Haiku Friday #17: Generosity

My husband is in
The middle of his student
Teaching semester.

The head of his school's
English department bought four
Dress shirts in his size

So that he may have
Something nice to wear for job
Interviews this spring.

He said, "I've been broke
Before. I know what you are
Going through right now."

All he wants? That he
Pays it forward to someone
In need, when he can.

Wow. Talk about generous. This man has only met my husband fairly recently (within the last month or so), and he doesn't spend much time with him. But he saw fit to reach out and help us with something that could mean the difference between twice and more than three times our income next year. Those dress shirts are nice.

My father-in-law bought my husband a suit a few months ago to wear to interviews, too, so provided a job exists and Brandon is qualified for it, he may just get it. His dad also agreed to lend us the money for the PRAXIS test as well.

All this is really a lot off our minds. We were supposed to get our tax refund last Friday, but the date was changed to next Tuesday for some reason. That was a huge blow, considering that several bills are coming due in that time -- or have already. We're also looking at trying to pay off some that have gone past due with this rather large chunk of change we're expecting in the mail.

Yeah, preschool teachers? We don't make enough to support two adults and a toddler -- even with government help. And regardless of whether my husband is able to find a job with benefits after he graduates in May, we will lose our government health insurance in October. Why? Because apparently, eight dollars an hour is too much money, and in October our twelve months of "transitional assistance" with medical costs will end. But at least our son will get to keep his until we make about twice that.

But with help from our friends and family -- and the recent warm front -- it feels like we can conquer almost anything.


To read more haiku or to play along, check out A Mommy Story.

New York, New York

Last weekend (February 6-8, not Valentine's Day) we had our seconnd-ever family vacation. Well, sort of.

Our first-ever family vacation was more of a long weekend. We were still living in Boston, my son was about 6 weeks old, and my aunt-in-law Krystie, who lives in New York, wanted to see the baby us before we moved back to Ohio. She bought us Amtrak tickets there and back, and we took the very pleasant 4-hour train ride to Manhattan.

Adam slept much of the time while on the train and while in the city. We went to an art gallery and saw a glass blower, had dinner in a few very nice restaurants (between my husband's 22-dollar lobster platter -- which included an entire lobster, several mussels, shrimp, scallops, and clams over pasta -- and his uncle's cooking, we ate very well). Krystie took me shopping, and Brandon and I had our first post-baby date at a Mexican restaurant where they made the guacamole right there in front of you.

This time was another long weekend, and it wasn't exactly a vacation for my husband. Our friend writes for MovieWeb, and they wanted him to attend the New York Comic Convention. He needed someone to film the interviews, so my husband obliged. It worked out for all of us: Brandon got to go to the convention, Aaron got free lodging with us at Krystie's (and half the price of gas), and Adam and I got a vacation.

We drove up on Thursday with the help of the TomTom. Apparently there's a difference between 17th Street and East 17th Street, and we ended up lost in Brooklyn at 1:30 AM. Overall, though, we made pretty good time and the baby slept most of the way there.

Friday the guys went to the convention. Krystie was working, and Dan (her fiance -- the "uncle" I mentioned before) was running errands, so it was just Adam and me all day Friday. And he decided to take a four-hour nap -- he was exhausted from the trip. So I got Friday afternoon all to myself, to watch a movie, take a nap . . . and paint. My. NAILS!!! I haven't done that in about 2 years. Every time I find myself with free time at home, I use it to clean or read other blogs. With no such distractions in NY, I spent four hours pampering myself.

Saturday we took the baby to the library, where they had a children's play area. A five-year-old boy played hide-and-seek with him, and brought him blocks to stack. Then we went for a walk, saw a film crew, and Krystie and I had lunch while Adam fell asleep in his stroller.

That night my husband came back from the convention around 9 o'clock, so Krystie took me out to meet her coworkers at a birthday party. We went to a really nice bar, where I had the best chocolate martini of my life and a great time chatting, dancing, and playing terrible pool.

Sunday we drove home, and Aaron gave Adam a stuffed Venom doll he had bought at the convention. He giggled and immediately started chewing on it. It's the cutest little scary thing you've ever seen.

