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Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Our 4th.


On our 4th, we drank copious amounts of lemonade, grilled hamburgers and hot dogs with family, read magazines in red and blue wooden lawn chairs, went swimming, and played with sparklers.

Not really. We didn't set foot out of the house and spent very little time out of bed. I was feeling kind of sore and crampy, so I didn't work on boxes. I did get back to reading The Secret Garden to my boys. I seem to be getting the hang of reading aloud, though I constantly run out of breath.


I made egg salad sandwiches, which were very yummy. Egg salad does not seem like something I'd like. When I was fifteen or so, I suddenly wanted an egg salad sandwich very badly. I don't know why; I'd never had one. I told my dad this, and he found a New York deli nearby that had them. I reveled in the squishy piles of egg salad on thick white bread. When I got a job working in the nursery at a women's gym around the corner, my dad would sometimes bring me dinner from the deli: a root beer and an egg salad sandwich and pickles in a paper bag. Mmmm. One of my dearest memories is of going to Washington, D.C. in twelfth grade with my A.P. Art History class and sitting at a table by myself (being anti-social) at Union Station, eating an egg salad sandwich I could barely squash enough to fit in my mouth. I did that twice.


Here's how I make egg salad. All you need is eggs (I use two per sandwich, so I usually use eight eggs, so Josh and I can have sandwiches for lunch that day and the next day. I wouldn't recommend eating it past the next day), Miracle Whip or whipped salad dressing (reduced fat is good), salt, and of course, bread. I like mine super plain, but most people use dill, paprika, or relish. Josh likes his "bloody ant style," as in with tons of pepper and hot sauce. I love egg salad so much, and thank goodness it got to remain part of our meal rotation after Josh crossed over to the land of veggie heads.

1. Boil the eggs for ten minutes.
2. Put the eggs in the fridge to chill for at least a couple of hours (you can do this overnight too).
3. Remove the shells.
4. Carefully open the eggs and place the yokes in a bowl. Set the whites aside.
5. Spoon the desired amount of whipped salad dressing onto the yokes (just start with a teaspoon glop and see how the next step goes).
6. Use a fork to smash the yolks and mix them into the dressing. Add more dressing if necessary (I like mine to be lumpy and quite yellow, but you definitely want to get rid of all powdery-ness).
7. Put in the whites and use a knife to chop them up to the degree you want.
8. Mix the whites and yokes, add salt, and spoon onto bread.

It's really easy and (as if you don't have enough salt) tastes great with pretzels.


While we ate lunch, we started watching Howl, about Allen Ginsberg and the obscenity trial for his book. Obviously, the subject matter limits the audience for this one, so be sure you know what you're getting into. So far, James Franco is amazing as are the bizarre animations.

I had one of those weird love and appreciation explosions inside my brain and blurted, "You're my dream boy."  Josh asked why, and I said, "You're my best friend, and I'm sure there's not a boy in the whole world like you."At least, I think that's what I said. It felt like an incoherent bubbling.


We took a pretty serious nap. When I woke up, I said, "How do you feel about ordering Papa Johns?" Josh woke out of a dead sleep and said, "I feel really good about that." And so it was.

Appropriate for Independence Day, I began leaking colostrum. I did not expect to be so excited about this, but I couldn't stop laughing exultantly and boasting. It's incredible, really. I can feed my baby. I feel like a superhero! Rather than being mildly grossed out like many guys would be, Josh was quite excited too. I never thought my body could do any of this, and it's miraculously figuring everything out on its own. And Oliver did a lot of dancing in celebration. I don't need fireworks when I have that.

Monday, July 4, 2011

How to Build Love.


I'm no marriage counselor, and I haven't been married for fifty years. But I do think that couples have bits of wisdom and should share them. And since I'm obviously just half of this couple, I've asked Josh to add to this post.

*Act on your (good) impulses. By this, I mean that if you feel affectionate, be affectionate. I think couples can fall unconsciously into withholding affection out of insecurity, bitterness, or just laziness. If you want to kiss, hold hands, hug, or say something sweet to your partner, do it. I have to be really conscious about this. Sometimes, I'm exhausted or cranky, and all I can muster is placing my hand deliberately on Josh's arm for a moment. I can tell that it matters.

