In which I get very detailed about finances

So, one thing that sucked about our beach trip was that Torsten had to do some work while we were there. He wasn't working full-time, but he's managing an important project that he couldn't just abandon for the week, so he did a few hours' worth of work each weekday that we were there.

So, now we're thinking that if we can finagle the time off and the finances, we'd like to take some sort of trip together in the fall, a real getaway where we can both not think about work at all and really relax. That's what this last week was for me, but not for him, and less so for me due to his absence at times.

By the way, we're taking suggestions on where to go. Mexico? Belize? California? Elsewhere?

So yesterday I started looking into some of our credit card rewards and other financial stuff to see if we'd be able to swing this trip. I haven't checked out any of our credit card rewards for quite some time, and it turns out that we have quite a bit accrued. In fact, we have about $1,000 worth of awards available to us. We have 25,000 frequent flier miles on one card (thanks to a 15,000-mile introductory bonus plus charging my surgery on that card). We have $250 on the card that gives us 6% back on all gas and grocery purchases. We have $300 on the card that gives 3% back on Amazon.com purchases, 2% back on restaurants, 1% back on everything else, and double all of those things for the first three months. And we have $250 available in our ThankYou network account, which accrues from multiple accounts.

The way we manage this without going broke is that we put every single purchase we make on a credit card, but we pay them all off every month. I know some people think that using credit cards makes them spend more without noticing, but for me it's always been cash that flies out of my wallet with shocking rapidity. The accountability of credit card purchases, the fact that you have to see them again in black and white when the statement arrives, makes me less likely to overspend. And by paying them off in full every month, we avoid interest and finance charges but still get to accrue tons of awards.

It's a great system, as long as we don't succumb to the siren song of leaving a balance on a card just this once (surgery excepted; health comes first). And it's saved us hundreds of dollars over the years. Plus, it has helped build up Torsten's credit score (which was lagging when I met him because he was foreign, had no credit history, and didn't really understand how credit scores worked), which enabled us to get a fantastic fixed interest rate on our mortgage (not to mention getting approved for the mortgage to begin with).

And speaking of our mortgage, we have a system for that too. Because our interest rate is so low, this might not necessarily make the most financial sense sometimes--if we could earn more interest on our money elsewhere, or if we could avoid paying higher interest elsewhere, this plan in fact would not make sense (except that the compound interest on the mortgage would add up over more years, costing us more in the long term? I'm a bit fuzzy on the calculations). But we do this anyway because we have a goal and we want to meet it.

The goal is to pay off the mortgage in 15 years instead of 30. Originally we wanted to get a 15-year mortgage but our mortgage broker pointed out, quite accurately, that with interest rates so low, it wouldn't change anything for us to go for 15 over 30, so instead it made sense to get a 30-year mortgage, pay it off as if it were a 15-year mortgage, and have the option of the lower monthly payment if anything were to happen that affected our finances (like one of us losing our job).

So, that's what we did. We went to a mortgage calculator and looked at exactly how much more money we would have to pay each month in principal and interest in order to have the mortgage paid off in fifteen years, and every month we write a check for our total payment due plus slightly more than that amount. And even though we just entered into this mortgage and have in fact made only two payments on it so far, we can already see the principal going down.

This, for those of you who aren't familiar with mortgages, is rare. Normally the earlier payments in a mortgage pay down the interest almost exclusively. In fact, our mortgage broker told us that, on average, it takes 22 years to pay down 50% of the principal of a 30-year mortgage. Paying a 30-year mortgage off over 15 years instead will save us over $100,000 in interest. It will also save us some mortgage insurance payments (we are required to have mortgage insurance because we did not put down a full 20%), because mortgage insurance is lifted when you get down to 80% of the principal, and that will happen sooner for us.

I know this is very detailed, and it makes me feel very... un-childish, but I find it fascinating. Finances and the way they work and the way you plan for the future and make your money get somewhere... it's all so interesting. In this case the plan is to be done with the mortgage before any college tuition bills show up (assuming we don't have one of those child prodigies that goes to college at age 10, and I think that's a fairly safe assumption).

Also, because we were first-time home buyers in 2009, we will get an $8,000 tax credit next year. We have already earmarked this money for new windows in our house. And yes, I understand that this makes us boring and stodgy, but can I just say that I am incredibly excited about those windows? Our current windows are the originals, and they have lovely wooden frames--but half of them don't open, and some of them are cracked, and some of them are drafty, and all of them are single-paned, which means we waste a ton of energy and also the house gets hotter in the summer and colder in the winter.

So, yes, although it makes me feel old and boring to say that we're going to use an $8,000 credit to pay for new windows, that's exactly what we're going to do. And, if you put in energy-efficient windows in 2009 OR 2010, you get a tax credit for that as well, for 30% of the cost with a cap of $1500. So that means we can wait until we get this year's tax credit, put it toward next year's windows, and get a credit for that the next year. Which is perfect.

And also? On the windows? Another reason why I'm excited other than the reduced energy consumption (and bills) and being able to open them all and have them be airtight? Is that they will make the house quieter, which is important when you live next to a highway. We can hear soft highway noises from the back of our house, but our next-door neighbors, who have double-paned windows, cannot. And I am looking forward to that, even though the highway noise doesn't really bother me as it is. I think it will be one of those things where you don't notice it until it's gone, and that will be nice.

Also on the energy efficiency thing, did you know that in Denver if you buy an energy-efficient washing machine, you get a $150 rebate from Denver Water? I applied for ours a couple weeks ago and was told that it would take 8 to 10 weeks to process, but when we got back from the beach, the check was waiting in the mail. I'm very excited about that as well.

This whole tax thing is just so complicated. It used to be that I earned so little that I hardly had to pay taxes, and then even once I graduated and had a real job, I just filled out those EZ forms, waited for my small refund check, and went about my way. Now there are tax credits and tax deductions and all sorts of scary adult things--and we don't even have kids yet so there is nobody filing as dependents or heads of household or any other such alarming stuff.

But I've learned so much about taxes! Not only do we get credits for buying a house and putting in new windows... we also get all these deductions! You can deduct anything you spend on health that exceeds 7.5% of your income, so this year with my surgery we will have some deductions, and thus are hoarding all our receipts (including prescriptions and office visit co-pays) to calculate in our deductions. We can deduct our mortgage interest (and that's a lot). And, because we work from home, we can deduct costs we incur for that as well. For example, we can deduct the cost of the desk we had to buy for Torsten's office. And we can calculate what percentage of our house we use for work purposes and then deduct that percentage of our energy and internet bills.

