affirmative

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I was in a pretty dark place the past few weeks, specifically with regard to adoption. Maybe dark is the wrong word. I was in a dimly-lit place. And there was pointy furniture everywhere that I kept ramming my shins into. Maybe there scary noises involved. My point: I was overwhelmed and not the most positive person. We had met with two agencies (one domestic, one international) and were no closer to deciding how to go about procuring a baby as when we first began.

And the money! And the time! I felt so outnumbered by the variety of factors that stood in our way. Should we sign with an agency? Should we adopt from Korea? Should we just wait a little longer to see if Jason’s sperm comes back? Is that a viable option or am I just in denial? Pregnancy had to be better than what we were going through. I could barely talk about adoption without dissolving into a puddle of tears.

Then I met Alyson. Our meeting was spontaneous and random, and we crammed more adoption talk into five minutes than I’ve ever talked about with my friends. She got what I was going through–all the frustration and negative feelings and high hopes–and it was a relief to not have to explain everything. It felt kind of affirming, like I was supposed to meet this woman for whatever reason.

I still get asked how adoption is going, and the answer is that there is no answer. We’re still in a holding pattern: waiting to choose an agency, saving money in the mean time. In the same breath, we’re enjoying our child-free lives. I will never take these days for granted. As much as I want to have children, I know that we’re not meant to have them right now. And that’s becoming more and more okay every day.

our professional bed

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We built a bed, folks. Specifically, we built this bed. Specificallyer, Jason built the bed and I stood around and constantly asked him if he needed help. He didn’t, and I’m not sure the result would be so great if I had so much as picked up a paintbrush.

Done.

It started because Garrett and Emily were coming and needed a place to sleep while they visited. Instead of getting a whole new bed and frame for a guests, we got a new bed for ourselves and we put our old bed in the guest room. We’re very generous.

We looked around for a bed and frame for our new bed, but that stuff is really expensive. If it were made out of gold then fine, spend $1600 for a new bed frame. Or maybe if we’d had some more money to throw towards new furniture. It would have been easier, that’s for sure. Instead, we opted to buy a mattress and box spring and make the bed.

We began by finding plans online. We read them and reread them, then read them just once more to make sure this was within the scope of our knowledge. Because we didn’t a saw, we took the cut list to Home Depot and they made all of the cuts for us. We also picked up some things we didn’t have, such as wood putty and finishing screws.

It cost us about $160 in materials (we already had the paint) to make the bed. That’s it. Jason was out in the garage for a while when we got off of work, and spent a few hours there on the weekends. While we didn’t get it up in time for Garrett and Emily’s visit, it’s up now. And it’s beautiful. Upon seeing it, I squealed “It’s a professional bed!” As if our bed had been at amateur status just to give the Olympics a whirl. What I meant was that it looked like a professional bed maker had made the bed instead of my husband. I mean, he’s an Eagle Scout so I should have known it would all be alright.

Things To Note:
1) Wood is super porous. There are two coats of primer and four coats of paint on the bed. There was a treatment (the wood conditioner, I believe) that we could have done to the wood to make it less porous but because we were all gung-ho and thought we would have it done by the end of December, we didn’t do it. I kind of wish we had.

2) Caulk is our best friend. We painted our bed white, and because of the aforementioned paint-sucking issue that the wood had, there were a few places, namely between the planks, where the paint just kind of disappeared. Enter caulk. We caulked between the boards, let it dry, and then put another coat of paint on. There are no longer any gaps.

3) This was our first project and we still have a lot to learn. We had no idea it would take this long. Maybe if we had conditioned the wood the process could have been a little less time consuming, especially with regard to the zillion layers of primer and paint.

4) I have said this about a million times, but take some pictures of the process. We took none (surprise, surprise). Even though the building of the bed isn’t necessarily difficult (those plans are so straight forward), it would have been nice to look at the whole thing taking shape. Alas.

Building the bed has started a DIY fever within us. We now have plans for floor-to-ceiling bookcases, end tables, and crown moulding that we’re dreaming of building, as well as repainting and reknobing a dresser we bought. It’s fun, and the pride Jason feels over having built the bed makes me want to go build something now. I won’t, though. I will need constant supervision. Power tools scare the crap out of me.

dairy phase-out

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When I was younger my brother used to get pissed at me for pouring milk into my cereal, stirring it around, and then pouring a majority of the milk down the drain.