Life is bloody-well exhausting. As the readers know, we've just finished moving into our new home. During this time Becky and I have spent late nights working on packing and building boxes in total silence. This silence wasn't because we had nothing to say to one another but because we were wholly and miserably devoted to our task. Even so, little moments of a slight touch or a word were huge – these things are helpful reminders.


*Be generous with praise. I often tell my students, "We're all little children. We all need praise and treats, and tiny bits make such a difference." I wouldn't think that Josh saying, "This was a great dinner. Thanks for making it," would matter that much to me, but it absolutely does. I think praise is something else that couples can tend to withhold from each other, consciously or not, for various reasons. I just thanked Josh for sweeping, and I could see his face and body relax. How much effort did that require of me? Basically none. And normally, I would have thought about how I appreciated him sweeping, but I wouldn't have said anything. When couples are stressed or upset with each other, they may only pay attention to lack: "Well, sure, he swept, but he hasn't done this, this, and this." I think voicing gratitude is even more important at these times. Gratitude, even semi-forced, begets gratitude. That's part of the reason I began this blog. Here, I focus on what makes me happy, on my hopes, and on what I appreciate about Josh. As a result, I'm happier, more hopeful, and calmer, and Josh and I are enjoying a happy, peaceful stretch in our relationship despite some stressful circumstances. Blogs aren't magical. Gratitude and praise are.

Performing small tasks and/or chores is one of my main methods of expressing how I feel. This isn't to say that rather than tell Becky that I love her I'll just take out garbage, but actions speak louder than words, right? (Horrible cliché, but I'm tired). Becky and I are both incredibly sensitive people and as such, a lack of thanks can be just as bad as a full-faced insult.


*Try to let go of annoyances. I tend to be critical and a perfectionist; Josh tends to be forgetful and absent-minded. This is a bad combination. I think that early in our marriage, I criticized Josh far too much for silly mistakes (or what I saw as mistakes--sometimes just when I thought he could have done something a better way). I remember one day, we had gone out to lunch with my family. We had leftovers, so I got a box and was looking forward to enjoying the food later. For some reason, Josh and James went home first. I asked Josh to take the leftovers and put them in Mom's fridge. When we got back, I saw the rain-slicked box sitting on my mom's patio table, where Josh must have set it down while he unlocked the door. I was so pissed (this kind of thing was a very common occurrence before Josh started gaining confidence and such as a teacher). But I paused. I realized that I had been a very critical wife, and I wasn't helping him or myself. Some things are important, like safety, money, and making me feel secure. This was not an important thing. I never said a word about the leftovers (though I guess he's reading about it now, years later!). I think about that often and try to let little things pass. I'm not saying I'm good at it, but I do try to be aware.

I didn't know about that but it sounds like something I would have done and probably still might do. I'm not a perfectionist – at all, in any way. I'm far too widely flung, insofar as my mind is concerned, to be able operate that way. I try to keep in mind the fact that Becky and I differ greatly in this way. I'm horrendously relaxed and laid back and that can lead to mishaps such as the one mentioned above. I hope it wasn't Spaghetti or something like that. That would have been tragic.


*Encourage. This is in a similar vein. When I realized that my critiques were not helpful to Josh and really didn't make me feel better, I started trying to put that energy into praise and encouragement. I started telling Josh what I believed he could do and what I saw that he had already accomplished. While I don't take (all the) credit, I know that he has become a different man since then. I'm also less bitter and more at peace, and our relationship is much more joyful.

When someone who has zero self-confidence begins to face criticism, that criticism doesn't tend to help. I think that my entry into teaching helped Becky realize that she could enter into teaching as well, especially given the fact that I am who I am – which would make more sense had the reader known me as a teenager. That being said, and being horribly confusing, I know that Becky needs encouragement just as much as anyone else, even if she is a taskmaster.