Plus, Colorado has a really low state income tax (a flat rate of 4.63%) and we are slightly overpaying, so we should get a refund there as well, though it will be a pain to calculate because we'll have to do partial-year payments (or refunds) with Colorado and DC.

So, let's see. Two credits (though one not this year), three types of deductions, and two states. I think this will be the year that we hire an accountant to do our taxes. I can't believe how much more complicated things have gotten since I last filled out that EZ form two years ago. And I am very excited to receive a big check from the IRS next year. Although, of course, we have already mentally spent it ten times over.

If you've managed to make it to the end of this post, tell me: are your finances this complicated? Do you have systems in place? How do you manage it all?

Back from Oz

I hadn't been to a beach house with a big group of people in at least... 10 years? I think? When I was something like 15 years old, my family gave up beach houses in the Outer Banks in favor of Ocean City, Maryland, which was deemed more interesting than OBX thanks to its boardwalk, and also cooler, weather-wise, due to its location further north. And although I can't remember where we stayed in Ocean City, I'm almost certain it wasn't a beach house.

So, yeah. At least 10 years, possibly more. But this year my sister advocated hard for us to all get together (and by all I mean her, her fiancé, his kids, Torsten and me, my parents, and close friends of our family--two parents and their daughters who are like sisters to me, or at least cousins). And after much logistical struggling, we managed it. We found a nice house large enough to accommodate all 12 of us, right on the bay, in a town we all wanted to go to (Cape May, suggested by my sister's fiancé), and we all managed to show up there on the same day and spend a week.

It was lovely. I am quite used to being with just Torsten and Montana, alone in our house, which is very peaceful, so this was quite a change. Two young kids, lots of adults, games being played all the time, always someone talking, food disappearing from the kitchen within two hours of being purchased, giant meals where we had to put every leaf in the dining room table and seriously cram to fit in and the food was served buffet style, never being alone.

And yet, it was remarkably calm. It was surprisingly easy to decide where or what to eat, and often everyone would be out at different places, or all at the same place, and the house would be empty. And the house itself was up to the task--six bedrooms, three of them with private baths, a big dining room, an enormous kitchen, a lovely living room, and best of all a huge deck directly overlooking the bay. Plus, the bay is to the west so even though we were on the east coast, we could see sunsets over the water (full set here):



The only bad thing about the bay is that there were tons of horseshoe crabs, and apparently their mating season ran late this year, so they were everywhere, all in the water and on the beach, stuck together. It was gross and they were gross, and they made us not want to swim in the bay. But the ocean beach was only a short drive away, so we went there and that was better.

So, all in all, less exhausting than I was expecting, and instead just relaxing and so lovely to spend time with family. And I hope that we will do similar things when we have kids of our own. There has even been discussion that some years instead of a beach house, we could rent a mountain house, which would involve everyone coming to us, and which would be amazing. In fact, Torsten and I are thinking of trying to find a cabin in the mountains for a weekend this summer, just to get away a bit and because the mountains are beautiful and amazing and so nearby and so we should take advantage of that.

So yes, a lovely trip and just what we needed, but oh, it's so nice to be home. I missed Denver while we were gone: Montana, of course, and our house and our bed and our quiet lovely life, but more than that I missed the city itself. The weather, and the mountains, but also just the city and the places and parks that we love and the people and the attitude and the smell of it. Denver is starting to really feel like home to me, really feel like my place, really get under my skin, and I love that.

Also, I'm pretty sure that I'm allergic to humidity. Just another reason I was glad to be back. When we got back last night, after picking up Montana from the kennel and eating dinner, we just sat on the back patio, relaxing, while Montana chewed on a bully stick in the yard (if you don't know what a bully stick is, I suggest not looking it up). It was lovely and tranquil and I don't know, apparently I've turned into Dorothy or something, because really, there is no place like home.

Surf and sand

Today after work, Torsten and I are flying back east to spend a week at the Jersey shore with my family. I am very excited about this. Our last real vacation was our honeymoon, back in November, and it was wonderful, but with everything that's been going on since then, I think we both really need another chance to just lie on the beach and relax.

Of course, it will be different--we're staying in a beach house with a bunch of family members, including young children, so it won't exactly be the romantic resort vacation with free drinks on the beach and somebody sprinkling our room with rose petals every day. But it will be lovely, and I think it's safe to say that vacations with my family are MUCH more relaxing than vacations with Torsten's family. And I'm not being rude, because he agrees. In fact, trips to visit his family are more stressful for him than they are for me.

This will be my first trip to sea level since we moved to Denver in February, and while I am not looking forward to the humidity, I am looking forward to the nearby ocean. The house we've rented is right on the beach, and apparently sometimes you can see dolphins swimming by, which I am inordinately excited about.

Plus, it will be nice to have, at least for a week, the hustle and bustle of lots of people around. I haven't had that for awhile, since it's just Torsten and me (and the dog) in our house, and I no longer have an office filled with coworkers, you know? So if Torsten has to spend a few hours getting some work done, there will be 10 other people that I can go hang out with while he does it.

Plus, you know, sand in the toes, sleeping late, no responsibilities, and all the rest. It should be lovely. And it's supposed to be sunny and in the seventies the whole time. I only hope that's true--I've had my fill of afternoon thunderstorms for awhile.

And I don't even feel guilty about leaving the dog behind, because she loves the daycare we board her at--so it's a vacation for her too. Only ours is the restful kind whereas hers is doggy Disneyland, where she'll play all day, every day, and come home exhausted and impossibly smelly.

Basically, it's going to be awesome all around. But things will be quiet around here for the next week or so--I haven't lined up guest posters or anything--and I doubt I'll be posting much. Of course, now that I've said that, it will probably rain all week and I'll have nothing to do BUT write blog posts. (Please don't let me have jinxed our beach weather. Please.)

But yeah. The plan is not to post much, if at all, while I'm gone. This is the only vacation we have planned all summer, so I need to enjoy it to the max. Which means I'll need to get maximize my lying on the beach time right away. Just thinking about it makes me feel all happy and relaxed.

