Category — The Debt Drama

I can hardly think about anything else lately. I’ve been wringing my hands about it for what is going on week’s. Ethan. He is almost 4. And I can’t describe to you the conflict of emotions this new phase has brought with it – for both of us.

Ethan is a talker. No duh, right? But, no, seriously. He runs on nonstop. NONstop. I am not exaggerating. (Just ask the housemates!) Sometimes it is overwhelming. Most of the time it is overwhelming. You wake up to it and you hear it until he goes to bed 12 hours later. 12 hours of nonstop talking. No naps. No preschool. No nannies. I repeat – 12 hours of nonstop talking. Mostly questions you don’t have time or words to answer, or stories that have no point or ending. I try to converse as much as I can but, really, who can do that for 12 hours a day? That’s like pulling a double-shift at work… every day of the week, every week of the year. What if you had a dog that barked for 12 hours straight every single day? A friend who wanted to be on the phone with you for 12 hours a day? Despite all the love and patience in the world, you would be trying to figure out how to handle the situation, right?

And it isn’t just that. He’s been downright insubordinate. Now, I can hear half of you automatically connecting his behavior to the birth of his sister. But I’ve gone over and over this and I really believe that has little to do with it. At least between he and I (I do think he’s been jealous watching dada go gaga over baby sister). He wakes up every day saying how she looks so cute, she is so gorgeous, what can he do to help me so he can be a great big brother, so on. He gets cuddle time in bed with us together in the morning, something he didn’t even have with me BEFORE she arrived. I am trying to make the sibling thing go smoothly, giving him his own time with me to play and laugh while she naps, so on.

It occurred to me last night that maybe I am overdoing it. Every counselor and teacher I have ever had seems to have told me the same thing at one time or another: you try TOO hard.

Is that it? Am I trying to make up for something I can’t provide? Why the fit in the cafe about the muffin? Yesterday, it happened again, only with EACH AND EVERY TURN. We went to get a snack at the cafe on the way downtown for a family day which included a MAJOR treat for him: go see “Up” at the movie theatre. At the cafe, he hears us tell the lady that he’s going to split a bagel with dad. He freaks out. He yells and screams and goes “boneless” because he doesn’t want to split the bagel. Outside, I try to get him calm by understanding his feelings, and then explain that the shop didn’t have much else left and that we would be getting popcorn at the movies anyway. After the emotions passed, he was perfectly happy to eat half of dad’s bagel.

After the movie, it happened again. We had to go to Powell’s, (trying to find a used copy of the book “Unconditional Parenting” – how timely). When we got there, he saw some backpacks and I told him that was on his birthday wish list and he has to wait until then. He began to scream at me that he wants it TODAY and not for his birthday and “THAT’S MY CHOICE!” Talk about embarrassing. I get him to put it back and calm down. We go to read some kids books in the area with the little tables and all. After the books I’ve read him, we are on our way out and he rushes over to something else and says how he WANTS it RIGHT NOW and it’s HIS TREAT and HIS CHOICE! What in the world? How did MY KID manage to act SOOOO spoiled? He thinks everything he wants, he will get, and WHEN he wants it. That every place we go, he can pick out something sweet to eat or a toy to buy. Every time we check the mail, he gets annoying and mad that there isn’t a package from grandma in there for him. This is something I have NO idea how to handle, because I was very limited in my childhood on material possessions and I truly loved the few dolls I did have because they were so special. I feel like going to his room and getting rid of like 80% of his toys and then putting a BAN on any gift giving to him for like a year! Ahh!

But then, in the books I’m reading, it continues to talk about addressing the FEELINGS, not the BEHAVIOR. What is he truly needing? What is he feeling? What can I address in him that has NOTHING to do with toys or being greedy/selfish/demanding/spoiled? And most importantly, how can I (and Chris) avoid the game of punishment/reward and learn to truly communicate with him? How can I stop making up for my feelings of inadequacy as a mother – treating him because I had to work so much today, treating him to a pastry because we are too broke to pay for the bigger bills we are facing, treating him to a movie with a large popcorn or the park every day or what have you because I want to make sure he knows he’s still my son that I love even though we now have a sister in the family?