*Have clear boundaries. Know what you can live with and what you can't. Be clear about these. What makes you feel insecure in your relationship? Are you okay with your partner having friends of the opposite sex? How do you define friends? What is and isn't appropriate in your eyes? Assuming that your partner has the same boundaries you have is a major problem. Don't wait for a painful or uncomfortable situation to arise. Josh and I naturally have different social boundaries. We've had to talk about this a lot to reach an understanding we both can live with. We never talked about it while we were dating because it didn't come up, and we assumed we were on the same page. It's not about fidelity. It's about making a partner feel safe and precious. And this isn't just about social boundaries. What words can you not bear to hear? What level of voice volume and anger can you tolerate? Make sure your partner knows how to make you feel safe, and make sure you know how to do this for your partner.

These things are tremendously important, oh lord, are they ever. This is one of those instances where my nonchalant flippantness has been damaging.


*Accept help. Josh is always jumping up to serve me in little ways. I really appreciate this. But as I've said, I'm a perfectionist, and he isn't always. So sometimes, I get caught up in trying to do too much by myself, so it will be exactly right. I'll especially have to watch out for this once our Little comes. We were spending our last day loading up miscellanea from the house and cleaning. I was sitting on the floor in the no-longer-air-conditioned, terribly hot house, cleaning the fridge. I'd been on go pretty constantly for four or five days. My feet were swollen, I was overheated, my round ligament pains were increasing, and I just felt...strange. We still had so much to do. Suddenly, my mind said, "This is wrong. I can't do anymore." I called Josh, who was taking a trip to the recycling drop site. I told him what I'd felt. He said, "Go home. I've got this. I'll finish the cleaning and get everything done. Go lie down." Guilt for leaving him to the task of cleaning a huge, hot, muddy-from-so-many-helpers house and worry that everything wouldn't be perfectly spotless bubbled up, but I drove home, showered, and got in bed. I called Josh a few times to remind him of something or give him tips. He was so cheerful every time. The next day, I resisted the urge to "check behind him" at the house. What was the worst that could happen from just letting him take care of it? I sent him to drop off the key. When I said I was surprised he was so cheery (he has a terribly low tolerance for heat), he said, "I was just so glad that you told me what you needed and let me do that for you."

That house was tremendous. Really, imagine something from “Gone With the Wind” and then imagine the entire Confederate Army undergoing marching drills in their bare, muddy feet up and down hardwood floors. Then imagine three cats. Even though I can still smell the bleach spray clinging to my nosehairs, I was happy to do this – Becky had been able to allow me to do something she was all ready engaged in. I'm very keen to help her with things and, when she allows me to assist, I'm flabbergasted and thrilled. There's nothing more dangerous than a pregnant woman in a house with no a/c, inhaling bleach fumes and touching cat vomit.


*Think aloud; share. All sorts of weird, cool, or pointless thoughts pop into my head all the time, and because I like my husband, I tend to feel a pressure in my chest that says, "Say it aloud!" When I don't, I know something is wrong. This morning, I thought, "All my Madame Alexander dolls are blond, and my other dolls are brunette." Brilliant, right? I felt that pressure. What a stupid thing to say, I thought. But I said it. Josh looked up at the dolls and nodded. I felt better because I thought aloud to the person to whom I am closest. This creates an open atmosphere and sense of safety for me. We also show each other or talk about photos we find online, books we're reading, our nightmares, what we notice, and what we want to try. Don't be silent. Share some of your mind chatter.

Part of being in a family is being tolerant of plethoric weirdness. If you can't feel at home in your own home, speaking what's in your own head – then you need to get said head checked. There are serious places in the world and there are safe places where one can be oneself. Avoid the serious places if you can and only visit the safe ones, but failing that, ensure that you and your spouse can openly share your brainness with one another.


*Don't be afraid to like each other. I wrote about this before, briefly. I've observed that liking one's partner (especially if one is married) is uncool. Josh and I are usually very affectionate and happy around each other. This prompts people to smile with good-natured condescension and ask how long we've been married. When we say, "Four plus years," which is really outside the acceptable range of newly-wedded bliss, those people tend to get confused, catty, or downright offended. I don't really understand this. Josh and I have not had a rainbow-unicorn relationship or marriage. We have experienced tragedies and have hurt each other deeply. We have doubted and had periods of just coexisting.  But despite that, we genuinely like each other. We have a great deal in common, enjoy being around each other, and want to be sweet to each other. Yes, even many dating couples tend to snap at each other, put each other down, or ignore each other in public. That doesn't mean we should. Don't be afraid to like your partner and let other people see it. You will only set a good example, whether it's for people decades older than you or for children. You can change what marriage and love look like. And some people will appreciate it.