The journey

Two nights ago I had a dream, a very vivid dream that my sister and I were both pregnant and in the hospital, about to go into labor. My sister was a bit closer to labor than I was. She was pregnant with twins and she pissed my mother off by announcing that she hoped both twins would be boys. I didn't know the sex of my baby and thus was incredibly eager to give birth and find out.

It was an exciting dream, a happy dream, and it stuck with me. I woke up with that lingering residue of the emotions of the dream. Even now, a day later, it's still with me. I think it's because I really want to be pregnant. I have to wait, and I will wait, and I think it's best for us to wait, even if I hadn't had surgery.

And I know that there are so many downsides to pregnancy, and parenting, but I, like so many other people, am choosing to dwell on the positive side of things. The excitement, the hope of the pregnancy. What it will be like to announce to my family that I'm pregnant. Picking a name. Decorating the nursery (I'm thinking aqua and yellow). The experience of growing a person inside me, no matter how painful and unpleasant it may be at times. And, of course, giving birth and then having a child, an amazing child.

I try not to think so much about morning sickness, and potential complications, and inconvenient doctor's appointments, and the birth not going the way I'd like, and birth defects, and all the rest. I understand that those things exist, that they're risks, that I will likely experience some of them. I am willing to accept those things in exchange for all the positive things that will come out of the experience. So I choose to think about the positive.

But I have to wait. And so, I will wait. The year anniversary of my surgery coincides with the time we had originally thought about for trying to conceive. We'll have been married for a year and a half. The month of May means that unless the baby is very premature, there is no real risk of a Christmas baby, unless it takes us nearly a year to conceive. The timing, all around, is perfect.

But a year from now feels so far away. And I try to remind myself that it isn't so far, that a year ago doesn't feel so far away, that it's already been a month since my surgery, so only eleven months remain. That time goes by fast. That I love my life as it is right now. That I just had surgery and I need this year to focus on myself, on losing weight, on getting my body into the best possible condition for a healthy pregnancy next year.

I'm a planner, that's for sure, but that doesn't mean that I live with my head in the future. I love to think ahead, to dream and plan and imagine, but I also love what's going on now, and I am fully present to enjoy it. I absolutely believe, as I think most people do, that life is about enjoying the ride, being present on the journey, and not about the destination. Because there isn't a destination, really.

This is what has always confused me about mid-life crises, about people who feel that they can't get married or do X or Y until they've achieved a certain checklist of other things. Not that you can't have a list of things you'd like to do, and a time frame in which to do them. And not that birthdays and aging aren't good reasons to step back and assess your life.

But your life only ends when you die, and most of us have no idea when that will be. There's no stagnating in the meantime. There's no destination at which we're supposed to arrive by a certain age or else we'll miss the boat. There's not an end point that we're supposed to hit by age 50 so that we can spend the rest of our lives idling there.

Everything always moves forward. And I like to think about what will happen as it does. Even if things don't end up working out the way I'd envisioned. I still like to think about what the next stop will be like. Even as I'm enjoying looking out the window along the way.

Small steps, big steps

Yesterday I had my first post-surgery fill, which I wrote about in great detail over at Not a Diet (hint: it was an unpleasant experience). And I also found out that I've lost 25 pounds according to my surgeon's Official Weight Loss Records (by which I mean, my chart). So I'm feeling pretty good about that.

Actually, I'm feeling pretty good in general. Even though I've lost 25 pounds, I've only lost a couple inches from all the usual places (hips, waist, chest). But my clothes fit better, and my face is noticeably thinner. I seem to be losing weight from there first. Which is fine. Good, really. My face was very round and my double chin made me very upset. I mean, it's still there and I'm not exactly in love with it these days, but it's not AS bad as it was, and that makes me feel better.

So yeah. It's just the beginning, but I find that I feel so much better about myself, and I seem to project that. Yesterday while I was walking the dog this guy who was power-washing the street stopped to hit on me. And yes, I'm happily married, and no, I'm not looking for a hot fling with a Denver Water employee, but still. It felt good.

Here's the thing about being hit on by random guys: this has happened to me at every weight, and I've never been thin. It just goes to show, you don't have to look like a model to get hit on by strangers. I think they are more drawn to the way you carry yourself, and the attitude you project.

And that's the thing. I didn't really feel any different, and I was just wearing jeans and a casual tank top, and I wasn't strutting or anything--in fact, I was carrying a bag of dog poop, AND the bag was one of those clear newspaper bags, so you could clearly SEE the dog poop--but I'm just feeling good recently, and apparently it shows just in the way I walk down the street.

And, speaking of walking down the street, I've been walking at least an hour pretty much every day, and the distance that I travel during that hour has vastly increased. I'm walking faster. I'm feeling fitter. I have much more of a can-do attitude. I was excited about the hike we went on this weekend, even if I didn't love the steep part. And I'm excited to go on more hikes on future weekends, even if they involve steep parts too. And I'm actually LOOKING FORWARD to joining the gym, and taking water aerobics classes, and other classes too.

I still have a long way to go--I'm still nervous about the idea of riding a bike, for example--but this is a really fantastic start.

Closet space

One of my favorite little features about our house is the double closet in the master bedroom. Seriously, it's amazing. Actually, one of my favorite features about the house is the massive amounts of closet space in general--a hall closet upstairs and another one downstairs, plus a linen closet and built-in shelves in the laundry room, and a walk-in closet in every bedroom except one, and the one that doesn't have a walk-in closet has two regular closets.

Anyway, yesterday I FINALLY finished unpacking and organizing both of our closets, so of course I had to take photos, both for posterity, because our closets will never be this neat and organized again, and to share with all of you. Because the rest of our house, while unpacked and clean, is not yet decorated, so I'm not ready to share pictures of those rooms with you. So, for now, the closets will have to suffice. And if I do say so myself, they ARE pretty amazing.

In our first apartment, which was a one-bedroom, we actually had ample closet space--a walk-in closet with a built-in shoe rack, a large hall closet, a small linen closet, an extra tiny closet in the bedroom, and built-in shelves in the bedroom. It was more space than I needed, but when Torsten moved in we filled it up. So it was a relief to move to the three-bedroom apartment we first lived in when we arrived in Denver, because we could use the closets in the two extra bedrooms (which we were using as offices) for storage. But still, we pretty much filled them up.

Now, for the first time ever, we have EXTRA SPACE in our closets. There is room for MORE STUFF. This is a thrill to the part of me that loves shopping, I have to say.