It’s so hard. So so hard. The worst part of yesterday was when my kid, who has been compliantly riding the bus system like a PRO for 2 years, decided to hold on to the bar at our stop and I had to drag him off the crowded lightrail before the doors closed on us, while he was again going “boneless” and bumping into people and I nearly fell over WITH Verity attached to me. That was the point I asked Chris to hold him — I couldn’t hold his hand, talk to him, or look at him. He was screaming at us “Don’t talk to me” and “Don’t touch me” half of the way home on the next lightrail. I was looking out the window in humiliation with tears streaming down my cheeks. I was helpless; I was out of ideas; I was tired, hungry and exhausted. Chris and I just put a hand on eachother’s shoulders for support and took a deep breath. Tried to chuckle. Tried to let him have his fit, knowing we had no clue what else we could do. We must have looked like quite the family right then! When he did calm down, he said he was sorry for being in such a bad mood and tried to convince us it wasn’t a sugar crash so that he could have more “treats” when we stopped at the grocery store. Nope, sorry kid. You need to go on a withdrawal!

Sometimes I really wish I didn’t work. Or that Chris didn’t work. To have one parent devoted to the home and children, to figuring this stuff out all day without being pulled in the direction of deadlines or clocking in at a job, is priceless. But in our situation, its impossible. I hear a lot of moms ask me about my situation, how lucky I am to “get” to work from home. But I’ve always been honest – it’s a tremendous blessing, but if I had the choice, I would be home with my kids and TRULY present with them. Working from home is, as I’ve always said, the “best of both worlds” AND “the worst of both worlds”. The grass is not greener in my pasture. It’s just a different landscape.

I picked up and began reading a book just for me yesterday. It’s been bringing up all kinds of thoughts, and turmoil too. It’s called “Mothering Without a Map; The Search for the Good Mother Within” by Kathryn Black. It’s about how “wounded daughters” or the “undermothered” can move beyond the patterns set for them and become mothers they long to be, who can raise children with security, love, health and peace. This is one of the things I’ve been dealing with a bit in counseling since Verity’s conception, and since I haven’t had a session in 2 months now, I figured a little book reading might do me some good. When I was in college I took a class on creative writing, and at the end we had to write about what writing goals we had. One of mine was to write a book about my journey to and through motherhood called “Memoirs of a Motherless Mother”. But I cringe when I think about that now. First of all, its all been said/done before. Especially coming out of the age of memoirs! And secondly, I can’t completely call myself “motherless”. But is there a woman in this world who I feel a kinship to — enough that the brush of their soft, strong arm skin when they hug me doesn’t feel as unfamiliar as an alien? No. Not one. They are all archetypes to me, even the ones with which I am the most intimate. They are not, in the end, my own.

As much as I fall short, and will fall short again, with my own child, its a consoling fact that at least they will have THAT. If I stay present in their lives, at least they will be able to hug me or feel my kisses with familiarity instead of discomfort, the way I feel when hugged by my father (the one who raised me). Like a part of them is “home” with me, despite the imperfections of our history together.

Oh, I’ve rambled long enough. But be warned, there could be more posts in the coming days and weeks from a person doing a bit of mother soul-searching

Here I am thinking about what a wonderful sunny time I will have sitting in the front yard with friends knitting this afternoon:

Here I was at the end of the day, after realizing that my burning and itching wasn’t coming from invisible bugs but from my white a** catchin wayyyyyy too many rays!

Here’s Chris’ new road bike he got from the used show today! Mucho mejor for his (we just realized) SIXTEEN MILE commute to and from work each day… he’s totally my hero.

Here’s the diapers I am sewing to go under my wool covers I’ve been knitting (thanks for the free sewing machine, pattern and demo, Tina!!!… she’s another one of my heros.):
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Here’s the shed being built by some great carpenter we live with (ahem-seth-ahem… yet another hero.):
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Here’s the crowd that gathered today to help with the shed, hang out, eat hamburgers fresh off the grill, and otherwise have a good time:
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This is an example of Seth/Lacey’s homemade gourmet pizza we enjoy weekly

Good times…

Ethan’s room is finally almost done! I feel so much better knowing he has a space to call his own, a bed to call his own, a home for his clothes and toys and crafts, and additionally a playroom in which his environment can be conducive to homeschooling/unschooling for “pre-k” next year.