I actually enjoying breaking the thin, filmy and sitcom-infused eggshell of preconceived notions that most Americans carry around with them. I like my wife and I love her, and if that makes people uncomfortable or unspeakably sweaty, then so be it – they can just spend the rest of their lives watching movies on Lifetime and believing every one-liner spat out on Everybody Loves Raymond.


*Establish intimacy. Inside jokes give birth to friendships. I'm sure this happened to you in school. Find ways to build and strengthen bonds, even in the smallest ways, with your partner, even if you've been together for decades. Josh and I have inside jokes, we speak a language born of family baby talk (mine, my brother's, and even my uncle's) and silly words, and we write letters to each other in a composition book (I think we're on our sixth). The think aloud; share idea helps with this too.

Intimacy has been hard for me. I never had a friend before Becky and, though this was not an issue for me prior to Becky, it did lead to a steep learning curve once we began dating. Early on, I had to learn most everything about basic, close human interaction. Becky was, for whatever reason, very patient and an excellent teacher. This really goes back to what I mentioned earlier in the post in regards to being comfortable.


*Stand up for your relationship. Don't let an argument go too far. Don't let a wintery rut become more than that. Reconnect. Be the one to step in front of the door, grasp your partner's hands, say, "Let's hold on to this." We were on a huge Scrubs kick for a while, and something Dr. Cox said has stayed with me (who would have thought such a silly show could be so wise?): "Bottom line is, couples who are truly right for each other wade through the same crap as everybody else, but the big difference is they don't let it take them down. One of those two people will stand up and fight for that relationship every time. If it's right, and they're really lucky, one of them will say something." Be deliberate. If those couples in movies think their 24-hour-old love is worth causing scenes in airports and stadiums, your love is worth quiet declarations and anchoring embraces.

Lovely final line there, Becky, just lovely. I hate those scenes in movies and what I'd really love to see is a TSA agent tackle the next goofy-haired romantic lead who tries it. Love is bloody-hard work and don't doubt it – but it's also bloody-well worth it. It doesn't take much to write an adequate script for a television show, in fact, all that seems to be required is sincerity (and that's why good television is so rare).  The fact that a moment like the one Becky mentioned was able to worm its way into an otherwise wonderfully absurd show - that speaks volumes about the truth of the advice.  Love is not not not easy and, though you'd think we wouldn't need reminding of that fact, sometimes we do.

Well, that's all we know. If you blog your bits of wisdom, comment with a link--I'd love to read them.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Good Luck with Those Glass Slippers.


 Our move began in earnest on June 25th, the day I reached six months of pregnancy (that's right: my last period [sorry] began on Christmas day. At least it's easy to remember). That night, I realized that the incredible pain in my feet was really excessive for the work I'd done. I tried to rub them a bit after a shower. I was hurting up to my ankles, feeling as if I'd stepped in a beehive. Not until I started rubbing my ankles did I think, "Wait a minute. My ankles and heels don't normally feel like this." The swelling had begun right on queue. I'm sure the move gave it a jump start, but I doubt it will abate any time soon. So are thinking foot treatments and foot baths were a bit silly, I'm thinking about foot care in a whole new way. I'm also thinking I may never wear high heels again (okay, that's an exaggeration, but I may not wear them for the rest of the year). 


I started by rubbing body butter into my feet. Massaging with much easier this way. I also tried using a True Blue rollerball massager, which was nice. I searched in vain at Wal-mart and Target for a foot bath or foot spa to use. 

My friend Leah N. suggested that I use Epsom salts. Now, I was was skeptical about this since I've only used Epsom salts in Oregon Trail. But I decided to try them. At the store, I was trying to choose between lavender, peppermint, and chamomile. I went with peppermint. When I first tried them, Josh was unloaded the car and said the whole house smelled like peppermint. The smell was nice, but I didn't think much was happening. Since I hadn't been able to find a foot bath and didn't have a proper basin, I figured I didn't have enough salt in the bathtub. But I was surprised to find that my feet felt significantly better the next morning. 