I’ve never been a milk fan. I have been a dairy fan–ice cream, butter, cottage cheese, yogurt–but am starting to realize that perhaps my body is having adverse effects to dairy. I always blamed the symptoms on something else, which is easy to do since the main symptoms were gas and bloating. So if I felt bad after eating Mexican food (which was just a taco salad – not even the shell!), I blamed the meat. If we went to Mucho Gusto (the Oregon equivalent of Moe’s), I would get a meatless burrito, just beans and rice and lettuce and cheese and sour cream and salsa. When I felt sick afterwards, I blamed it on myself for eating too much (note: I felt the same amount of sickness whether I ate the whole thing or only half, so perhaps I was unconsciously aware of what was going on and did not want to face it).

The decision to phase out dairy as part of my regular diet has very much to do with the way it makes me feel. We made the switch from milk to almond milk about a year ago, though when we have company I always buy regular milk for them. When Garrett and Emily were here I got a carton of organic milk, and when we ran out of almond milk on Thursday, I used the regular milk in my trusty Cheerios.

That was a mistake. It was also the kind of definitive proof that I needed to stop consuming dairy products. Gassy and bloated are the only two adjectives I feel comfortable using right this moment, but there were others and they rhymed with “quitting.” I feel it important to point out that Cheerios are a fairly innoccuious breakfast cereal. I thought about that when I was on the toilet (for the third time). I thought “Cheerios! How banal! The have made me so full with their fiber and the whole grains help my heart. No. WAIT. WAIT A SECOND! I HAD MILK TODAY! Milk in the bowl, and then we swung by Human Bean so I could get a sugar-free chai with nonfat milk. MILK.

An aside: I find it strange that people drink the breast milk of another species, and the measures the dairy industry goes through to ensure that their cows are at top milk production means keeping the cows pregnant for a majority of her life, just so they can separate her from her calf and then suck the milk out of her udders. There is much much more that happens after that so it would not be incorrect of me to say that I’m going dairy-free as much for the animals as I am for myself.

I don’t know if eliminating lactose will stop my break outs or problems falling asleep or weight gain. It will for sure help with the bloated uncomfortableness that happens whenever I eat cheese. If there are other benefits, I will let you know. I’ll make my husband write his down, too. We’re doing this together.

We know how we want to eventually be eating, but stopping our bad habits cold turkey and assuming new ones would probably make us cranky and hate our lives. There would be very little follow through because it’s all too new. Instead, we’re going to do it in stages. Dairy is the first stage because we’re already kind of there. There is no yogurt or sour cream in the fridge, no ice cream in the freezer. We do have some coffee creamer that will have to be disposed of, but that shouldn’t be an issue.

We will reevaluate after ten days of being dairy-free to see whether we’ve noticed anything different and if it’s worth keeping up. Onward!

getting it back

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I just don’t have it in me lately. I don’t want to write or count calories or do anything, really. I’ve fallen behind on my Bible reading plan, missed a daily photo, haven’t kept up on blogs at all, and have absolutely no motivation. I’m just not feeling it.

Whatever “it” is. Motivation? Willingness? Drive?

I have been wondering if there is a nutritional component to my down-in-the-dumps attitude lately. I’m not overly sad or depressed, but rather a pensive sort of melancholy that I can’t seem to shake. Maybe it’s what I’m eating. I don’t want to get all froo-froo sciency, nor am I any sort of nutritional expert, but I fully believe in the correlation between good foods and a good attitude. When I was counting calories before I only had a number in mind: 1200. I could eat whatever I wanted as long as I stayed around 1200 calories. That belief that I could eat whatever I wanted nestled in my brain and kind of stuck there. I think this is why I haven’t gained weight, despite not counting calories. After three months I know how much a tablespoon of olive oil is and how many calories it has; I know how to modify sweet foods so they don’t have so many calories; I know how often I have to eat in order for my body to feel full.

That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m eating correctly. I ate vegetables and fruit, but also lots of pasta and bread and starchy vegetables. And lots of sugar. Sugar is in pretty much everything and I’m slowly realizing that I’m kind of a sugar addict. Sure, it’s in cookies and cake and bread, but it’s also in many dairy products, salad dressings, cereals, and condiments.

I’m thinking that a dietary change is in order. I’m thinking that when I eliminate certain foods from my diet that I will be able to see results not just in my physical body, but in my mental state as well. That’s what I’m hoping, at least. I want to be more focused and more mentally balanced. There are some things in my life that are frustrating and overwhelming, but I will try whatever I can conceivably try to stave off an overtly negative attitude.

stuff and things

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1. I have only successfully made cookies once out of the past three times I’ve attempted it. I think this is the universe’s way of telling me to quit eating sweets (or at least to quit making them for myself).