ANYWAY. On to the photos! First, Torsten's closet. Which has a WINDOW. This closet is prettier and more spacious, and initially I wanted it for myself, but the reason it's more spacious is because it doesn't have as much storage space, and I have way more clothes (and shoes) than he does, so in the end, practicality won out and he got the prettier space. See?



But you know what? His closet might be more attractive, but mine is so FUNCTIONAL. Just look:


THREE hanging bars. With shelves above, and empty space for shoes below. Seriously. This is heaven.

And yes, that is an entire shelf full of stuffed animals, thanks for asking. Nearly all of them were gifts from Torsten to me. And I can waste space with that stuff, because see the shelf above it? It is EMPTY.


Also, one other area I need to point out: the stack of baby clothes (plus a blanket). I know. There's no baby on the horizon. What can I say? I like polka dots.


Oh, and also? Let's take a look at the shoes. I actually lay on the floor to take this photo, and that's why you can see the shadow of the top of my head in the foreground. Now, I'm no Carrie Bradshaw, but I LOVE being able to arrange my shoes like this. No door-hanging shoe bag required!


So, there you have it. Our closets, revealed. I have nothing left to hide from you guys.

So, now it's your turn. What's your favorite little feature about the place where you live?

Thunder hike

Now that I've pretty much recovered from surgery and have been cleared for strenuous exercise, yesterday Torsten and I were able to resume our habit of hiking on the weekends. But first, on Saturday, we gave Montana a much-needed bath (her least favorite thing ever). This will become relevant in a minute, but in the meantime, check out this adorable video of her drying herself off post-bath. Unfortunately we didn't catch the part where we let her off the leash after her bath and she sprinted straight for the towels and threw herself on them, but it's still pretty cute.



So then, as I said, yesterday we went for a hike. I absolutely love that we live so close to so many gorgeous hikes. I can't believe how close we are to the foothills and the mountains themselves. This particular hike was only a 30-minute drive from our house, straight down basically just one road. And absolutely gorgeous.

It was a nice, sunny day.

Note Torsten's hat and sunglasses. And the dog squinting. Because it was SUNNY.

We left early, because recently we've had thunderstorms every afternoon at around five, and we wanted to hike while the weather was still nice. The sky was clear and the day was sunny and cool. The hike that we took was about three miles long with only one really steep stretch, so a pretty mild way to ease back in to the hiking thing. We took lots of photos of the lovely weather (full set here).

See? The sky is STILL BLUE.

As we were trekking up the steepest part of the hike, we noticed clouds gathering, and by the time we reached the top, a thunderstorm had started. Luckily there was a covered lookout area, so we headed there to wait out the storm and attempt to take pictures of the lightning. Torsten actually succeeded:

Note the DRASTIC CHANGE in sky color.

After a few minutes, the rain died down, so we cheerfully said to ourselves that the worst was over, and headed back down the trail.

Ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaa. About one or two tenths of a mile from the lookout, the REAL storm hit. The wind picked up, the temperature plunged at LEAST 20 degrees, and it started POURING and also hailing. We sprinted for a nearby covered bench, hoping for shelter, but unfortunately the rain was blowing sideways so the roof didn't really help. And we could hear tornado sirens going off nearby, which... well, not so reassuring, you know?

We were both in jeans and t-shirts, and totally soaked, and freezing cold, so we huddled together in an attempt to stay warm and keep our fronts dry, while the poor dog sat all hunched with her head down and her ears drooping, waiting for the torture to stop and occasionally looking at us, probably to tell us that she did NOT appreciate being dragged into those conditions.

When the hail stopped, we gave up on waiting out the rain and just walked the rest of the way in the downpour. It was freezing and we were soaked, but we did feel a bit better when we hit the wide part of the trail and a park ranger drove by. He stopped to ask us if we were okay, and when we said we were, he asked if we'd seen anyone in trouble further up the trail. We said no, but we hadn't been far when the storm started, so he headed further up the trail to check for hikers having trouble.

We slogged through mud and puddles for the last half mile before finally arriving back at the parking lot. Our poor, freshly cleaned white dog was half covered with mud, which means she'll need another bath shortly. And, of course, literally the second we stepped foot onto the pavement, the rain stopped. Seriously. Which, at least, afforded us the opportunity to pull the camera back out:

Note the sunglasses on my head. SO USEFUL.

Also, when we had arrived at the trailhead in the car, we were able to get the very last parking spot when someone happened to pull away. And when we got back to the parking lot, there were only like three cars left. What I want to know is, how in the hell did everyone else know there was going to be a storm? We weren't that far from the trailhead when it started and we still got caught in it. How did everyone else manage to escape the misery?

However, the hike WAS beautiful, and good exercise, and we didn't regret going on it or anything. Besides, the hot shower I took when we got home was pretty much the best thing ever.

New 'do

So, yesterday I bit the bullet and went and got a haircut. And highlights. Since I've never really had highlights I asked for them to be subtle, and the stylist totally understood what I was asking for. She gave me subtle highlights that were just a lighter, golder version of my current hair color, and she didn't do them on the very top layer of my hair. This means that they're a little less obvious, my hair doesn't look striped, and if I want to grow them out or wait six months to have them re-done, I won't get a line of un-highlighted roots.

Basically, they look awesome. I love them and I'm thinking that if I do them again, I might get them done a bit more dramatically. Because I heart them so much that I am pulling back the top part of my hair to expose the highlights more completely.

And she did a great job with the cut. She herself has curly hair, and she totally understands about layering and shaping and avoiding the dreaded triangle-head. She kept the length but gave the hair great shape.

Here I am before the haircut:


And here I am today (straight hair is temporary and will go away tomorrow when I shower):


I have a local stylist I trust again! Basically, I'm thrilled.

On thinking positively

So, a charming anonymous commenter pointed out yesterday that I must be reading some sort of self-help book on affirmations and positive thinking, because here I am talking about how to deal with babies I don't even have yet. I mean, that's shocking! What the hell is wrong with me? Don't I know that maybe I won't EVER have a baby? And even if I do, WHO KNOWS WHEN?

Lovely and upbeat as that perspective is, I have to say that I'm not too concerned about not knowing what the future holds. I don't think it will come as a shock to anybody on this blog that I am a Planner. I like to think about what I want out of my life, and then I like planning thoughtfully and making good decisions in order to make those things happen.

