Musing on motion, and why I'm up at 2:45 AM

Because I know several people who are either moving soon, or thinking of moving, I've got wandering on the brain again. Like my profile says, I'm a wanderer who has lately been anchored. The funny thing is that it's not parenthood that has anchored us. At least not exclusively. We had never felt that once we had a child (now, children) that we couldn't move and change our lives. I lived in the same house in the same town from age five to age 18. I don't think that was a bad thing. I had really good roots. But those super strong roots made it harder for me when I became an "adult" and started trying to build my life elsewhere for the first time.

I always wondered if I'd have been more adaptable if we had moved once or twice when I was young. Either way, I adapted eventually, and now I have somewhat of a hard time staying put for very long.

The last place we lived, we were there for three and a half years. That's a record for us I think. The irony is that we hated living there almost from the get go.

My sister is moving next month. She's going to Portland, OR. Portland is one of those cities I always thought I would like. It's just the rainy Oregon weather that I find intimidating. I mean, I've spent my entire life, save for one year, in California. Lots of rain isn't really something I'm used to. But my sister thinks I'd love it there too. She and my BIL call us the family hippies. What just because we're tree hugging, granola crunching, dorks who are building our own energy sustainable house with our own hands? OK, my husband is doing the building with his hands; I'm just the "supervisor. ;) Ya, so she says that we would love Portland. And I think we probably would. From what little I know about it, it sounds like the type of place we strive for: well planned urban areas, public transit, progressive minded, lots of natural areas within and around... But the dang rain. It scares me. Honest. Hey Jessmonster: if you read this, change my mind about the rain, OK? :)

So anyway, moving. Can you believe that we haven't even finished our house yet and moving is already on our radar? Not that we're in a hurry to move yet. I really want to live in my house for a while. I think it's partly the constant state of being unsettled that makes me think about moving. I mean, we spent 8 months bunking with my parents. We've been renting this house for a year (as of next week!). But everything is in limbo. I don't have my space organized or decorated at all. I feel like I'm in transition at all times. And that makes me want to move.

I think I tend to associate moving somewhere new with a sense of possibility. Each time we have moved in the past, it was a move up. Not necessarily in terms of the place itself, but where it would eventually lead us. It was always purposeful: a better job, more job security, a career move in a direction we wanted to go, and sometimes, for a place we love (that would be the umpteen times we have moved back to Sacramento).

Our last move, while definitely to a better "place" was somewhat random. We had hated living in Bakersfield (the motto for outsiders is "Bakersfield: I'm not from here.") for most of our time there. But we knew we could handle it until we found that purposeful opportunity to move again. However, Bako happens to have the worst air quality in the freaking nation. That's right, it rountinely beats out Los Angeles, Houston, and the rest of the CA central valley for bad air. And seeing as were hippie wakco environmentalists, that was hard for us to take. But again, we saw it as something we (meaning S. and I) could handle.

That is, until it started making our kid sick. It's really a horrifying thing to know that the place you live is causing a chronic illness in your child. The Bean was developing asthma, not remotely uncommon in the Central Valley; Bakersfield (at least at that time) had the highest rate of childhood asthmain the country. We decided immediately that we couldn't stay there.

But the job situation! Oy! Jobs in my husband's field aren't what you'd call easy to come by. We searched for months for a "logical" way to get the hell out of dodge. It came to the point where we knew we just had to leave. We decided on where we are now because, though it wouldn't be easy, it was still possible for my husbandto keep his job and commute. And it's a hell of a commute. His main office is 2 1/2 hours away from our home. He was able to change his duty station to a place only and hour and 45 minutes from home, but it came at a cost: the job at the new duty station is temporary- a two year term appointment. It can be renewed at the field manager's discretion for up to four years. But we're already one year and eight months into the current appointment. We're at that point where you start to get real nervous.