2. After Jason discovered his love for building things (he built a bed!) we got him a double beveled miter saw. They had it at Lowe’s for $299, but after Jason scanned the bar code with his trusty phone and found it at Sear’s for $209, we walked out of the store with a saw for $200. That is the power of negotiation.

3a. Now that Jason has a saw that can cut many things we’re trying to decide the next house project. We’ve thought of tearing out the built-in bookshelves around the fire place and making floor-to-ceiling shelves instead, to give us more storage and to provide a little visual interest into a rather boring room. Crown moulding is another idea. Hell! We’ve got twenty-nine years and five months left on this mortgage; might as well spend those years wisely.

3b. If we do another project I will document it more thoroughly. We haven’t really documented anything we’ve done around here to the extent that we could have and I’m a little sad about that. I remember what the living room used to look like, but I enjoy looking at pictures and seeing how far it’s come.

4. SPEAKING OF WHICH: I saw pictures of myself from when Garrett and Emily were here and the only thing I could say is “Wow.” It’s rare that I look at a picture and do not immediately delete it. While it’s not super amazing and highly noticeable progress, it was nice to see myself and think “Welp. Not bad at all.”

5. Winter is here in full force and I love it. We don’t get all buried in snow like New England does so I suppose “full force” is a relative term, but it’s nice anyway. I do miss watermelon, though. If watermelon grew in the winter I would have no need for summer at all.

things to think about before getting a puppy

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If I had read this list before getting a puppy it probably wouldn’t have changed my mind at all because, well, PUPPY, so I know that no one will really find this list by Googling “things to think about before getting a puppy.” There is nothing thinking about anything before getting a puppy. People will say “Think about this!” or “Just so you know…” and it will go in one ear and out the other, because, well, PUPPY.

Here are some lessons I’ve learned over the past three months. When you do cave to the cuteness of a puppy, come back and look at this list three months afterwards. Everything I say will ring true, and you will think “If only I had listened!” BUT YOU DIDN’T SO YOU DESERVE IT. But not really. I don’t blame you. Puppy cuteness hypnotizes even the most well-meaning among us.

You will get bitten. A lot. The dog bit me consistently for a good two and a half months. I had bruises everywhere: stomach, arms, legs, feet, and hands. It was puppy biting but he wouldn’t stop and always wanted to play, so my skin bore the brunt of his determination. If you are going to get a puppy, get one without teeth.

Speaking of teeth: the puppy will lose his teeth all at once. Hurley lost his teeth over the span of a week. It started one afternoon when he and Jason were playing tug and Jason noticed the rope was bloody. It freaking him out because he thought he was playing too rough with the dog, but no! The dog was just losing his sharp little dagger teeth! He would do this thing where he would chew on my arm, but it was differently than the other times he tried to bite it off. It seemed like he was using my arm to force his loose teeth out of his head and hey! That’s exactly what the hell he was trying to do! Thanks for the bloody arm!

Big dogs = big poops. Even though they are puppies, big puppy poops are bigger than small puppy poops. Plan accordingly.

They are cutest when they are sleeping or doing the little head tilt or otherwise staying still. I have called my dog every name in the book, from “STUPID MOTHERFUCKING DOG” to “a precious little angel of adorableness.” The more life-affirming names come when he is sleeping, all curled in a little ball of fluff right next to me. The more adult names were reserved for times when he was biting me or zooming everywhere or barking for no discernible reason.

Dogs bark. This, like every other thing on the list, varies by individual dog. If you enjoy peace and quiet and order in your life, do not (I repeat: DO NOT) get a puppy. Apparently dogs can be trained to not bark, but I have tried everything short of clipping his vocal cords and he persists with the barking.

They will destroy everything they see if it’s on their level. If you do not want your puppy to chew your shit into oblivion, get it off the floor. We used to have our laundry in a regular laundry basket, but have since moved it into a closet because the dog would not leave the socks alone. By keeping our clothes on the ground near him we were setting him up for failure. Sure, he had to learn boundaries, but it was up to us to make sure he could successfully reach those boundaries. Also I was tired of my socks being holey. He still gets into things–he particularly loves the remote control–but has calmed down a lot since he’s gotten older.

They will grow out of it. The biting, the chewing, the rambunctious running around ALL OF THE TIME WILL YOU PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHEESE JUST STOP… it will all calm down one day. We got Hurley when he was three months old and he is now seven months old. I can say with absolute confidence that I thought about giving him away about four thousand times. I remember a very vivid conversation I had while on the phone with the PetSmart trainer: I was calling to sign him up for obedience classes and he was jumping and biting and barking and running, and I was sobbing. The woman on the other end of the phone, completely used to this type of phone call, I suppose, laughed. Clearly she had no idea how terrible my life was. That’s the only reason I can come up with for her to have laughed at my misery. But no. She laughed because she had been there. She had been to that place where she would have left her dog on a corner in a dangerous part of town with no hesitation. She had been there, begging her dog to just sleep, to quit biting, to just lay the hell down for two seconds so she can poop in peace.

