Thursday, March 11, 2010

We're officially insane, apparently

Gah gah gah gah gah.

So, we are looking at a house on Saturday. It's a house that was on the market for months last year, went off the market for the winter, and will be back on the market soon. We went to one of the open houses while I was pregnant with Nate, and I absolutely fell in love with this place. It very close to our current townhouse, within easy walking distance to our parish. It looks small from the street (which is a plus in our book), but has a generous addition on the back with a big master bedroom, closet, and bath, and a big great room that contains the kitchen, family room, and breakfast area. It has a huge, fenced backyard with a nice wooden play gym. It has a finished walkout basement with tons of storage. It's in a neighborhood with tons of kids and a hugely popular playground.

Frankly, I have no idea why this place didn't sell last year. It was out of the question for us before we knew whether or not David would make partner. Now that he has, it's . . . a possibility. It would be a stretch, for sure. We have been planning on staying in our townhouse for at least a couple more years, so that we could save up a bigger down payment. But I can't get this house out of my head.

Are we being completely insane? David has run the numbers, and we could manage to buy this house. Townhouses in our development have been selling at pretty good prices lately, so we would probably make a decent profit selling our current place. But the new house would make things pretty tight for a while. Is it worth it to stretch for a year or two to get a house we both feel drawn to? Or is it completely irresponsible of us even to consider it?

And oh, the thought of moving. The thought of cleaning and packing and unpacking and organizing and banging my head against a wall over and over and over. I'm not even going to let myself dwell on that unless and until it is actually an issue.

But seriously, are we crazy for even considering this? Or will we regret it if we let a house we love slip through our fingers? Maybe it's providential that it didn't sell last year?

Again, GAH.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

I tore myself away from him to write this

My house is a lot dustier than it used to be. There is currently a heap of dirty laundry piled in my closet, and all of the bathroom trash cans need to be emptied.

I can no longer blame all of these things on needing to hold Nate during his naps. We've developed a new system, for the time being. (One thing I've learned in my five months as a mother is the impermanence of any and all situations involving the baby's behavior.) I swaddle him up, lie next to him on my bed, give him the pacifier, place my hand on his chest, and shush him quietly until he falls asleep.

The benefit of this system is that I can sneak off of the bed almost as soon as he falls asleep and gain around 45 minutes of time to do whatever else needs to be done: Feed myself lunch, do the laundry, put on makeup, catch up on TV, and so forth. When I rocked him to sleep, I had no time to do any of these things. If I put him down right away, he'd wake up. If I held him until he was deeply into a sleep cycle before putting him down, a process that took 20 to 25 minutes, I had only another 20 minutes or so to myself before he'd almost inevitably wake up as he transitioned from one sleep cycle into the next. That's how I ended up holding him through naps; I discovered that I could sometimes rock him through the transition, then put him down, and then get an hour or more of naptime out of him.

As he began waking more and more frequently after one sleep cycle, even with my holding him, I decided there had to be a better way. Hence the new method.

Problem is, even though I CAN sneak off of the bed right away, I find time and again that I am drawn to his sleeping side. On some days, I can drift off for a nap right next to him, and there is nothing more delicious than napping with your baby. Other times I just can't tear myself away from staring at the way his lashes fall on his adorably chubby cheeks, from watching the soft rise and fall of his tiny chest, from sniffing his silky head of baby hair.

He is five months old already. Five months! He rolls over so easily now that I can't keep him on his tummy. He sits up holding only onto one of my fingers. He loves to shove anything and everything into his mouth, most especially David's or my hands, noses, chins, or shoulders. He jumps with glee in his Jumperoo. He grins like mad and bounces around when I turn on music for him.

Arwen and Blaise were down to visit for several days last week, and Blaise is walking. He's climbing stairs. He has learned the sign for "please" and uses it upon request. He's a toddler! (An adorable one, of course.) And all of these behaviors are mere months away for Nate. Before I know it, he won't be the little guy who demands that I hold him all the time, who wants nothing more than to have me smile at him and kiss him over and over. He'll be crawling, then walking, away from me, more interested in discovering the world than in patting my face with his tiny hands.

And so my coffee table is dusty. My bathtub is filmy. My duvet cover needs laundering. Maybe I'll take care of these things soon, but maybe not. I'm too busy drinking in the peaceful, sleepy moments with my beautiful little guy.