And you know what? In the past, this has worked pretty well for me. I'm living in a house that I love in a city that I love with a husband that I love and a dog that I love. I have a job that I love and I have a working from home situation that I love. I picked the college that I wanted to go to when I was 11 years old--and I went there. I wanted to study abroad, and I did--twice. I could go on, but I think you get the point.

I'm not bragging here, and I'm also not saying that I can take credit for all the good things that have happened to me. I understand that many of these things have occurred due to circumstances out of my control, or due to the inherent privilege of having been born into a life position that allowed me a lot of opportunities. I do recognize this.

But I also think that it's reasonable to say that I had a hand in making a lot of this stuff happen. I am tenacious (some might say stubborn), and if I want something, I do everything it takes to make it happen. If the original plan of action doesn't work out, I find another one, and if that doesn't work out I find a third one. I am not the type of person to consider my options exhausted, pretty much ever. I will keep going until I get it done, if I truly believe that it is a worthwhile thing.

Moving to Denver is a good example of this. Torsten and I had been wanting to move out of DC for about two years before it actually happened. We had picked Denver about six months before we actually moved. The economy sucked, the job market sucked, we had no idea that we'd be able to keep our jobs when we moved, we knew nobody in town, we had never even been to Colorado--but we knew that's what we wanted, and so we went after it. The mindset was, we WILL move to Denver. And many job applications and spreadsheets and Plans B and C and D later, here we are.

So, I have to say that I apply the same thinking to having a child. We WILL have a child. We want a child, I think we'd be decently good at raising a child, we bought a house that's designed for children. There's more than one way to have a child, and while I would certainly never turn into one of those crazy people who kidnaps a child or attempts to steal one out of another woman's pregnant belly in sheer desperation for a baby of their own--my tenacity has SOME limits--I believe and know that someday we WILL have a child, whether or not I give birth to it. Whether we adopt it privately, domestically, internationally, or from the U.S. foster care system. Some how, some way, someday we WILL have a child. And I don't think there's anything wrong with planning ahead for that.

But just in case all this babble about how happy and great my life is hasn't set you gagging yet, let me leave you with a photo of the gorgeous double rainbow we saw yesterday. Because apparently sunshine and rainbows is how I roll.

The perils of being an international family

So, I was reading Devan's post yesterday about the struggles of traveling with kids, and I wrote part of this in a comment, but then it got me thinking about it more, so now it's a post.

I love that our family is international. In elementary school when we learned about immigration, I was always so proud of being a "first-generation American," tenuous as that was for me (my dad was born in England but moved to the US when he was six weeks old). Now that I'm older I recognize the more tangible benefits of his birthplace--namely, my British passport. But our family wasn't really international because both of my parents are, essentially, American. The first time I traveled internationally was, I believe, when we went to France when I was nine.

Obviously growing up I became more international, in that I lived in France and then in Senegal, and I've visited ten different countries and have a list a mile long of other countries I plan/hope to visit someday. But that's just an enjoyment of and interest in going other places. It's not that I myself am international in some way.

I love that our family will be. There are certainly frustrations with Torsten's family living so far away, like the fact that a simple visit to see his parents is expensive and time-consuming and involves a really long flight, but I love that he has a different perspective on things, and I love that our kids will grow up bilingual, used to traveling, understanding of different perspectives and cultures, knowing that there is more than just the US, you know? I think that's awesome.

But OMG, when we flew to Germany last month they showed us the little safety video and it showed a woman holding a small child on her lap. And that made us think about the fact that until kids are two years old (I think), you do not need to buy them a ticket to fly. They can ride in your lap.

I can maybe, MAYBE understand this if it's a short (read: under two hours) flight. But a transatlantic flight? No, no, no. As we sat on the plane, shifting uncomfortably in our small seats, we tried to imagine what it would be like with a baby on one of our laps. The first thing we noticed is that if the person in front of us put their seat back, they could easily crush the baby. And eating dinner? Forget about it. One of us would have to eat while the other held the baby. Then we'd have to switch. But it wouldn't be that easy because those tray tables are only big enough to hold one tray at a time, so after the first person ate, they'd have to wait for a flight attendant to collect their tray, and where would the second person's meal even go while the first person ate?

And how could you sleep? You couldn't, basically, not that I sleep very much on planes to begin with. And you'd have to trade off with the holding because your arms would probably fall asleep. And I doubt the baby would be thrilled about the whole thing (though I suppose that depends on whether it's the kind of baby that likes to be held all the time or not), but there would just be no relief. For nine hours.

And don't even get me started on how horrible it would be to do this with a baby AND a toddler, even if the toddler (presumably) had its own seat. One parent would be engaged in dealing with the toddler, so there wouldn't be as much trading off and maneuvering going on--it would be more like one person would just be stuck with the baby while the other one chased after the toddler. And the idea of traveling with THREE kids? As in, one of us would have to deal with two of them at once? Let me tell you, that idea right there has cemented my desire to have only two children.

I'm just saying, when our flight arrived in Germany last time and we had to circle for half an hour, I was ready to scream. And I WASN'T holding a baby. So basically, we've come to the conclusion that no way in hell will we be flying with a baby on our laps. Which means we will have to drop the $600 or so to buy it its own seat. Which also means we won't get one of those nice little two-person rows to ourselves anymore--instead we'll be stuck in the middle, likely next to some unsuspecting person who glares at us when our baby cries.

Yes, I realize this is all very detailed. What can I say? I didn't sleep much on the plane so there was a lot of time to think about this, and we aren't sure if we'll be going back to Germany before there's a baby in the picture, so it was actually important for us to visualize the scenario while we were in it, you know?

But on the plus side, our kids will have little passports with little baby pictures in them. How cute will that be? I wonder what you do about the signature when the kid is too young to write. Or talk.

Help: Decide what I should do with my hair

So, longtime readers of mine might notice a sort-of trend: every six months to a year or so, I have a mini-crisis about what to do with my hair, and I turn to the blog for help. I know. I'm sorry. But here I am, doing it again.

There are three issues I'm stuck on. I need help with all three.

First: I have a stylist in DC that I love. But I don't live in DC anymore. And it's been six months since I've had my hair cut and it's turning into a shaggy, shapeless mess. And I don't know when I'll be back in DC, but I'm thinking it'll be in three or four months. And I don't want to wait that long. And I don't think I can stick to a twice-a-year haircut schedule indefinitely. But my stylist is great. And nearly every other stylist I've ever visited has been... not great. But I did find a salon here in Denver with a ton of fantastic reviews. Apparently they're cut and color geniuses. But I've heard that before. So, I'm torn. I think I'm leaning toward trying out the new place, and if they ruin my hair then I can go back to my regular guy in DC in a few months to have it fixed. What do you think?