Moving him from an 13′ x 15.5′ room to a 10′ x 10′ room presented many challenges, but finally we scored a loft bed set on craigslist that came with everything we needed, including a small dresser, desk w/ hutch, and even a toddler bed to put under it for the “someday” when Verity joins him. At first he was a bit timid about climbing up and down the bed, but within hours he was a total monkey about it and loves his new pad.

I still have some hopes to make some window curtains with some fabric I bought him, as well as some organizing and tweaking to do with his art desk area, but by and large we have made TONS of progress. (This was a goal of mine before I go into labor, so it feels great to be this far along!)

SEE!
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I don’t even know where to begin tonight.

The words are lost to me – an amazing oversight for a talker like me, I know. I will start by explaining my state of mind lately and try to articulate what my heart is being overwhelmed by.

Thoughts have come at me, usually as phrases from my own memory, from a book I’ll be reading, from time in prayer, or from my husband or a friend. Gentle (usually) reminders steering me back on course. My reflection of late has revealed to me characteristics I don’t particularly like. Complaining. Lack of gratitude. Lack of forgiveness. Impatience. Fear of surrender, of pain, of humility, of so many things. Negative reactions and sharp words with an edginess that hints at some deeper turmoil.

There have been flat out miraculous things happening around me this year, and yet I feel hesitant to embrace them. There has been tremendous displays of sacrifice, love, concern, patience, selflessness, creative energy, positive attitudes — but I allow myself to play the role of one who has been too burned to receive it.

The gifts of those around me, even strangers and newly found friends, have been so incredibly generous. I keep getting this image of God breaking through my self-pitiful reality with outstretched arms, utilizing absolute passerby’s in His attempt to show me grace and snap me out of it.

Examples: A beautiful bouquet of flowers given to me, freely, by the florist at New Seasons. “Every one deserves flowers now and then,” she said. Deserves? Not me lady. Not me. My son holding on to my thigh when I leave for the grocery store, telling me how much he loves me and will miss me – after a week of parenting hell in which I failed miserably at nearly every opportunity to show sacrificial, kind love towards him. A husband who tries to hang on to his last drop of patience with me while I stammer on about the ill-designed layout of Ethan’s “new” used loft bed that took us over 6 hours to piece together, who has clearly had it UP TO HERE with my strange bout of o.c.d. that only comes out on him; still he talks with me, loves me, hears me cry and complain, tries to understand and reaffirm me… but isn’t too shy to tell me when I need to leave him alone and stop being a damn nag . Housemates who see my faults, fatigues, immaturity, biting remarks towards those I love the most, rambling off-balanceness of my demeanor – yet I get sympathetic smiles, hot meals, kefir shakes, a backyard shed, and love, love, love. Friends who show up to Verity’s “Celebration” today with amazing gifts – blueberry plants, herbs and edible starters, homemade cloth diapers and time-consuming stitch-work with sweet little tags. A pregnancy that I have such a difficult time being excited about and grateful for- and yet has been completely PERFECT in every way, and has been such a result of collaboration I wouldn’t know where to begin – from friends and elders who helped my marriage start the road to healing to shockingly generous donations towards my efforts to even afford a midwife to birth her.

Oh, that I could possibly be worthy of so much grace. So much attention. So much sweetness. My heart cannot contain the humbling as a result of this. Finally God’s use of my community has chipped away at my week (or more) of self-consumed funk. Feeling I have nothing to offer in return – no poetic string of words feel genuine enough to convey my gratitude and love, nor my humility at my behavior.

If Verity’s life is anything like the grace I have been given during her bearing — and I believe it is significantly linked — then my only adequate posture is one of complete face-on-the-floor worship. What a wild ride I am in for – I am completely unprepared and don’t deserve an ounce of it… which I’m guessing might be just how God works best.

So today marks my “full term” 37th week, and all I have left to say is, Welcome, Verity.
welcome, truth.

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Enjoy the week in pictures:
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This morning welcomed us as most do: a preschooler ready to up and at’um while I toss pillows at him to go back to sleep (ooooorrrrrrrr chase him to his room, endure his upset crying, raise my voice, wake up the whole house, try miserably to get back to sleep, etc etc etc).