I’m glad I didn’t give up on the dog. He’s (more or less) a joy. He still has his moments of getting on my stinking nerves, but I’m so thankful I dug deep into the center of myself and had the patience to stick it out. He was worth it.

Is there anything I’ve missed?

dog-friendly back yard

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Hurley stays outside a majority of the day, rain or shine. We used to keep him inside when he was small, but he’s gained a solid twenty pounds since we first got him and now being inside for 8 hours will not do. We tried it once, and he tried to tunnel out of the laundry room.

Right now our yard is kind of a disaster area, what with the hole from the dug up pond and the giant rocks, also from the dug up pond. The lawn consists of brown, spotty grass and a sprinkler system that doesn’t work and a random bed of rocks that does no one any good.

I want the yard to be a dog Disneyworld, with paths and shade and fun. I also want the yard to be appropriate for people, since we live here too. I’d like to open up the porch area, getting rid of the half wall that separates the foundation from the yard. There used to be a hot tub there, and if there were still a hot tub there I could understand keeping the space enclosed, but we’re a hot tub free family so let’s open that shit up.

A majority of the yard will be pea gravel. Dog urine ruins grass and thus it seems silly to do the entire yard in grass when it will be yellow and dead in a matter of months. We’ll still have grassy areas to be sure, as well as safe, non-toxic flowers to offer some color. We’ll put pea gravel around the perimeter of the yard. He likes to roam the perimeter and planting bushes would likely piss him off so he’d eat them all. We’ll also put pavers in his preferred walking spot, which goes in a diagonal across the center of the yard. He uses that area quite frequently–the grass is worn out from his walking–so instead of fighting it, we’re going with it.

We’re keeping the apple tree right where it is so it will provide shade in the summer. Maybe we’ll mulch around it. I don’t know. Hurley might eat the mulch. There are still some kinks to work out. This is obviously a summer project, but it can’t hurt to start scheming and planning now so when the time comes we’ll have the details nailed out. We’ll shop around for the materials we want to use in order to get a good deal.

It’s exciting and a bit overwhelming. So much to think about! Luckily we have some time. If not this summer, then maybe the next. But hopefully this summer. The yard has pissed us off since we’ve been here.

menu planning

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December kind of got away from us in terms of eating well and sticking to our budget. We ate exactly one meal at home when Garrett and Emily were here, which means we a) spent more than we’d planned and b) consumed more than we’d planned.

Enter the reinstatement of the weekly meal planning. The goal of the plan is three fold: 1) create a workable meal plan so grocery expenses are kept to a minimum; 2) decrease portion sizes and calorie intake; 3) use more whole foods in our meals so the calories we do eat are nutritious.

The internet is a great resource for menu planning templates, but I use the tried and true “write it on a piece of paper and stick it to the fridge” technique. Everyone knows what’s for dinner that way, so they either have something to look forward to or have some time to think of excuses to eat something else.

I start by thinking of the week ahead in terms of which meals will be eaten at home and if we have plans to go out. Tuesdays are always Life Group so dinners will have to be quick. Thank goodness for the crock pot and bagged salads.

Other things to take into consideration: the preferences of the people for which you are cooking. I love tomato soup but Jason hates the consistency, which means that leek and potato soup, any winter squash soup, and (sadly) tomato soup are out of the question for dinners. That does not mean I can’t make them and take them to work with me for lunch, however, and while I’ve never actually done that, it’s nice to know it’s an option.

So we begin.
First I scour the internet and cookbooks for dinner ideas that look tasty. I also pull from old standbys and regular dishes. I try not to incorporate too many new meals into the plan. There’s a sort of comfort that comes from eating the familiar.

This week we will have:
Monday night: grilled salmon; broccoli
Tuesday night: bagged salad
Wednesday night: fajitas
Thursday night: spaghetti with ground turkey
Friday night: shrimp over spinach and couscous
Saturday night: roasted chicken and wild mushroom risotto with peas

After making the dinner menu (and running it by my husband), I make a lunch menu. I am a creature of habit and thus my lunch menu isn’t very varied. Usually I eat salad, though in the winter time I’m all about soup. Sometimes I throw in a Lean Cuisine or, even more rarely, leftovers. This week I only see one time I can eat leftovers (Friday I will eat Thursday’s spaghetti), so I will be purchasing many cans of soup.