Second: My hair has gotten really long. Normally this pisses me off because it weighs itself down and gets less curly and more frizzy. But with the dry Colorado air, this hasn't been as much of an issue, and once I have a fresh cut with good layers I think it will be less of an issue. So I'm thinking about maybe growing it out instead of cutting it all off the way I usually do. Torsten is a fan of the growing-it-out plan. But, I want more votes. So, here's a picture of me recently:


And here I am with my hair short the way I'm used to wearing it:


So, what do you think? Leave the length for now, just get a cut to shape it, and keep letting it grow? Or cut it all off?

Third: Color. I haven't colored my hair since, I believe, my sophomore year of college, when I got reddish highlights. At the time I was a fan, but I have since revised my opinion based on the feeling that that auburn tint doesn't look so natural. Now that the wedding is over, and I haven't done much with my hair for a long time, I'm feeling ready for some kind of change, and I think color might be it, especially if I go to this new salon where they are allegedly color masters (AND affordable).

If I do color it, I would definitely consult with the stylist on what they think would suit my coloring, but I'm thinking that adding low-maintenance (think two or three times a year for upkeep) lighter (maybe golden-ish) highlights would be fun. When I lived in Senegal I discovered that so much sun exposure caused my hair to get lighter on its own, so I'm thinking that might look a little more natural than the reddish. Here you can see a good shot of my hair color just after I got back from Senegal:


So, I'm thinking something in that direction, but a bit more dramatic without being over the top. Like I said, I want it to look natural, but I also want it to be noticeable. The point is, I want to do something new. Do you think highlights are the way to go, or should I just stick with my natural color?

Basically, I want to do SOMETHING, and I want to do it SOON, but I am stuck on what. So, please, help! Stylist? Cut? Color? I need input!

Hailstones

Yesterday afternoon while Torsten and I were in the car about 10 minutes away from home, it started pouring and hailing. At first we weren't concerned, even though we could hear a tornado siren going off nearby (which is a very scary thing to hear), but then the hailstones started getting bigger and louder, so we pulled into a nearby parking garage and waited it out with about 15 other cars. It didn't last long and when we drove home, the roads near our house were dry. So, we thought the house had missed the storm entirely. Until we saw the giant hailstones in the backyard:


But really, we were lucky, because the siren was for real: there were tornadoes in the area yesterday. Hopefully nobody was hurt.

Also this weekend, on Saturday, we went to the People's Fair in downtown Denver. We took the lightrail to get there, having heard about street closings. We live very near a lightrail station but had never actually taken it before. And can I just say... we weren't very impressed. We were hoping to be, especially since they are expanding the system, but our minds were blown by the sheer ticket prices. The trip from our house to the fair, which would have been about a 15-minute drive, cost $3.50 each one-way. As in, $14 altogether. That's a LOT--that's how much you pay to go from the outskirts of the Virginia/DC suburbs to the outskirts of the Maryland/DC suburbs. And I thought THAT was a lot. If we'd had two kids above the age of five with us, the whole thing would have cost $28.

This infuriates me. Public transportation is supposed to encourage people to leave their cars at home, but when you can park downtown for no more than $5, and often for free, why in the hell would a family drop thirty bucks to take the light rail instead, especially when it takes twice as long? AND, despite the small fortune that you have to pay to ride, they don't take credit cards. So if you want to take the light rail and you're not the type to carry cash with you, you have to plan in advance and hit the ATM ahead of time.

Plus, the trains are tiny, and if you don't live in the transit district, you have to pay for parking at the station. Guess how you do that? Meters? Pre-paid tickets? No no, you PUT YOUR CASH OR CHECK IN AN ENVELOPE, label it with your license plate number, and leave it in a slot for someone to come by and pick up later. What is this, 1930?

OK. Vent over. All I'm saying is, the only time we'll be taking the lightrail in the future is if we're going somewhere with no available parking, or somewhere where both of us would like to drink. Which is really too bad, because with just a few small tweaks, the system would be a lot more palatable and user-friendly.

The other thing we did this weekend was to FINALLY (seven months later) pick out the photos we want in our wedding album and give the info to our photographer. The album was included in the package so we don't have to pay anything for it, so it was just sheer laziness that prevented us from ordering it earlier. We picked all the photos ourselves but we left it up to our photographer's discretion to decide which ones will be in black and white, so that will be a nice little element of surprise when we get the final product. I can't wait to see it.

Lastly, I leave you with a gratuitous (and tragically slightly blurry) dog photo. She loves the car because she associates it with the dog park, so as soon as we go into the garage she follows us. This time I went to put something in the trunk before I let her into the backseat, but she didn't let that stop her:

Cars and books and husbands

So yesterday, Artemisia saved me $400. Because she is awesome. I was going to pay a mechanic to fix our brake problem, but then she told me that her Honda had the same issue. Apparently it's a problem caused by altitude and cold temperatures, and Honda has issued a service bulletin about it. So, I brought the car into the local Honda dealer, they took a look and said yes, that was the problem, and then they told me they'd fix it for free even though the car isn't under warranty anymore. And then they changed the oil for free. So really, I guess you could say Artemisia saved me $420, because I was going to pay the mechanic for an oil change too.

They didn't actually fix the brake problem yesterday, though, so I have to bring it back this afternoon. And it will take three hours, apparently. And I have nobody to give me a ride so I'm going to be stuck at the dealer the whole time. So, I need a new book for my Kindle. Any suggestions? I'm reading Sarah's Key right now, and I like it, but it won't take me three hours to finish.

In other news, Torsten and I are thinking about buying bikes, but I am having a slight weight-related panic attack about that. I wrote about it over here, so please go over there and talk me out of my self-induced paranoia.

And, speaking of Torsten, he comes home tonight! No more nights sleeping in our giant bed without him! Is it bad that several days ago, I picked out an outfit that I know he likes to wear when I go pick him up at the airport? I was going to surprise him with it but I suck at not telling him things, so... yeah, I already told him. And every time something happens to me during the day, I email him to tell him about it, so then when he calls every night and asks how my day was, I have nothing left to tell him. Basically, I'm like a little kid who can't keep her mouth shut.