S. is pretty confident that it will be renewed for two more years, which is good news. But he's still unsure... He loves the work he does at his job now. And the project he's on. If it were permanent, he'd be tempted to stay. But being away from the family so much has been hard on him. He misses his son. Doesn't want to miss out on his daughter. Heh, he even isses me! :) And so, the job hunt begins. And the possibility of moving looms. Which, for us, is both exciting and daunting.

S. wants to move to St. George, UT. We own a condo there at the moment. It's a rental property, not a vacation home or anything. Kind of the Bean's college fund so to speak.

But dayum, it's hot there. We've been having record heat here in the Valley for almost a full month now. And we're all worn out. But this is how it is ALL SUMMER LONG in Southern Utah. I don't think I can live in that. Actually, I know I can't.

So where the heck do we look? I love the mounatins of Arizona, but the jobs there are scarce. I would LOVE to move back to Sacramento again someday. But we're priced out there. Seriously, we couldn't afford to buy back our first house! I could nevah move to LA or southern California. I hate it there and the prices are prohibitive anyway.

We'd really like to live in a city too. As much as we love some aspcets of living in a rural community like we do, we realized that we were not made for an environment where you depend on cars for everything. We can't walk anywhere here. Even the two places that are close enough to walk to are too dangerous because of the rural country roads with no sidewalks or easement. The highschool that kids go to here is 20 miles away. They have to ride the bus 40 miles every day just for school!

We realized that we just don't want to live in the country. It's so wonderful in many ways. And it was still the right decision for us at the time. The Bean has been healthy and thriving since we moved here.

But with the future approaching rapidly, moving is on my mind again. Geeze. I'm going to have a baby in about a week, and I'm thinking about moving! Ack!

That brings me to why I'm posting this at 2:45 in the morning. Insomnia.

OH. MY. GOSH. What I wouldn't give to be fast asleep right now. I've never experienced true insomnia before. I think I finally understand why people who have it all the time get so crazy. I'm dreading dealing with the heat and a very active, house bound 6 year old tomorrow. At least I have a doctor's appointment in the morning so we'll have an excuse to get out of the house....

I think I'm finally ready for this pregnancy to be over and have my baby in my arms. I'll be 39 weeks on Saturday. I think that's sufficient. C'mon darling girl, this is your wake up call!

Thank you, and good night. (God willing.)

I hereby challenge Poppy...

...for the credential of owner of the "dog to stupid to live."

My poor, sweet, DUMB border collie (an apparent oxymoron, I know) Moke, may actually be the dumbest dog alive. She's so sweet. And fun. And affectionate. She's even trainable. But that does not equal smart. Not by a long shot.

Some days she boggles my mind. Today I took her out with me to run an errand and stop for coffee at my favorite little mountain coffee house. This place is about the size of my walk in closet with a patio for seating. It's set in an old historic village (which comprises the bulk of my "town") where all the shops are either old mining shacks or replicas of one that were once here. Anyway, because Moke is a bit of a freak, she has to be on leash at all times. (My last dog disdained being on leash as man's humiliating form of anthropocentric egoism.) So I take her and my magazines and my book to the patio and choose the best table (which was any damn table I wanted out of the three there). I tied her leash to the base of the table, knowing that the chair would not be near enough deterent to keep her from bolting onto the highway, should something horrible, like a bird or a leaf, attempt to terrorize her while I went inside and ordered my regular.*

Really, truly, I thought that the wrought-iron table would be strong enough to keep her in place. But just as I got inside, I look out the window and she has dragged the tablle about 5 feet across the friggin patio! God only knows what horrific sight inspired such super-huma strength.

So, facing the prospect of having to scrape both her and the patio table up off the highway (OK, it's more like a fast two land road, but they call it a highway), I decided my only option was to bring her inside and pin her agains the side of the counter while I ordered so that she didn't freak out and bark like a maniac at the girls working, one of whom was training. I give Moke credit for this one: she managed to stay quietly hunkered at my feet, albeit shaking violently, until I had my drink in hand.