Finally we rolled out of bed (after we gave up and invited him into ours) and found a tad burst of energy (okay, maybe it was the coffee) to make pancakes, pick up the house, watch a little news, and get through a few more small boxes. We all had long-awaited appointments with “Mama the Beautician”, too. Lil’ E was first in line for a short haircut, followed by Mama (me, in case that wasn’t obvious) who treated herself to a warm shower and subsequent lathering of lavender almond oil with freshly painted toenails. Last came Hubby; haircut as well.

I’m looking at those dark red little toenails now and assuming this day will be the last I can reach them until my hiccuping Verity vacates the premises. I can hardly believe I’ve got about a month to go- it seems only a month ago I found out I was expecting again.

Though the beginning of this journey (pregnancy) was very difficult, and still is in a number of ways, I am slowly getting used to the idea– (I even purchased my first item for her this weekend- a sweet little homemade vintage-style jumper dress for 8 bucks at Vintage on Hawthorne — I smile every time I see it and can’t bring myself to fold it up and put it in her drawers yet). I am also so grateful for a healthy body that strongly carries babies to fruition. Maybe that sounds weird, but its true. Even when things are difficult otherwise, I do have much thankfulness and confidence in my body’s abilities when it comes to things like this. I feel, on the whole, capable, well-nourished, and balanced — despite fatigue, hormonal and emotional ups and downs, life stressors and spiritual dryness. Maybe the hot shower, lavender oil, and fresh home-brewed Kombucha has set me into the “my body ROCKS” mentality, but I really am grateful for all it has given me, and of course to God for the blessing. I love how the less I mess with my body, the better it is. For example, I’ve seen a clinic/hospital medical doctor probably less than 5 times in 20 years (I assume I went more in my early years for shots and stuff, but since then it’s been almost nil). I believe in listening to my body and giving it the time and nourishment to heal itself from ailments I have grown a lot stronger. I used to think I was so odd because my dad never took me “in” for antibiotics or check-ups like most of my friends did several times a year. Now I am SO grateful, because that gave me the opportunity to learn to deal with the causes rather than the symptoms, allowing me to heal from the inside out. Though I fail all the time with regards to nutritional and physical neglect, time and again my body responds to gentle aids and preventative lifestyle changes so well, and I feel more healthy this year than any year prior in my life.

What I’m getting at is this: I trust my body with this pregnancy, and with the upcoming labor. I know that God has His hands on me, bringing life into the world in the most miraculous way (not only in the astounding universal physical way, but in our own unique story as a recovering couple and my journey during this pregnancy- with depression, anger, fear, acceptance, forgiveness, boundaries, rest, simplicity, humility, homesickness, helplessness, miracles, surrender, on and on and on! Phew- it’s been a pretty darn exhausting detox!).

Right now, my vision for this birth is one of acceptance. I accept the timing of labor, calling it neither “early” “on time” or “late”. I accept the labor experience, whether an ideal homebirth or not – even a c-section. I just accept it. My natural tendency is to control my situations, to dread the possible outcomes and anticipate my disappointment – all pretty prideful, actually. While I have a hope for the birth, I remember that I am not the scriptwriter for my life, or anyone elses — including my children or husband. 7 years ago, my hopes and ideals for my marriage were so very far from the reality of the experience I have had — and yet, all is well. My hopes and ideals for my son’s life and myself as a mother have also proved to be an experience I was completely unprepared to handle – but all is well there too.

It’s fairly accurate to say that I used to think as through I was the artist of my life, painting out what the finished work should look like (while carefully protecting myself from mistakes). My “masterpiece” was quite a mess, wasn’t it? All those colors kinda became that brownish-gray that comes from the frantic pursuit to correct the “wrongs” and the canvas was soaked and overworked. How much more delightful it is to sit back and watch the real Master at work and accept the patterns and movements as part of His plan.

I have so enjoyed some sweet conversations with friends – fellow mothers – these last few days, and some great laughter too. My heart is filled with gratitude for being able to release through story-telling, confessions, and concern for others as well. I hope to enter the week ahead with a wiser head on my shoulders, with less victim-thinking and more surrender. I hope to step out of my self-condemnation and into true repentance; to get a bit further passed the hang ups of my failures and allow myself to receive the grace of a loving Father.