But lest anyone think that I am ALL sunshine and rainbows, I really need to vent for a second. It's been three weeks since my surgery and I know that isn't THAT much time, but I am so SICK of this stage. Not the food intake--that's going fine. It's the incision that's pissing me off. There are five incisions, but only one hurts, the one where the port is. It doesn't really hurt anymore, exactly. It's more a constant, annoying reminder that it's there. If I twist a certain way, or lie on my left side, or angle my hips wrong, or lean forward in jeans so that the waistband presses against my abdomen--there's a quick sharp pain, a reminder: yes, you had surgery, and no, you haven't fully recovered yet.

So I have to be careful, and I wear a lot of skirts and dresses, and when I go to the gym I'm going to have to be very aware of what my body is telling me and make sure not to do anything that causes pain. Although it's not like I have to be hyper-vigilant about it because the incision is right there in my face, yelling at me whenever I do anything it doesn't like.

It's just hard because I feel like I'm pretty much recovered from the surgery itself, and ready to move on to the next stage, and I'm so close to being there, and this incision is just laughing at me and holding me back. The feeling has become so constant that sometimes I wonder if it will ever go away or if I'll spend the rest of my life gingerly tiptoeing around an inch-long line left of my belly button. You know?

All I can say is, at least I don't have kids right now. I have no idea how women recover from c-sections while dealing with a newborn. Seriously. No idea.

Oh, and speaking of the gym, on the schedule for this weekend: trying out a new gym! It has a pool and it only costs $30/month, so I am seriously crossing my fingers that it doesn't turn out to be a total dump. And I'm going to drag Torsten along with me. It'll be such a nice change from our last apartment gym, which only had one elliptical trainer so we had to take turns.

What are you doing this weekend? And don't forget about those book suggestions! I need input!

Slightly belated spring cleaning

So, I heart Rosie, and also her friend Kath. They were both so friendly and smart and funny and down-to-earth and I really enjoyed dinner and chatting with them. Seriously, they are awesome and I can't wait to get together with them again. I'm finally starting to feel like I have friends in Denver! And plus they are both very much in touch with the whole Denver blog scene so I am looking forward to future bloggy get-togethers.

Plus, it's already Thursday! Today I'm working and tonight I'm thinking about going to see Sunshine Cleaning, and then it will be tomorrow and tomorrow is the day that Torsten comes home! It feels like he's been away forever but it also feels like the week has gone by fast.

Yesterday I also (finally) unpacked and set up my office. The only thing left is to hang up some of the photos and art and my bulletin board, and then it will be ready for me to photograph to send to my boss (who wants to see out of curiosity and niceness, nothing else), and of course, show to all of you! There's even a rug in there, and Montana loves it in there because there's a window that gives her a perfect view into a tree that doubles as a popular squirrel hangout. It's really nice. I'm so glad I can work without being surrounded by boxes.

Also on the schedule for tomorrow: an oil change! And headlight adjustment and brake check. My life is fascinating, isn't it? But I feel so productive when I do stuff like this. And this oil change is way overdue, unfortunately.

The other thing that's making me feel productive is that I finally called our homeowners' insurance company and added my engagement ring to the policy, which means that I can cancel our old renters' insurance policy and get a bit of a refund, which will be nice. Plus, the new policy guarantees that if I lose my ring, they will cut me a check for the appraised retail value and let me use that to choose my own replacement ring. This is a huge step up from the old policy where all they guaranteed was that they would get you a similar ring for the cheapest possible price. AND the new policy is cheaper than the old one. I heart Geico. Even though I don't like their new ads with the pile of money nearly as much as some of their older campaigns.

Anyway, in case you can't tell, I am feeling cheerful and useful, and those are both good things. Perhaps today I'll tackle the master bedroom! It's the last frontier when it comes to not-yet-unpacked boxes. And I can organize the closets as I unpack. I'm such a homemaker! Right?

Strolling

Last night I took Montana for an hour-long walk. Since we have already explored most of our immediate neighborhood I opted to check out the neighborhood on the other side of the main street that divides the two.

It was like stepping onto a movie set. Every house was gorgeous, perfectly maintained, and huge. Every lawn was immaculately landscaped. The streets were silent except for birds chirping. I walked by a house whose owners were clearly throwing a party, judging by the catering van in their driveway and plethora of cars parked outside. As I got closer, I realized that every single car there cost more than a year at a private university. Both sides of the street were crammed with Mercedes, Lexuses, Acuras, BMWs, and Range Rovers. I can only imagine how many carats of diamonds must have been adorning the female guests inside that house.

It was beautiful, especially some of the landscaping arrangements. But it also made me realize that even if we could have afforded a house in a neighborhood like that, I wouldn't have wanted it. It was the kind of neighborhood where I'd be worried to ever let my kids draw with sidewalk chalk, or run half-naked through the sprinklers where other people could see. It was the kind of neighborhood where I could imagine someone coming out and shouting at me for letting my dog poop--even though I always scoop her poop.

Our neighborhood is a bit more of a mixed bag. The houses were all built in the 1960s, and they're all lovely and have lots of potential, but some of them are better maintained than others. Some people have fresh paint and professionally maintained lawns--and others don't. The street has a few potholes, and at the end of it are a few multi-unit rental buildings.

And I like it that way. It's just a bit more eclectic and it feels more natural, more homegrown. I feel like ours is a neighborhood where, if kids played kick-the-can anymore, they could do it in the street and the neighbors would all smile indulgently.

Still, the other neighborhood was definitely breathtaking, and I foresee many more walks there with the dog--and hopefully the husband, once he comes back--in the future.

And speaking of the husband being away, can I just say that I am so impressed with how thoughtful my family and friends are about checking in on me? They know I'm alone and they are calling, emailing, and gchatting constantly to make sure I'm feeling OK and not getting lonely. I almost feel guilty about how good and sweet everyone is being--I mean, it's not like my husband has gone off to war. He's just on a business trip and he'll be back in a few days.

But I do miss him, and I really love feeling like everyone I love is reaching out and taking care of me, even though they all live far away.

Also? Torsten and I have discovered the beauty of Skype video calls for staying in touch while we're apart, and they are great. It is so nice to be able to see his facial expression while we're talking. I feel very lucky to be living in the age of technology.

