But Does it Come in Beige?

Alrighty Alrighty.  We landed in Utah County and it is everything you might imagine it would be, had you ever spent any time around Provo.  There are a lot of positives.  You might expect the people to be weirdo Utah Mormons (the type who shower with their g’s on and shake their heads at any non-standard appearance or behavior) but in reality they are just too nice to dislike in any way.  Good people in Utah County.  They’re friendly, welcoming and helpful.  I like that they all have more than two children, lack any pretentiousness, and they are usually busy with their family who likely live in the same town.  The lifestyle makes sense.

And it’s the easy life.  Parking as far as the eye can see.  Every single chain restaurant your heart could desire.  Costco, Home Depot, Lowes, Target AND Wal-Mart, all within a few blocks of one another.  The biggest (seriously, outrageously big) Smith’s grocery you ever did see.  I can’t even go there because it’s too big to walk through.  Maybe with a Lark. 

One of the infinite trendy chain joints, this one I happen to love.  Swig makes soft drink mixes for like a buck.  It’s the Shave Ice of this year.

It’s a ten minute commute for Hush, which is what brought us to this area.  The school is relatively close and highly ranked.  We haven’t found a preschool yet.

The movers. 

There is nothing wrong with this area.

But it just doesn’t feel right.

It was Hush the other day who really nailed why both of us have felt so antsy in the last 10 days.  It’s the sterility and the floor plan.

First: Floor plan. 

The way this house is designed the heart of the home is the TV.  The bedrooms are on one end, all three together like we almost all share one room.  The far side is the kitchen, next to the laundry (basically my office.)  And between the two ends is the living room where we currently have our TV set up.  We’ve never had cable before, but I decided that since I didn’t know anybody and I was going to have a tiny baby cooping me up all the time, I might as well take the plunge and get cable.  It is absolutely worthless.  We have thousands of channels and the whole thing is just beyond me to the point of being annoying. 

In our previous house the TV (Netflix and Hulu) was downstairs.  Hush and I spent most of our evenings in the kitchen and in the front room where all of the instruments were, or outside on the hammock or on the front porch.  The TV was an afterthought.  It was never on.  And the product of that sort of face-to-face interaction was musical creations and sync dancing and mirror motion conversations and all kinds of other weirdness that I have recorded on my other computer.  TV prevents love.  Boredom promotes it.

Look at the half-mast TV eyes.  Oh, and when you’re really pregnant it’s good to have your four year old insist upon laying on your tummy.

Perhaps we could move the TV downstairs or turn off the cable.  Maybe just restructuring  will make it feel more like our family house: a creative by default type of environment.

Second: Sterility.

Newer suburban developments are sterile and generally unimaginative.  The yards are unique and people bring their personal décor and style, but I really like neighborhoods with a greater diversity of homes.  I don’t understand why builders make developments in beige.  And how does one go about buying one of these homes?  How do you pick between one beige home or another?  What goes into the selection process?   Now, I know that 95% of America lives in developments not unlike the one we find ourselves in at this time, but I wonder WHY are the developments built in this particular way?  (With the exception of Daybreak, which may be exactly what we want.  It’s impossible not to fall in love with the quaintness of Daybreak.)

I drive around this area with this song running through my head:

“Little Boxes” by Malvina Reynolds, 1962

http://youtu.be/2_2lGkEU4Xs

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,¹
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

Now if there WAS a pink one, I’d be in like flynn.  But they are ALL BEIGE.

And on every corner, more development.

But oh, the models.  I LOVE those. 

So here we are for the time being.  Good people, good schools, an overall environment where we could get sucked into TV and beige and become totally okay with that.  Perhaps we will stay forever, but maybe there are other horizons for us.

Maybe my little house box will be number 67,

Or maybe our little box will be the second storey in the gray building with the red shutters.

There’s just so much world out there.  Wherever my family is we will have to figure out how to retain our color and our eccentric hobby nights at home.

Can't Won't Don't and other contractions too.

At the hospital 33 weeks pregnant trying to stop these silly contractions.  

After two weeks of nightly contractions that I refused to acknowledge as being anything more than Braxton Hicks, my doctor gave my tensing belly one poke and sent me off to the hospital to be monitored.

This on the tail of a maelstrom drive back from CA with Pam, barreling into our new home at midnight last night.

Once at the hospital things just rollercoastered.  Worse contractions then medicine to stop them that made them really hurty and made my heart race and teeth chatter, etc.

Did I mention I had all three kids with me, of course?  They were excellently behaved, Mimi especially.  Hush showed up after work and took kids for food an errands.  The nurses have to tell him everything they tell me bc he doesn't trust me to obey medical advice if I find it inconvenient.

The tests say there will be no baby tonight and that is good.  This kid needs to cook another month.

Hopefully I will be able to go home tonight and we will all find a place to sleep amongst the moving boxes that currently fill the home Hush found for us. Many many thanks to those of you who helped us move; and apologies for having an inadequately prepped home. We locked in the house on Friday and had to move the next day.  More about our new situation when I stop contracting.