The True Blue Spa Fancy Foot Fizz was more fun (it turned the water blue, and it bubbled), but it didn't seem to do as much. 

I did order a Dr. Scholl's foot spa on Amazon. It arrived in an ostentatiously large box on our side porch a couple of days ago. The nodes on the bottom and on the attachments are hard plastic, but I actually liked them (I don't like sissy massages). The bubbles and the water temperature maintenance are nice. After using the spa, I felt totally relaxed and ready for bed (after having Josh rub my feet with Sweet Pea body butter, of course). I didn't even pick up my computer. 

I've received some other advice that I haven't tried yet, so we'll see how my feet fare over the next three months. For now, I'm glad I have some pretty flats, but I'm only wearing my glass slippers when I have to, and I'm putting my not-so-dainty feet up whenever I can (and by the way, you don't have to be pregnant to merit that!).

First Week.


I can't believe we've been at the OLC for a whole week! It doesn't seem so. The cardboard chaos continues, but more surfaces are visible than before. Our recycling bin (it's huge!) outside is already full of flat boxes.

I've had to take a lot of breaks.



I've organized my work clothes in the wardrobe and found space for some of my shoes. My tiny closet still needs a lot of work.

Some books are unpacked; I've started stacks near my bed: books I want to read immediately, books I want to read soon, and journals I want to fill soon.


Josh has put up many of our pictures. We refer them by name: the pink lady, the elf queen, Audrey, Ariel, Andrew, sexy mermaid, and Cinderella, for instance.

Oliver's room now has a cuckoo clock; a whimsical collage; two tiny, decorative, bee-themed pillows; and a shelf for the many baby wipes Mom bought for us at Costco.

Note the honey jar and the bee on the dipper. Cracker Barrel knew I was coming.

The kitchen is basically done except for some more cupcake Wallies. The shelf paper, though I was no expert at application, definitely increased the cheer factor.

Mirrors are in place. They seem to open up the house.

I'm slowly filling up the many drawers of the giant desk with office supplies, pens and inks, and stationery. Folders and notebooks are taking over the coffee table drawers.


On Friday night, we watched The Edge of Love and had an excellent dinner. I cooked burgers (skillet-style) for the first time. We had spotted Boca meatless burgers at the store and decided this might be a good meal for both of us: I get my meat, he gets his...non-meat, and no extra effort is necessary. I have two small skillets, so I used both to avoid greasing up Josh's burger, and the dishes still weren't bad (remember, we don't have a dishwasher). We had burgers on wheat buns, pasta salad, and sweet dark cherries. I'd decided to try the cherries because I'd never had real cherries (just the sugar-glazed sundae variety), I'm more open to fruit these days, and they just looked so pretty. I'm sure the post about the health benefits of cherries over at Love, Bliss & Beauty had something to do with it too.

I also needed half a dill pickle.

The meal was very satisfying, and I enjoyed the movie. Josh is picky and doesn't actually like movies much (what a pity he married a huge movie girl!), so I just appreciate that he watches them with me, and I don't ask what he thought (his lukewarm reactions only bum me). It's a literary-tinged relationship drama with infidelity, violence, and one of those jealousy-charged female friendships. The best parts (and probably the redeeming qualities for Josh) were an adorable baby boy and the heart-aching Welsh seaside landscapes. Dylan Thomas's voice was great too.

On Saturday, while having the pasta salad again for lunch, we watched The Voyage of the Dawn Treader at last. This was my favorite book in the series. Aslan and the lily sea did not disappoint. The teary dragon really tore me up...but I think it would have even if I weren't pregnant. Oh! I can't think about it. Thank goodness for Reepicheep. For dinner later, we had cheese ravioli with tomato sauce, Parmesan, and spinach. Josh left a good bit of spinach in the bottom of his bowl, but at least I sneaked some vitamins into him! I had a glorious late evening snack: cherries and Jello French Silk Pie pudding. Oh. My. Goodness. And I got to enjoy it before the noise of merry makers and fireworks began. I already feel very much at home here.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Dreams Came True.