Tonight, to distract myself, I'm going to get a pedicure, and then I'm having dinner with Rosie. We've been meaning to get together since I moved to town, but I am ashamed to say that it took almost four months and a week of being alone to get me to actually nail down concrete plans with her. But hey, better late than never, and I am super excited. It's going to be great.

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Talking to future kids about my surgery

I've been thinking recently about how to address the topic of my surgery with our future children. I haven't come to any conclusions. In fact, I'm a little stuck.

I have a lot of opinions about the so-called "obesity epidemic" and accompanying panic, the conflation of "fat" and "unhealthy," size prejudice, body acceptance, and how these things all fit together. I've been thinking for awhile about how to address these issues with our kids, or not address them.

I've written about this before, but my basic thought is that I want to encourage--and model--healthy lifestyle choices for my kids, without linking those choices to a concept of weight. If my kids are eating healthy portions of nutritious foods and getting lots of physical activity, that's great. If they also tend toward overweight--which, as much as I hope that they will inherit their body-size genes from Torsten, is relatively likely, given my own genetics--that's not something I want to focus on.

Now, Tess has a Policy about not discussing weight with her kids at all, and I totally understand and appreciate that policy, and intend to adhere to it in a certain way. I do not want to expose my kids to people lamenting their own bodies, or talking about how they'd like to lose weight, or making comments that seem offhand to them, but could really stick with a child who overhears them (such as my mother-in-law charmingly telling Torsten on our last trip--with no factual basis whatsoever--what lazy walruses he and I both are--but we won't discuss my feelings about THAT particular comment).

But given that our kids will likely tend to be on the larger side, in terms of height and also weight, it's not something that we can totally ignore, you know? Because if they are anything like me then they'll be hearing comments about it from their classmates starting around age six. So I think we do need to be prepared to discuss body size and body image, because I imagine that it will come up. And I want to do so in an affirming, positive, respectful way that reminds our kids that everyone's bodies are different and beautiful and also amazing in what they are capable of doing for us.

So what I'm wondering is, how does my surgery fit into all of this? It seems to me that it would be disingenuous not to discuss it with them at all. And I'd kind of like it to be a fact that they've always known, even when they're too young to really understand it, so that it doesn't become a shocking revelation for them later on, the kind of thing that leads them to wonder why I didn't tell them earlier. I feel like keeping it for some big reveal later in their lives makes it seem like something shameful or embarrassing, and it isn't those things and I don't want to give the impression that it is.

Plus, I think my weight loss will be clear to them--at least if they see any old photos, and I assume that they will, unless we're going to hide all wedding photos and all other photos taken before I hit my goal weight, which is not something I plan to do. So the weight loss will be visible to them and I assume they'll have questions about it.

I don't feel any shame about my surgery, and I don't feel that it is hypocritical in any way. I still believe that all bodies are beautiful and useful, and I still wish that our society wasn't so focused on weight, and I still want to disentangle the notions of health and weight. But I feel like these distinctions, and my reasons for surgery, are nuanced in a way that might be difficult to explain to a six-year-old.

I don't know how I can say to a child who might be upset about having been called fat by a classmate, "You are healthy and you are beautiful and your body is wonderful and should be respected," and then also say, "But I had surgery so that I wouldn't be fat anymore." Because the link there is, "You are healthy and my weight was not healthy for me anymore. Being overweight was hurting me in a way that your body size is not hurting you. Your body is different than mine and this is not something you need to worry about, at least not right now, not as long as your lifestyle is healthy."

I feel like that's a bit much for a child to comprehend, and that the takeaway there is that Mom says one thing and does another. That Mom is just SAYING that it doesn't matter in my case but obviously it DOES matter because look at her and what she did to lose weight. That I AM fat and therefore unworthy and the only reason Mom says otherwise is because she's my mother and she has to say that.

All things that I do not want my kid to think. You know? So, like I said, I'm stuck.

Any thoughts on this? Were there any hot-button issues like this when you were a kid, and how did your parents deal with them? If you have kids, how have you broached difficult issues with them?

One is the loneliest number

Yesterday morning Torsten took an early flight to DC for a week-long business trip, the first either of us has had to take since we moved to Denver in February. I got up at six a.m. as well to drive him to the airport. When I got home the house seemed exceptionally empty. I guess since we both work from home it hardly happens that one of us is home without the other--or if only one of us is home, it's him.

As an aside, I'm a little jealous that Torsten is in DC right now, and only because that's where my hairstylist is, and I REALLY need a haircut. My hair is down past my shoulders right now, and while I like to imagine that it's like Keri Russell or Sarah Jessica Parker on one of their good long-hair days, in reality it's just too much. It's not as curly when it's long, and it's hot, and it gets in the way, and it's starting to lose its shape--it really needs some layers. But I have had so many people butcher my hair in the past that I am trying desperately to hold out for my own stylist and hope that there's a business trip to DC in my near-ish future as well.

Anyway, now it's just me and Montana for the week. It feels so cavernous in here. It's one thing to live alone in a two-room apartment--which I loved--but quite another to be on your own in a family-size house. It almost makes me wish I had kids right now so that I would be distracted. Except not really, because then I'd be dealing with kids on my own, and I wouldn't have had the luxury of crawling into bed and going back to sleep for three hours when I got back from the airport.

Yesterday I took the dog to the dog park, organized the dining room, cleaned the kitchen (and I mean REALLY cleaned it), cooked a soft-food-appropriate dish to last for a few meals, sat on the patio reading for awhile, and watched several episodes of Sex and the City. It was peaceful but not anything I couldn't have done when Torsten was here, so it's not like I'm luxuriating in shaking up the routine or anything.

So, OK, I'm trying to make plans for this week so that I'm occupied. I'm doing a pretty good job, I think. So far on the list:

• Lunch with Jeni
• Phone date with my BFF
• Follow-up appointment with my surgeon (does that count?)
• Pedicure (my first since the wedding, I think)
• Doing some unpacking, and maybe some cleaning
• Going to a movie (I'd like to see Up but Torsten wants to see that too so I should wait on that and pick something girly that he would hate... any suggestions?)

Plus, you know, working and walking the dog and all that normal stuff. And sleeping in our giant bed all by myself. (Because SOMEONE doesn't want the dog on the furniture, and even in his absence, I will respect his wishes.)

So, I think it's shaping up to be a decent week. Any suggestions on other stuff I should add to the list?