But then stupid-dog reappeared and promptly crashed into the door as she tried to escape the certain death she just knew awaited her if she stayed there for even one more moment. Of course, she does this while I'm holding her leash and my large iced mocha in one hand an fumbling with the dorr knob with the other hand, and my eagerly awaited indulgence goesw spiraling, in seeming slow motion, to the floor.

Lovely visual: Big-azz pregnant lady with freaky dog in a shop the size of a closet, feet and dog and floor, and door, and display case... all covered in iced mocha.

From now on, I say "phuck acclimating the dog to 'new situations'. I'm leaving her but at home." :)

Lest you think I'm just mean and having a bad dog-day, here's a list of her more stellar "skills":

• she valliantly protects me from the 2 foot tall statue of Buddah on my front porch
• she anxiously awaits the arrival of her good friend shadow... but for some reason, she can never catch up with it???
• she attacks the walls with some regularity, though for no reason known to anyone but her
• she is afraid of tree frogs, but would gladly fight to the death the lab/sheperd mix up the street (whom she has driven off a number of times)

But how can I not love her? Just when I think I'm ready to ring her neck, I get the best unsolicited cuddle or kiss on the nose. She is sweetness incarnate.

*I love that I can go into "my" coffee house and the second they see me coming they grab a cup and start making my "regular". Heh. I'm a regular. In a town small enough that we don't even call it a town. It's just the village.

A day alone

I have officially been "on maternity leave" since July 1. Today is the veray first day that I have actually had NOTHING to do. Sweet fancy mosses! Over the past week and half, I've had something that I had to do every day.... either at home, on errands, doctor's appointments, etc. We've been busier than when I was working.

But today is my day.

S. and the Bean are off to Sacramento for the day for a combination of work (S's., not the Bean) and play. Hopefully, the Bean will get to visit his "big cousin J." who is visiting his dad from New Hampshire. He's only here for about amonth out of the year, so making schedules fit is tough. And throw in the fact that his mom made a "surprise" trip out here to see him (during the one frigging month a year he's with his dad) and you've got S. trying to beg J's mom to let him spend the day with the Bean. I swear, divorced families wreak havoc on the full extended family...

Anyway, we've got lot's of friends & family in Sac for the Bean to see, so even if he doesn't get to see his cousin, at least he'll ave a fun day with dad anyway.

So, back to MY DAY!
Like my good friend Poppy who recently scored herself a "free day," I am utterly at a loss as to what to do with myself.

For gawd sake woman, how many times have you wished for a day like this? This morning I was so psyched: I was going to do a wee bit of organizing (all that baby stuff is still spread, more or less, willy-nilly around the office), read my three back issues of the New Yorker that I hevn't gotten to yet, borrow the book I started at my mom's house (The Lovely Bones), and maybe go to the village for a decaffinated, sugar free iced mocha (get off my case, I'm pregnant and I have gestational diabetes... it's my one indulgence!)

What have I done so far though? I cleaned the back porch and the bathroom, ate lunch, and did some titillating internet reseach on the most efficient central HVAC systems. Now that it's almost three o'clock and I've willed away the day doing even less enjoyable and unproductive things with my time, I can't decide what to do now.

I'm so good at making decisions.

On anther note, I'm going to endeavor a sewing project. Maybe. I'f I can motivate my lazy butt to do so.

I want to make a diaper bag. I have a great big diaper bag for when I need to carry everything but the kitchen sink. But I need something small for short errands & such. And I'm too cheap to pay $140 for something like this (even though it is dayum cute):
































In other random, unrelated, and truly irrelevant news:
my love affair with house hold appliances continues. Since we're getting sort of kind of close to actually working on the inside of our house, I've been assigned the task of picking out lighting, appliances, furniture, paint, cabinetry, built-ins, etc. And while, yes, this is the fun part, it's also nerve wracking! Um, you mean I have to make a decision about what is going to permanently and forever go in my house? Right now? (Note the above admission that I am NOT GOOD at making decisions.)