Then I compose the shopping list based only on what we will eat that week, including any pantry staples of which we’ve run out (note to self: DO NOT FORGET THE OLIVE OIL). This cuts down on impulse shopping and wasted ingredients. If I only buy what I need, there is no chance that a wayward zucchini will get all leaky and brown in the back of the crisper drawer.

Repeat this process once a week, every week. It can be arduous at first, but it is so worth it to cut down on the stress of wondering what’s for dinner. Eventually you’ll get to the point where you can do a month at a time and can cut the grocery shopping down to once every two weeks (though the menu might have to be altered so you can use all of the fresh fruits and veggies before they spoil).

What about you? Do you plan your meals or just stand in front of the refrigerator and decide what to eat half an hour before it’s feeding time?

the two week break

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I have gained two pounds in the last two weeks and haven’t quite mustered up the motivation to start counting calories again. I’m living my life the way an “after” would, though I’m clearly a “before.” Hence the weight gain.

Something I noticed when I wasn’t counting calories was how, most of the time, I made an okay choice. I rarely gorged, I ate salad (it was with a slice of pizza, but hey! Salad!), we exercised (snowboarding, walking around Redwood National Park, ice skating). Obviously I didn’t make the greatest of choices (cough cough, caramelandwalnutapple cough, cough) but I’m okay with the weight I did gain. Maybe.

I feel different. I’ve read a zillion blogs and magazine articles and books that say that if one eats like shit, one tends to feel like shit. I never realized how unshitty I felt over the last three months until maybe about a week ago, when I felt really blah. I felt like my old self, which is a phrase people use to denote a renewed sense of energy and mirth, though I’m using it to let you know that I felt bloated and gross.

I felt like that because I had been eating salty, fatty foods. Lesson: learned. Crap begets crap. It’s not that I shouldn’t eat anything salty and fatty–they are delicious!–but perhaps eating them four nights in a row is pushing it a wee bit. A very big wee bit.

* * * * *

I added some resolutions to the navigation bar! Did you make resolutions this year? I hope so. Lists are so fun.

bra talk

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Every year my aunt sends me a gift certificate to Victoria’s Secret, and every year it sits in my wallet until I remember that I have it, and then I spend it on things that aren’t underwear and never use the entire thing. One year I bought three lip glosses. The year before that I got new perfume. Each time I stuck the gift card in my wallet without a second thought, which would stop happening if I just cleaned out my wallet once every, uh, ever.

I hate trying on clothes, folks. I find it uncomfortable and am always really scared that the building will spontaneously catch on fire and I’ll have to flee the dressing room clad only in socks and a pair of ill-fitting jeans. The lighting is always horrible, making every blemish on my face stand out all at once. It’s disconcerting, really, and so I rarely enter fitting rooms. I really enjoy looking around, though. Browsing is a wonderful past time.

I needed a bra. The bra I was sporting was saggy in weird places and tight in others. No amount of adjusting would make it feel like it fit. It reminded me of the “glasses up, hair down” a la Gob Bluth/Kitty: regardless of the combination, nothing worked. Straps tighter, back hooks more loose; back hooks tighter, straps more loose. Any way sucked.

On the 26th we took the dog to get groomed and had some time to kill, so we went to the mall. We browsed a few different stores before I remembered I had a gift card to Victoria’s Secret. Jason was less than thrilled to be in there: no wifi, nowhere to sit. It’s really not suited for the men that get dragged along and while I understand it’s a store full of women’s underthings, it started out as a discreet store for men who wanted to buy their women lingerie. What gives, Victoria’s Secret? Just put a fucking bench somewhere so I can look around without the loud sighing of my husband!

Anyway.

I grabbed some bras that I thought were my size and decided to try them on, because buying a $42 piece of underwear without trying that sucker on is ridiculous. I was greeting by a perky (but not overly annoying) clerk who asked me if I’d ever been fitted for a bra. I had not, though I had heard that I should be lest my boobs get sad and stretchy and frumpy. Like tube socks with nickles in the bottom. Who wants tube sock boobs? Hoist those puppies up!

The experience wasn’t horrible at all, once I got over standing in a room in just jeans and a bra and a mirror-facing door. I tried on 5 different styles in three different sizes until I found one that made my chest look like the 8th wonder of the world. I bought two colors, and between the three gift cards I ended up spending zero dollars. It was a pretty good deal, all things considered.

Unless you’re my husband. In which case: sorry about that, love.