cell phone
5. A puppy (I'll be happy with just the puppy)

So you see my dilemma. Here's my list, for comparison.

1. To keep all my money.

We've been going crazy with guides at the Mighties as a lot of people actually enjoy buying people thoughtful presents during this season. Here's what we have so far.

At Mighty Junior.

The Teacher's Gift Guide.

The Handmade Holiday Guide.

The (Accidentally) Very Red Luxury Gift Guide.

At Mighty Haus.

The Wreath Round Up

10 DIY Ideas For Neighbor Gifts

Gifts for Entertainers.

Christmas Ornament Round Up

Phew, no wonder I can't come up with anything to say here.

Indulgence is good. I figured this out, just as the economy fails.

The kids were convinced today would be a snow day. Because they slept with their pajamas inside out and backwards, with a spoon under their pillows and a penny in their socks.

Somehow this didn't work and there was barely any snow on the ground this morning.

On the bright side Maddie figured out what she did wrong. You are NOT supposed to put a penny in your sock. Instead you have to flush ice down the toilet. Then sleep with your pajamas inside out and backwards with a spoon under your pillow.

I'll let you know how this works out. If you'd like to know, I'm hoping it doesn't work out. I'm not fond of snow days if you must know.

I am, however, quite fond of Thanksgiving at home with my little family. We decided to make our Thanksgiving all about cooking. In the past this would have resulted in sobs and screams from the children who wouldn't eat anything but plain pasta and a chicken nugget. But not that brand!!!!!!

Life has changed with my picky eaters. If you're reading this and you have a picky eater, my advice is to ride it out, keep putting food in front of them and accept that there is absolutely no rhyme or reason to what they will or will not put in their mouths. So for the most part, make stuff you like.

My kids are still particular eaters, but so is their father, so that's not surprising. But now, instead of screaming in horror at a tiny piece of chicken on her plate, Maddie will try it. She might even eat it....as long as you didn't fuck it up with a sauce or some other nonsense. Sigh.

I knew everyone wouldn't like everything I made for Thanksgiving, but I knew no one would have a psychotic break because a half a brussel sprout (cooked in bacon grease!) was on their plate.

The thing I decided about cooking this meal was that we were going to cook everything in it's full fat form. Our mashed potatoes were going to have cream cheese, butter and half and half. Our carrots were going to be glazed in sugar and butter. Our brussel sprouts were going to be cooked in bacon grease and our turkey breast was going to be wrapped in bacon. I wanted to see if it made a difference to eat the full fat version of things we normally cut the butter/bacon/cream cheese in half for.

Well, this little experiment taught me exactly what flying first class one time in my life taught me. There's a reason people indulge in things that cost (in one way or another) more than the budget version. The reason is: that shit is good.

I was full for three days following that meal and also convinced I can never fly coach again.

This means nothing since I'll keep cooking with just a touch of olive oil and a bit of skim milk. I'll also be thankful to fly coach if I ever get to fly again.

Hey Economy! Thanks for being super!