Really, though -- one of these times, we're going to have to go to New York when it's not winter (although it was actually quite pleasant last weekend) and actually stay for a week or so, and, oh, I don't know, maybe even do a little sightseeing.

Where did you go on your last family vacation? Ever been to New York? Feel free to comment.

Holiday Realities

Another Thanksgiving come and gone. I was thankful for the 24-hour break between feasts, especially with the added perk of helping an infant feed himself this year -- all I had to worry about last year was third-trimester heartburn.

But it was a great extended weekend, overall. We ended up not going to Mass on Thursday, as I was feeling sick and actually spent most of the day on the couch. Dinner wasn't until a little after 5 o'clock -- we had to wait for my sister's boyfriend. He was supposed to be there sooner, but he was hunting. Seriously? Nothing against hunting or anything, but we were all sitting down at the table, ready to start eating at least 10 minutes before he decided to grace us with his presence.

My son made everybody laugh, first by offering my husband some of his mashed potato-cranberry mess, and later when he had two pieces of turkey sticking out of his mouth and my grandmother said he looked like a walrus. My dad then responded by mimicking the Sesame Street character The Count: "One, two, turkey bits! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

Friday morning we slept in and ended up leaving for Cincinnati around 11:30. The baby slept the whole way there. We spent the afternoon hanging out with my father-in-law, who was installing his new stereo system for his gigundus flat-screen, hi-def tv. My husband's grandmother cooked the dinner, which was wonderful, of course. She -- and her whole family -- is from New Orleans, and she used to teach culinary arts. I relish any opportunity to eat at her house. Cousin Jody entertained the two little ones (mine and his cousin Zoe) with a laser pointer while the adults had after-dinner drinks.

Saturday we spent with some friends we went to college with. They took us out to lunch and talked about her dad's refusal to pay for their modest wedding and his mom's insistence on including items such as lavish centerpieces for their reception. We caught up on local gossip. At six we went to Cousin Jared's engagement party. It was great -- everything I would have wanted, had it been mine. Well, maybe minus the kids. My son, his cousin, and my brother-in-law's daughter were all there and under the age of three (my brother-in-law's "daughter" is actually his girlfriend's daughter, whom he was caring for while she was at work). And there was a pregnant couple there -- but that's a bit different. Jared asked me if I had any advice for them. I said, "Be prepared for anything." I couldn't think of anything wiser or more eloquent at the time. I should have said, "Get a Pack 'N' Play." That thing would have saved us so much grief when we tried to put the baby down for naps in strange beds this weekend.

Sunday we watched Star Wars: Episode III and the Bengals game (yikes). My father-in-law sent us home with his grandmother's Christmas tree and our tray-table set that we apparently forgot to move out of his basement with all the moving we've done over the past few years.

All in all, it was a great weekend. Very festive and fun. The single worst part was going home with all the traffic and torrential rain to several piles of laundry. But we made it a bit better by listening to "The 12 Pains of Christmas".

Holiday Plans

Ah, Thanksgiving: the time of year when we stuff ourselves fit to burst, pass out in front of the television, and then wake up at 3:45 AM to get that great deal on a new vacuum cleaner. All while avoiding Aunt Margie's smothering hug or cheek-pinching icicle fingers.

Most years since my husband and I have been together, we've attempted to have Thanksgiving dinner with both families -- mine, in Columbus, and his, in Cincinnati (for those of you who aren't from around here, they are about a two hours' drive apart). And every year, our families have set dinner for the same time or an hour apart. I was mad: at my husband because we always ate dinner with his family first (and therefore ate more with them), and at my mom for not working out a different time for ours -- seeing as it was at our house.

Last year I was on bedrest and we lived in Boston. One of my husband's friends from BU was kind enough to invite us over for dinner. Her husband was a great cook, and they would have been alone for the holiday too, if not for us. They had a car and came to pick us up so I wouldn't violate my bedrest orders.

This year will be a little different. We'll attend Thanksgiving Mass, since we'll be out of town on Sunday. Dinner today will be at my parents' house, and it will be small, as it's been since my grandmother stopped hosting due to my unruly cousins. My mom, dad and grandma (maternal) will be there, as well as my sister and her boyfriend (who will have eaten at his house already -- my mom is so mad). My dad's sister and her husband will be there, and of course my husband, son, and I will too. And that's it.

