Long live the melamine sponge

So, the mapreading skills still need work. But I don't actually get us lost EVERY time I navigate. We made it to the closing on time. (It's a complicated city, full of one-ways, and the bypass versus the highway...)

The owners, it turns out, are cool people. We may hang out in the future, even! We did lunch, discussed the previous renters, were relieved to hear that cleaning had been done. Then it was time. Time to enter the field. We did not realize the madness that would ensue.

The renters, it seems, did not know actually how to clean well. We saw vacuuming had been done, and threw our plans for flea poisoning out the window. There could be no worries. But for the carpet... we went in with a steam cleaner, and discovered the living room carpet to not be a shade of dark tan/maroon, but a very nice sort of light beige/cream. Long live the melamine sponge! Long may you scrub our floors, walls, door frames! Hoorah for white floors, not grey! Hurrah that the apparent water damage to the bathroom was simply corner lint that had never, ever been scrubbed!

We cleaned with a fervor that may have been... fanatical. Obsessive. But we have always felt(even when renter ourselves) that a new apartment/house/garage/whatever, when you move in, should look as new as it possibly can. This is what the housing deposit is for. This is what cleaning services do. This is the way we scrub the floor, early in the morning.

So we have reclaimed the house, inch by inch, from people who did not keep it clean. We have scrubbed the scuffs from the walls, we have spackle to fill in the nail holes, we have peeled away the layers of greasegrime from the kitchen, the soapscum from the bathrooms, and even narrowly avoided death when Lysol mixed with The Works (the sudden appearance of whisps of white smoke from the toilet bowl was a pretty good indication that the vent should stay on and the bathroom door CLOSED.)

And now, a word about dogs. I shall endeavor not to say I despise dogs, despite allergies to them. I don't believe I do hate them, or other furred pets. I think I actually like them. But... there is care for dogs (which can expand to other pets) that is necessary. One is cleanliness. If the dog is not clean, do not let it roam around where it will make all your carpets smell of dog. A clean dog is pleasant to smell. A dirty dog is not. Homes that smell of dog, that are littered with dog hair, are not pleasant places to be. Two is humane treatment. Do not lock your small dog in a garage for days at a time when you are out of town, or are too lazy to care for them. The accumulated bodily functions and further animal smell contaminate the walls, floor, and ceiling, and bleach alone has not yet succeeded in removing it (though the floor must be sterile, now.) And finally, and here is probably the most important... if your dog has fleas, for the sake of your family, your small children, and your animal, get rid of them. Spray the house. Do not live in squalor surrounded by as many fleas as populated homes in the Middle Ages. The people that move into the flea-infestation that you created through your carelessness will want to kill you, especially after spending several days nursing itch paranoia and slathering on calamine lotion.

Flea foggers appear to work quite well. Nothing like poisoning the place where you sleep. Where your child will sleep. We moved our stuff in on Monday, and Mom and Dad helped us re-vacuum, reclean, and unpack through Tuesday. There is remarkable progress, though we only have space for roughly half our books on bookshelves. It also seems strange to be setting up the stuff of a person we have never met, have not yet named, who we simply do not know apart from her movement. We also have more pots and pans and plastic storage things than even I thought was possible. So, if you are someone who needs a few things like this, we might have a special present for you.

And finally, a few thoughts on pregnancy. I am in month 9. The final month. I don't feel big, but then I catch a side-on glimpse of myself in a mirror or shop window, or see my shadow on a wall, and think, "Dang! How much farther out can my belly GO?!" I think I understand now why it lasts for nine months. You need all of it to get used to the concept of actually being pregnant, and dealing with all the emotional baggage attached to how concept and reality are not at all similar. Then you need to deal with how having a child doesn't turn you into some freako suburban soccer parent, and how all those must-haves, and must-dos, are in fact choices. I didn't want to be pregnant. I would not have chosen it. I would not have blithely gone skipping into some parental dreamworld. It has been a process all the way of resistance and questioning, anger and anxiety. And I don't know that I will love my child at first sight, like everyone keeps insisting I will. BUT. I know that I am suffused with an increasing sense of curiosity. A sense of curiosity so strong about what this creature will look like, how they will be, how we will handle raising her... and this curiosity stirs a sense of protectiveness in me that does not rise on a usual basis; it inspires me to think beyond mere education. It is a curiosity so strong that it could be love, I think. I have this mine/not-mine, me/not-me kicking around which we are going to meet, and we will be strangers/not-strangers. She is us and not us. We have so much to learn, so many adventures to embark on.