Sure, I also hope to get some days to sleep in – some mornings to wake up to peace rather than annoyance. But what I really desire is to wake up to ANYTHING and still be able to say, it is well.

My mother-in-law recently shared with me this artilce by Peggy Noonan called There’s No Pill For This Kind of Depression. She believes it sums up the feeling of people her age with regards to our current economic state in America and asked me to reflect on the article a bit and speak for my generation on whether or not this article resonates with us as well.

After some thought, I rambled a bit (you know me!) and then decided to share with you all as well since it’s already in the forefront of my mind.

While I can’t speak for all 20-somethings, I think I’ve got a handle on how many, or even most, folks my age are “adjusting” to the crash of Wall Street, of varying degrees I’m sure. I’d love to hear your thoughts too — all ages welcome to chime in!

I think that what people my age are feeling is almost the opposite of what people your age are feeling.

This part of the article struck me: “We are worried, he said, ‘about a way of life, about the loss of upward trajectory.’” You see, we had not yet the opportunity to grasp at the “upward trajectory” you had. We didn’t have jobs for 25 years, savings accounts and investments. We were used to being “poor”, and had little desire for a bigger home, or even to own a home at all. We didn’t have much to lose: no wills or life insurance or car payments or mortgages- most people in their twenties don’t even know what exactly is the difference between a CD or a Roth IRA, lol. They never had enough money to utilize America’s prosperous years anyway!

Most of the people I know had already assumed that the values of the last 10-20 years of American prosperity were overrated and on their way out. It didn’t take the economic decline to tell us this. We could see our older generations clinging to their American Dream and we weren’t sure we wanted that.

This is in many ways what I have been studying for several years – this postmodern, millennial generation that tends towards a kind of intangible life where meaning and mystical experiences replace the security of their trust fund. For example, young Christians didn’t want large mega churches void of religious symbolism, or as some coin them “seeker friendly”- but the older generations really, really thought these “campus-model” churches were THE answer for attracting youth. After all, they had grown accustom to affluence and wanted ever more of it – why wouldn’t we follow suit?

Instead, we flocked to small, intimate places of worship where we sensed something sacred – and there were major growths towards religions which are known for simplistic living, such as Buddhism and monastic communities. This all PRIOR to the “great crash”. The great crash, then, had less effect on us. Basically, all it means is that it’s harder to find jobs, and those of us with credit card debt are learning a hard lesson, that’s for sure. But we still have hopes for America, ideals that span beyond being the strongest empire of the West. (We are secretly HAPPY that the foundation of affluence has been shaken. Now you’re all in the same boat as us! LOL)

Another example: I keep seeing on the news this feature story that the older generations are wondering how to keep up the “green” trend as cost of such products don’t fit the paychecks of the economic recession. We keep hearing reports that families of, say, 35-55 year old adults who are eating more fast food and cheap, mass-produced ingredients. But I look around and those of us in our 20’s are doing just the opposite. And we aren’t buying Seventh Generation All-Purpose Cleaner and eco-diapers either – we’re doing what our grandparents did and returning to traditional, gentle cleaners like baking soda, or simple, healthy meals from local sources, or cloth diapers. We don’t want to buy cheaper shoes or cook wear that we’ll have to replace each year, we’d rather buy wooden toys or USA made high quality shoes, or cast iron skillets – things that we can rely on for 25 years! We’re apt to learn to sew up the holes in our socks rather than perpetuate our previously wasteful attitude about possessions. Again, the economic “crash” of Wall-street is far removed from us- if anything it only proved our thoughts of scaling BACK were right on!

The depression, if any, that we suffer is very short term. It’s easier to let go of that (false) vision of unending prosperity when you haven’t had it — or have only had it for a short time. Most folks in their 20’s, young families like mine, can come away rather unscathed- and not the least bit surprised!

And we don’t want Obama to come in and take us back the Clinton era. (God, that would be awful!) We want to work on the long-haul, deeper issues of America and create a country that is balanced and sustainable for the long run – so our children can grow up in a place where people care about each other and the land flourishes, where people are idealistic and educated at the same time, so they can lead the nation into a future that doesn’t look like the 30’s — but doesn’t look like the 90’s either!