Tomorrow we'll drive to Cincinnati and have Thanksgiving dinner at my grandma-in-law's house. She's been talking about doing a Friday dinner for a few years, so all her children can see their in-laws on Thanksgiving day. This year, she's going with it. We expect to see my father-in-law, his fiancee, her six-year-old from her previous marriage, my sister-in-law, brother-in-law, and at least two of their aunts and their families (the third lives in New York).

Then on Saturday, we'll meet up with a couple friends of ours in the area, since we haven't seen them in about six months. That evening, my husband's cousin will be having an engagement party. It was supposed to be Labor Day weekend, but he got called back to New Orleans because of the hurricane. He's a firefighter, and he lives there now, since he went to Tulane for school.

Overall, it should be really busy but a great time. Yay for food!

Busy Weekend

...but still good.

Thursday night (yeah, I know; not exactly the weekend, but I promise it's related): After work I went straight to my (mostly) weekly therapy session. I think the therapy is helping, but I really need to get in with a family doctor to get back on antidepressants. I say "a" doctor because I still technically don't have one, exactly. Since we moved back to Ohio, we've searched for a doctor closer than 30 minutes away that takes our insurance. Until a few weeks ago, we had been unable to find one -- in 7 months, people! Now I'm just waiting for the insurance company to send me a new card: the doctor we found won't schedule an appointment with anyone until her name is on the insurance card, which of course takes 7 to 10 business days to get changed... blah blah blah. Crossing my fingers that the card comes soon.

After therapy I picked up my son and we went to JoAnn Fabrics. Brandon and I had been talking about what he would be for Halloween since last Halloween: Superman. We considered all the superheroes (we're geeks, remember?), and we settled on Superman (or -baby, as the case may be) because he doesn't wear any kind of mask or hat-type thing. Babies hate things on their head, so it's perfect, right? I wasn't sure whether to sew or buy, since I found a really cheap one online, but he was kinda in between the infant and toddler sizes. So I will sew. And I have since decided that I must be a crazy person little ambitious -- Halloween seems a lot closer from this side of the weekend. It's happened before. It'll probably happen again.

Friday afternoon Brandon got a call from Aaron and Christina, who wanted to know if we would like to go see Celtic Thunder Sunday night. An hour later, my sister-in-law Abby called about possibly visiting this weekend and offering to babysit so we could have a date. Amazing how things come together like that.

Saturday Brandon went to pick up Abby from OU (she's in her first freshman quarter there) while Adam and I picked up the house. Or rather, I tried to clean and simultaneously tried to keep Adam out of the cat food. Since he's discovered his mobility, he likes to dump their food bowl onto the floor. Sigh. At least he doesn't eat it.

We went to my mom's house for the OSU game as usual. Abby, Adam, and I fell asleep. After the game we went to Target so Abby could get some new clothes for school. It was really nice to get out of the house and not go to the grocery store, work, or a movie. Plus, Brandon and I got to play "personal stylist," which we love. We love to watch Project Runway, I like What Not to Wear on occasion, and we enjoyed both Queer Eye for a Straight Guy and How to Look Good Naked while they were on. But we don't have much money, so we like to shop for other people, like our sisters.

I worked on Adam's costume a little over both Saturday and Sunday. So far, I've cut out the pieces for the "S," the onesie, the cape, and half the pants. Still have the other leg of the pants, the red underwear thing, and the belt to cut out. Then sew it all. I may or may not do the additional yellow "S" on the cape. We'll see how much time I have. I'm definitely not sewing boots -- Abby bought him a pair of red socks.

Sunday we watched the Bengals game, I did a ton of laundry, and Abby looked for some poster- board and her own Halloween costume. Then Brandon and I went to Aaron and Christina's house before the show.

We took one car to save on gas and parking, had a nice, brief dinner, and went to the Schottenstein Center for the show. Parking turned out to be free (the tickets were, too, but we knew about that -- Christina knows someone who got us the tickets), but the seats were kinda tiny and the auditorium was really warm and stuffy. Other than that, it was fantastic!