Mayhem

We have been a bit silent lately. Here are the updates, as they be. This course of life never did run smooth.

There have been some rather scary family/extended family health issues over the weekend. But it looks like everyone is doing all right, and will make good recovery.

Following other things, in no particular order...

Preparations for baby--moving right along. Have had two baby showers, now, and now possess a cartload of pink things. People, people. You are gonna feel like dingyheads if this kid turns out to be a boy. Dagu-chan has promised us a onesie that reads: "THIS ROBOT IS PROGRAMMED TO DESTROY CAMERAS." It will be refreshing, very. I have returned what pink has had gift receipts. Little has. I have gone and bought baby stuff, and it feels to me to be a bad omen to have so much crap prior to the baby actually being here.

Preparations for house closing--picked up a load of cleaning supplies for this weekend, which marks our grand house-cleaning-prior to move. (We are going to do a precautionary flea treatment on the carpets, as the former renters had a dog.) Also have been tag teaming phone communications with banks, agent, utilities, insurance, moving truck rental, and... yes, every day there is a new surprise, a new panicked series of phone calls to someone, or a series of someones.

Preparation for moving. Boxes everywhere. I have thrown away most of my childhood, as well as gotten rid of all my notes from college. Dad was shocked (he still has some of his). I would have kept them, but I have nowhere to put them. Mom wants me to get it allll out, including old toys. She is anti-clutter, and right now the house is crowded with our stuff that has been in storage, plus Grandma's stuff, plus my brother's stuff in the garage, the closets, the back rooms, the bathrooms... Can't blame her, really, but I guess I had always thought some stuff would stay with my folks, to, you know, bring out when our kid is older, and they can see the ancient items in context. But if Mom and Dad retire, they won't be living here. Which will be strange, but provided housing goes with the job.

Preparations for school: this, oddly, seems like the least of our worries right now. In fact, we are flying high because we found out today that SecHus got another boost in funding... he will be an AI. (Assistant Instructor.)

SecHus is actually heading out to VA the day after we finish moving everything, which means I will be going back home with my folks until the weekend, in case of unexpected baby arrival. Not that it is a worry, but dang. 36 weeks, ya de.

A muddle at midmorning

The blog is interesting, in that it is rather like the tip of an iceberg, occasionally manifesting those things that we think about, giving hints about the life we lead, or highlighting bursts of inspiration or frustration that we deem necessary to share, or have time to write about.

It also seems relevant that because of the broadness of the audience, we try to keep the personal ranting down—this isn’t a diary, after all, and despite plenty of times when it would be appropriate to mention conflicts with or concerns about people as they do affect our lives, it seems inappropriate to air all that in a more or less public forum. But for those who read this blog as a key into what we are up to, is that dishonest? A way of creating a perfectly edited world where nothing might be too difficult for a reader to handle? Or in the end, is that just malicious gossip?

Lately, Security Husband and I have been exposed to more televised American news (and tv in general) than we have in the past four years combined. More than anything, it has served to dishearten us. By the end of most days, I am weary, angry, and saddened from the sheer folly of politics, the stubborn abuse of selfishness, the self-righteous soapboxing of ignorance. I was eager in previous months to return, to work for change somehow, however I could. That desire hasn’t changed—the challenge is to make it spring from hope and not anger. I am freed from the constraint of distance, I can dare to take risks that may backfire, offend, or alienate. I can make those risks personal, even when worry almost cripples me to make them. Because I have to try, and deal with the consequences as they come, without fear.

We are both bracing ourselves for adaptation, constant adaptation, in the upcoming days, weeks, months, even years. There are changes we expect, and I know there are things I want to focus on, things I want to do… and to do them, there are activities I shall have to pare back, or withdraw from entirely--things which have become habitual, unproductive, and only rarely enjoyable as recreation.

But aside from all that… We are eager to be on our own again, to resume life as we know it, with our own schedule and lifestyle. Living with my parents the last two months has been nice in many ways. Connecting with family (and extended family) again has been good, educational, interesting, and depressing in turns. The notions of obligation and familial ties rather put me in mind of this huge, medievalesque clan-village of people, as I struggle to remember the names of his cousins, and which aunt belongs to which grandparents, and who lives where, and which cousins are part of which family… and knowing that we are all weirdly connected through this web that runs not along lines of personal attachment or common interest, but something more strange, that can ignore such things entirely and be unchanged. Lot of holes in this analogy: family as such is not something I have devoted much thought to, but have been frequently lately.