Morrison Street house

Life is going: “Whoooooosssshhhh!!”

I’m mostly excited about the possibilities of a new house. I was in Baltimore for three weeks, so my honey was house-hunting without me for awhile, fell in love with some house potential, and put an offer on one. We weren’t too sure about the price they countered with, and added to the fact that I had never seen it, we declined their counter and said “No, thanks.”

They countered again, and asked us to please reconsider. By that time I was able to take a look at the place, and I also fell in love with it’s potential. We put in another offer.

Sooo…. I’ll leave description of the place till I know we get to live there. Suffice it to say, it was built in 1925 and hasn’t had a whole lot done to it since then, except perhaps the addition of a full bathroom upstairs in approximately 1973- judging by the style. And… the addition of gallons of white glossy paint over all the solid wood built-ins, and solid wood doors, and trim, and everything – which can be remedied by some paint stripper and elbow grease.

Baltimore was so awesome it should get its own entry. I think I’ll do that. I was there for training, and the training was great. Good class, great instructors, the material flowed, and I actually feel pretty well prepared to get on my feet and start this damn job.

…which isn’t going to happen for awhile yet. I’m telling you: I’m going to qualify for Professional Trainee any day now. I still don’t have a place to sit in the office (space is scarce). Luckily, a lot of people in my group work at home, and so the new hires sit at other people’s desks for the time being. We have several more weeks of training yet to get through, and our training coordinator said today that she’s thinking we may start working by the end of January. Word through the grapevine is that we may have cubes and desks by the end of January also, so the timing will work out. (did you catch my Pollyanna approach there?)

My daughter is really maturing. It is a fulfilling experience to watch this part of her growth. I feel like it’s something I’ve been waiting for: to see who she turns out to be. She’s got confidence in who she is now, confidence in being an individual aside from her parents. Her input into conversations is with the full knowledge that we don’t have to agree, or even to find it interesting. She recognises when we don’t know something as well as she does, and she shares information consistent with her generous spirit. I love that my daughter realizes that we all have the chance to teach each other.

I love discovering how much of her world is now going on without major adult involvement: friends, topics of discussion among peers, virtual Internet worlds, pop culture. She has her own life and doesn’t need to ask anyone’s blessing on what she thinks or does. It is very exciting for me to see this happening.

Always I ponder the balance of “shoulds.” Should I ask more questions, should I watch her more carefully online, should I learn more about who her friends are? But so far, I find that she is a good kid with good motivations. Perhaps this is because she’s 10 years old, but so far I am really pleased with what a great person she is, and I don’t have worries about her behavior.

This makes me a proud momma.

My partner is going through one of his “UP” swings on the pendulum, and that’s the best sort of partner to be around! He’s bringing home the bacon, which soothes his wretched male ego. He has succumbed to the inescapable fact that our lives are intertwined, and he’s committed to us whether he likes it or not… and he’s finding that he likes it. He had a bit of a freak out when the mortgage lender stated point blank that our mortgage would have both our names on it. But he recovered in only a couple days, and now is proud of being able to say “our house.”

Even better, he and my daughter conquered a wall of some kind while I was gone, and they now share inside jokes (both having infinitely more juvenile tastes than me….) and even a smattering of closeness. The other night she and I both went to bed at the same time, and she called to him to help her put her bed in order and then asked him to read her a story. He got her all squared away (the cat had napped on her sheets and left a pile of fur and dead leaves – ick!) and soon I heard his soft voice stumbling through a chapter from Carl Sandburg’s Rutabaga Stories, which, if you haven’t read it, is a riot of silliness and grand tall tales that might come straight from a Nyquil dream.

Life is pretty good. It’s raining in Portland, and I am happy to be loved and in love and moving through my life today.

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