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Celtic Thunder, they are an all-male, 5-piece Irish band with a wide range of ages (16 to 41), tones of voice, and singing styles. They are accompanied by a slew of very talented instrumentalists, as well. You may have seen their show on PBS. They are all excellent performers -- they sing with choreography, although the singing is much better by far. My husband's only complaint about the show is that most of the music isn't Irish. I didn't mind so much -- men that sing well are HOT. (My husband knows I think this, and he knows I like his singing. So why doesn't he sing very much?)

Today it was back to work for me, and as well as I've handled being away from the baby so far, the first thing I thought this morning when I got there was how much I missed him.

Surely, you must be joking...

*****RANT WARNING*****

We recently bought our friend's car. Today we went down to the BMV to get the title taken care of, since his birthday was on Monday and the plates are now expired. I should probably mention that this was the second (and not final) visit on behalf of this particular car. Let's not forget the three times I went earlier this summer because of my old car.

Oh yes, my friends, this is a story about bureaucratic bullshit.

Let me back up a bit. I have owned my 1993 Nissan Altima for 5 years. Back when my husband and I were first dating, it was the nice car -- his had a broken speedometer, among other things. And really, for a 10-year-old car (even a 10-year-old Japanese sedan), it was in great shape. A few years later, my husband bought a 2002 Mazda Protege. So then that was the nice car. Fast forward a few more years, and we were planning to move to Boston with my newly discovered fetus. On a trip from Columbus to Cincinnati (where his dad lives), the Nissan started making funny noises. We were planning on leaving our cars here while he did a year's worth of grad work (would you want to pay for Boston insurance and a parking spot a quarter-mile from your tiny apartment, and oh yeah, have I mentioned Boston drivers are INSANE?). So we just figured we'd leave my car at his dad's house instead of his car, and in the meantime, my mechanic brother-in-law could look at it.

Long story short (yeah, I know, not that short), we decided my car was no longer fit for transporting an infant. We moved back in February and bought our friend's car with the intention of selling mine soon. It's taken us this long to sell my car, for about 30% less than what we wanted for it. The economists who say we're not in a recession can bite me. In the meantime, the tags expired in June because they were still in my mom's name -- she had turned the title over to me, oh, the weekend before we moved. No time to get new plates then. And because we live in an apartment, any car with expired tags gets a notice. Apparently people abandon cars in these parking lots? If you say so.... So I had to pay for new tags, despite the fact that we had already spent 4 months trying to sell it, all the while not driving it. And then I had my birthday three weeks ago. Another year's worth of tags. And then we sold the car, and they wanted more money from me to turn the title over to the person who bought it! WTF? They already get fees from the buyer, what the hell do they think I am, made of money?

Things must be simpler now that we've sold that car, right? Ha. So my husband goes to the BMV a few weeks back to get the title for the Hyundai (our friend's former car) turned over. Chad had signed the title and mailed it to us, since he lives in Cincinnati. My husband said he'd need to get it notarized, too, because it says right there on the title that that's what you have to do. They argued about it, and Chad insisted he was right. So Brandon took the title in, and guess what? They told him it needed to be notarized. We mailed it back to Chad, who took his sweet time getting it notarized and sent back to us.

So now we're caught up to today, thinking that nothing else could possibly go wrong. Why do we even bother? The lovely ladies at the title agency tell us that we still cannot finalize the sale of this car. (See the title of this post). "The car belongs to your friend and his wife. We can't turn the title over without both of their signatures. You can try going next door to License Services for a 30-day temporary tag so you don't get pulled over." Where they tell us that no, they cannot do that, because it would be illegal. Furthermore, we cannot put my brand-new license plates on this car, because those plates are only in my name, and not in both our names. Bite me. They might as well create a robot to do these people's jobs for them, because we would get just as much compassion from it.

We are now blessed with the privelege of sending back the title, having Chad's wife sign it, get it notarized, send it back, go back into the title agency, and try not to develop depression and ulcers in the process.

And all I could say to Brandon was, "When can we move to Canada?"