I love making wish and dream lists. I think sometimes, though, people (including me) tend to ignore dreams and wishes that have already come true. Sometimes, I'll go back through lists (life lists, goals, books-to-read lists, wish lists) and be surprised to find that I have so much to cross off already! I want to try to be more aware, so here are some of my dreams that have come true.

*To find someone to love who is like me (literary, creative, quiet, introverted) and who wants to cherish and take care of me whether I "need" it or not.


*To carry a healthy baby.

*To have a huge stock of empty journals. My actual dream when I was about fifteen or sixteen was to have something like my own stationery store of journals to choose from every time I finished a volume. The journals are in various stacks and boxes, but I do have such a stock!


*To have lots of fancy makeup. This seemed like an impossible dream when I was sixteen, but I do have plenty of sparkly, Sephora-caliber makeup (primarily eye makeup!).

*To have a gorgeous work wardrobe. I'm glad I spent money on this when I had it, and I hope I will be able (I'm determined!) to fit into everything again. Most of my work clothes are from Ann Taylor Loft, and I can put together so many outfits that I love and feel great in.

*To have an absurd number of cardigans. Yep, I have this too, and I've been able to continue enjoying them (unbuttoned) during my pregnancy. Long-sleeved, three-quarter-sleeved, short-sleeved, pink, green, black, purple, teal, blue, sparkly, embroidered, rhinestone-buttoned...they can make any slacks and tank top or dress into something totally unique. Plus, they're great if you get cold all the time like I do.


*To have a gorgeous wardrobe...possibly my mom's white wicker one (thanks, Mom!).

*To have a real fountain pen and inks. When I was ten-ish, I was obsessed with nib pens and quill pens. I would cut craft feathers and scrape stamp pads with toothpicks to try to make this dream a reality. I was about sixteen when I bought my first real fountain pen. Several have broken or just stopped working since then, but they are still so fascinating. One Christmas, my parents bought me a bottle of Amethyst Levenger ink...and then a peacock blue box full of six more ink bottles! These are like jewels to me.


*To see The Phantom of the Opera. I think I was about eight when I discovered this musical's existence and wished so very hard that I could see it. My dad got tickets that year, and I've been twice since, at sixteen and twenty-four. I hope I'll see it again before another eight years pass! Actually, I could include many musicals in this list.

*To have a Disney World honeymoon. Well, this one was just an unforgettable wonder, thanks to my in-laws. We had lunch in Cinderella's castle, and the server ave us two gorgeous swirl-stem champagne flutes, which I'm gazing at right now.


*To live in many different houses. I've certainly done this! I like the different feelings each has had.

*To go to the Paris Opera House. You may guess that this is linked to another dream, and you are right. I've been twice, and the first time I went, I learned the weak in the knees is a real sensation.

*To have cats. My parents weren't big animals-in-the-house people. But now, I have three furry critters.

*To have an MFA in Creative Writing. Thanks, Queens University faculty and fellow students.

I'm sure I have so many more dreams I could add here. What dreams of yours have come true?

Friday, July 1, 2011

Even More Shimmer Clicks.

Happiness Is. Shannon lives in Seattle and posts images and thoughts of items that make her happy. Design and art are major themes. She also includes thought-provoking links that can keep you occupied and imagining for hours.

Oh, Hello Friend. My artsy friend Hannah pointed me to this crafty, design-y blog. Go here for project ideas or just to absorb some prettiness.

Smarty Art  And here is Hannah's blog! Did you know that yard sale signs could be stunning works of art?

Love, Bliss, and Beauty This fun blog's title gives a good indication of the tone and content! The blog also focuses on healthy living.

Dear Baby All about young, little families (plural because of the guest bloggers who do day-in-the-life posts).

The Burning House Various people list and take photos of the items they would save if their houses were burning. These collections of precious items are fascinating and make one think about why and how we value objects. I'm already trying to think of what my photo would include.

Moving House, Part II


On Saturday morning, we woke up before six. Josh ran to Wal-mart for water bottles and cat essentials (we had painstakingly corralled them into one room in the old house, so they would escape or trip anyone. They get so terrified during moves). I had to wear some green snowflake socks because, just as I did during the previous move, I packed all my socks, and these just happened to come through the laundry.