Well, it might have taken the last grueling 9 hours to complete 6 craigslist postings and e-file my taxes, with a major sinus cold coming on and a preschooler who would JUST NOT QUIT!

BUT! I must have been way off with my paperwork when I first figured out my taxes. If there are no mistakes, our refund (direct deposit within 2 weeks!), is supposed to be nearly $2,000 more than we thought! I’m hesitant to get excited about this, but it could just mean that we can pay for the rest of this birth (or at least some of it, we are also behind on some bills so we’d have to catch up a bit there too, lol). ANYWAY, 9 hours of doing that will be worth it if that’s truly what we get back! I also sold a few things to craigslisters so we’ve got a little money for a u-haul this weekend if we need to get one. Woot!

Thank you all so much for all the Happy Birthday messages and stuff! This headache is pretty bad so I’ve kinda avoided anything but essentials today, though I plan to work a bit later (yes, you-know-who-you-are, I’ll get to those assignments you’ve sent yesterday and today- I promise! lol)

Ok, I’m going to make some tea now and figure out where my brain is. (P.S. I smell chocolate from the kitchen! Yee haw!)

I’ve reworked our budget according to some new figures, including lower rent and some utilities, sharing food and bulk items with our home-sharing family, so on. I am delighted to see our budget starting to look more realistic, and with positive numbers showing up at the end! With a low guess of my monthly income, we should have enough to put a little in a savings account (WHAT? Did she just say SAVINGS? What’s THAT?), a little to give away to those in need, and $350 a month for the birth (if it isn’t all covered by April, I’ll owe another 350 each month until its paid off, so I’m planning for that now).

I think my biggest challenge will be in keeping grocery and food costs down. I currently have our limit (family of 3, one pregnant) at $300 per month. I want to drastically reduce my need for the weekly grocery trip, instead ordering my reoccuring items in bulk from Azure Standard through a local portland parenting group and splitting a large Organics to You bin. I still need weekly items from the grocery store, (milk, eggs, occasional “treat” ) but I read on another blog that when trying to reduce the need for the grocery store trip, limit yourself to $10/per person/ per week, so that you don’t spend more than 50 bucks more than you budget for each month. Our limit will be a little higher than that, but it’s a good place to start.

Cup&Saucer yummies




You know you’re moving when your living room looks like this!

You know you’re having a baby girl when she owns more clothes UNBORN than your 3 year old boy does!

Lacey and I went out to turn in our lease yesterday, had a meal at the Cup and Saucer Cafe on Denver, and walked around the new place a bit, scoping out plans for the yard. There’s an ideal corner for the chickens that we will keep fenced in so they can roam a bit but not get into the veg beds and clothes drying lines. There’s a big ol tree that I can’t wait to rig a tree swing to for the boys. The front yard looks like it might have a great sunny spot for a small square bed for herbs, but we really can’t tell until we move in and see the sunlight throughout the day. A funny moment when both of us stood in front of the house looking up at it like it was one of the 7 great wonders of the world , took a deep breath, and tore ourselves away to get back to the reality of packing and moving and dealing with the “past” before we can move on.

We are starting to think that Hubby and I can have us in boxes/bags by Saturday morning, and the landlord is good with us getting keys then, so if we can get a few guys together and a truck or two, we are hoping to get most of our moving, if not all, done on Saturday. That will give me a week, at least, to get back over here and clean, Hubby can paint the kitchen, etc etc. The sooner we get our current place move-out ready, the sooner we can get back our hefty security deposit, so we are motivated! Yesterday we rolled up carpets, spot cleaned the rugs, replaced a cracked medicine cabinet mirror with a $5 piece found at the Rebuilding Center (holy cow- awesome!), boxed up Ethan and Verity’s clothes, Ethan’s toys, etc. Our room is next – not looking forward to it. Kitchen will be last for me and tv/electronics will be last for Hubby (Friday!).