We ate breakfast in the lobby--another great aspect of staying in the hotel. Meals are always difficult to orchestrate during a move. I had a bagel and cream cheese, a tiny brown sugary muffin, and a little chicken biscuit with milk and orange juice (something else I never liked pre-pregnancy). When I was little, my Mimi (great-grandmother) used to let me have two different drinks with meals, and that still seems so naughty and luxurious to me.


At the old house, we did more grabbing and stuffing of little odds and ends, and then we drove the truck over to the new house (one street over). Dad arrived, wearing the cheeky "The Grandfather" (like The Godfather logo) T-shirt I gave him for Father's Day. Josh was wearing his Father's Day gift too--a gray T-shirt with an ultrasound profile image and "Oliver's Daddy" on it. He'd had to wash it quickly since he'd also worn it to the Def Leppard concert.

The two of them brought in the couch, wardrobe, table, and guest bed. We'd gotten a small truck for multiple trips since the houses are close together, and we could save on gas mileage. They returned to the old house to start the next load, and I worked on unloading cars. I knew I shouldn't do much, and being useless was frustrating, so I did all the little work I could. I made up the guest bed even though that wasn't an urgent priority.


Josh's mom, dad, and brother arrived. Zach was seeing my belly for the first time and just couldn't get over the fact that a baby is in it. James reminded him that said baby won't be there forever but will soon be here "hanging out." Oliver is going to have good uncles.

Everyone did two truck trips while I ran errands to get key copies, a new litter box (a new house definitely calls for a new box), and a dowel for the wardrobe. When I got back, Zach was carrying three boxes of books at a time, Dad had set up the washer and dryer, Susan (Josh's mom) had made our bed, and the daybed we were giving back to Mom was loaded into our bigger car. I had had a pretty green spread with white polka dots on the daybed. Now, I get to use it as an extra blanket on our bed (which I often need because Josh gets fan-happy and freezes me).


We all went to a local Mexican restaurant (I don't even know the name) for lunch and sat out on the patio. The two dads got massive mugs of beer, compared to which Zach's regular mug looked rather silly. Thanks to a burly chin strap, James probably could have ordered a beer too even though he's fifteen. Mexican restaurants tend to be very veggie-head friendly, so Susan (also a veggie-head) and Josh had stuffed veggie quesadillas. I had a quesadilla with tiny shrimp and stuffed in a whole little bowl of guacamole. Mmmm.

Josh's family headed back toward the coast, and Josh and I flew back to the OLC to meet the Time Warner guy who was transferring our Internet. He'd came and left, but luckily, he came back. Josh put up our green shower curtain with Shabby Chic rhinestone rings from Target. Dad put up the dowel in my wardrobe (a place for my work clothes!) and volunteered to help me transport the cats. This is usually an ordeal for Josh and I which involves forcing each cat into a carrier (usually with weeing, gnashing of teeth, claws, and demon-lawnmower like sounds from at least one cat) and stacking them in the car for a long drive full of deep, throaty cat cries. This time, I grabbed one cat, and Dad got me in the car and drove the sixty seconds or so to the new house, where I deposited said cat. We moved all three in about fifteen minutes. I kept hold of the backs of their necks, and this seemed to keep them from struggling out of my arms. I certainly was glad to have that done, and Josh was glad to have missed out on it (he was waiting on the Internet guy). The cats slunk low to the ground and cried a bit, but they perked up amazingly quickly. Maybe having all our stuff there helped them.


After the guys left, Josh put up the first picture above the desk: "Girl in a Dreamland Garden," by C. Warde Traver (you can see her here. Josh bought it at Sleepy Poet Antique Mall with a Christmas gift certificate from my mom. I call the painting "the pink lady." She's lovely, and she compliments the floral couch. Zach had thought she was a painting of me!

I made our first dinner: a brown rice bowl meal with green beans, walnuts, honey, and cinnamon. It smelled like tea and tasted a bit like a dessert. We had more cleaning and car loads to do, and boxes were everywhere (and still are), but we slept well our first night in the OLC, apart from our smallest cat's dramatic cries of woe.