Pregnancy is going really well, btw. Verity is super duper active, keeps me up at night a lot but mostly its fine. My anemia seems to be doing better, but my leg cramping is worsening. I’m taking cal-mag citrate but its at the point that if I flex my BUTT muscle while sleeping, it will get a charlie horse. (Who knew you could get a charlie horse in your buttocks?!) I know its the last stretch that is the hardest, so I’m very grateful that moving will be underway and finished by the time she is due. I’m excited for my sister, who is due in just two weeks, with her first! I can hardly believe it!

Ta ta for now…

Hmmm… we’ll have to discuss the nickname for our new place…the “Ort-Hol Community House”, but that just sounds, I dunno, a bit like a dirty reference! LOL

OKAY! I wrote earlier that we were hard at work finding a place. Well, place found! We saw it yesterday, (three times to be exact), and turned in apps and they were approved today and we are signing leases and getting keys for March 1st. WOAH! When things work out, boy do they work out! Sheesh.

I really like this little place. It’s a small, 3-level home in N. Portland 5 blocks from the Lombard/Interstate MAX stop. Built in 1924, it’s got a bit of character but also lots of upgrades for energy efficiency and so on. Two levels have 2 beds/1 bath each, with a 3rd level that is like a long loft/ family room/ guest room. Fun stuff. Oh, and the landlord is a firefighter who lives nearby and is the most easy going guy I’ve ever met, its almost laughable. We get to keep the chickens and the kitty, without even needing a deposit. It’s fairly miraculous how it is all working out so far!

Bing, bang, boom – folks. We start relocating in 2 weeks. So you may not hear from me much due to working and packing and so forth, but I’ll do my best to keep ya posted.

Please continue to pray for us and for the other family as we take this step…

Ah, now THIS is familiar. Tossing and turning at night; gotta pee, gotta eat, gotta move. Only 4am? I went to bed just FOUR HOURS AGO?! Okay, I’ll lay here another few hours. Only 4:30? 5:00? 5:30? Must.Get.Up.

I’ve answered my email, flipped through a birthing book, too tired and foggy to work this early, but its dark outside still (almost 7, currently) and no one is up yet – except Paz, who is trying to suckle on the hip of my pj pants. (He’s a bit of a, well, baby.)

I have a feeling that with this kind of start, the rest of this post is gonna be a tad jumbled and odd. Bare with me.

Hubby and I recently made the decision to start looking for a new place. We have very few expenses compared to a lot of people, (no cable, no home phone, no CARS, sharing the smallest minutes on our cell plan, so on) but still we live “at” our means each month with unforeseen bills due, a large debt payment that comes close to what we pay in rent each month, and now this upcoming birth and baby prep. We hold the value that financial solutions don’t always come in “work more, harder, longer” packages, yet we have been stuck with ways we could spend less, cut back, save more, so on. We also really want a simple life, not the American dream, just our dream – to be together as a healthy, peaceful, thriving family, with ample time to love and serve each other and those outside our family too. We spent about 4 years of our marriage being too busy to deal with our relationship, and discontent with every new material or achievement, with this vague restlessness like standing in front of the open fridge but not sure what to eat (which Sarah, who was the speaking elder at church last week, said she knew some one who said that we need God in those times… or am I remembering that correctly? Oh well, that’s what I got out of it!) . There has been so much change this year that we can hardly believe this is how things once were. And since there is no guarantee of tomorrow, I am grateful for today.

Moving on. Or back — to our impending move. We’ve got a relatively short amount of time to boogie on outta here, (so play that funky music, white boy.) I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that we are planning on sharing a community house with a family from church, something I am uber excited about, (so excited, mind you, that the word “uber” popped out) … (I did mention I barely slept last night, right? It makes you say crazy things, and have songs stuck in your head about a rock-n-roll singer embracing the disco movement.)

Today we hope to hear good news from a place that so far looks really appealing. Oh shoot, I’ll just say it, I WOULD FALL OVER AND HAVE MY BABY RIGHT NOW if we got this place. Well, that’s ultimately up to the baby, I suppose, so I don’t want to commit her to anything, (at least not for another 6 weeks, since I’m only 31 weeks right now.) But let’s just say that SOMETHING would come out my Ladyness if we get this place. (early, folks. really, really early.)

Oh, thank GAWD. My 3 year old best friend is up now to keep me company Adios!