Summer 2014 Overall

On our radio:

Elvis hunka burning love

Johnny cash I walk the line

Beatles hey Jude, live on Ed Sullivan 

Green day basket case

Creedence down on the corner 

Andrea boccelli funiculi funicula

Mimi learning to skate

Some of my girls at Keys on Main for baby shower

Activities:

Trafalga Fun Center

Pass of All Passes 7 Peaks Waterslides

Any pool with a waterslide or water play equipment (Jude and Mimi swim, Silas is just barely water safe)

Library, nearly every day

Walking through model homes

Going to Savers

Hush's birthday in June, celebrated with BBQ in early June before disaster struck

Mimi started piano lessons, Jude started guitar

Sitting on the couch gestating

Amazing baby shower in SLC

Hanging out with Kara's lovely girls

Kids play down in the toy zone basement

Jude got a new bike, Mimi is learning to rollerskate

Baseball at Eccles for all three in July

Went to see the Tempest with Kim

So hot and uncomfortable at baseball

The man himself of his birthday (we were in CA :(

For Eats:

Shave Ice

Swig flavored drinks

Jdawgs

Cookie butter with apples

Quesadillas and Grilled Cheese Sandwiches

IHOP

At the Herriman rodeo with Kara

My incorrigible lovely neighbors whom I already miss terribly

People we see:

The SLC Wilson friends

B. heights friends

Farm family cousins

Dville Cousins

Each other. A lot of three kids together time for months on end.

Houdini one time, for 24 hours. 

Hair matches popsicle

Sisi at a magic show with Amy

For watching:

Maleficent 

Lego Movie

Hush and I watch Drunk History

Cable TV that has nothing good on at all ever.

iPad games

Mimi gets her first bank account and (prepaid) credit card

Hair as of today

For reading:

Rereading Philippa Gregory's historical fiction

Red Tent 

Jude reads books about bears

Silas likes monster books

Mimi reads anything about fashion and being fancy.

Sweet affectionate Si

The menfolk of Cousin's posse, all of whom I couldn't like more.

Travel:

Az for family reunion in May

Dville most of June

Various hotels throughout Utah (including Provo and Holladay) in July

Down to St George for a weekend

Back to Dville for two weeks in July

Hush moved us in to new house at the beginning of August

Hush to NY and Az in August

Getting his last youngest kid snuggles in before baby comes

Getting his snuggles in before he's ousted by his offspring

Things take up space in my brain:

Baby growing

Overwhelming adoration and gratitude for Hush

Trying to not do anything physical

Indebtedness to friends

Shuffling money around to cover moving and hotels

Avoiding preterm labor

Trying to pick a place to buy a house

Dealing with Houdini's unreliability

Planning for new baby

Assembling baby supplies

Names names names!

Planning sealing hopefully in September

Feeling more pregnant than I look

Unsealing letter received!

Learning what the church is like in Utah County

Devising a school schedule and preschool for Silas

Registering kids for new schools

Figuring out new auxiliary activities for kids

Jude's new shirt that he prizes above all else.

The Never Ending Arena

At dawn I was awakened by a child's panicked sprint to the bathroom so she could find a place to vomit.  The bathroom was locked because yesterday, in keeping with this summer's theme, the toilet had become clogged and overflowed.

That kid made it to the garbage can and the next came staggering into my room with barf all over his face and hair, "I barfed on my bed, mama." 

And so it goes.

Last week we made some offers on houses, none of them worked out.  During the weekend we took an overnight break from the last three weeks of house hunting and went to St George to see the Little Mermaid, tickets we'd had as gifts for Christmas from Hush. 

 It was a much needed respite (though it was 103) and we also stopped at the Fillmore hot springs as per our tradition.

But on the way home we were again confronted with our interminable homelessness and I started weeping. I just do not want to start all over again.  Sure we could find a place that's too small for a bunch of money, but there goes my kid plan for next year and see you later to the last year of investment in friends.  We've moved every year.  More packing, another change of schools, another preschool search, a new ward to trick into thinking we're normal, friends that will not measure up to my adored neighborhood friends. Forced change.

So down came the tears.

In the words of Wayne Campbell, "What the hell is going on? I lost my show. I lost my best friend. I lost my girl.  I'm being shit on, that's all, shit on."

After our five hour drive from St George on Sunday my sweet wise husband banished me from Utah until he finds us a house and moves us in.  He loaded us all back in the car at 7 at night and drove us 12 hours to Dville. 

And six hours into the drive Jude barfed all over himself, no warning and no bag.  Hush looked at his watch and said,"Right on schedule."  Then Jude barfed seven more times apparently unaware of the utility of a plastic bag.  Poor sick boy trapped in the car. Poor all of us getting covered in vomit.

We arrived at 6am and put Hush on a plane at 10.

Then somebody overflowed the toilet yesterday and today more barfing.

None of this is funny yet. Of course we could play the at least game (at least my husband is wonderful and supportive and doesn't ditch us, at least we have sufficient funds, at least we have working air conditioned cars, etc) but any way you slice it this forced move at 8 months pregnant sucks. And I am ready to be finished with the compounding series of unfortunate events.

Edited: Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's just Tuesday in Nor's life."

As for attitude, I'm also done being positive as I generally am during my biannual life crisis.  Not all of them have been blogged, but literally every six months I am slammed with a random and unnecessary trial.  I think I might be cursed. I set up and plan for a simple life and the rug gets pulled out.  Things improve and I think finally, finally we are out of the trials crosshairs and then the bottom drops out.  It's getting to the point where I'm nervous to get out of bed in the morning.

I wrote bit of prose during my previous crushing life blow. It seems to apply every six months.  If you're wondering how I manage these challenges, the answer is I just wake up every morning. I don't have any choice but to live through this.  Anger, yes. But mostly resignation.

The Never Ending Arena

I guess I'll stand in the arena

I'll be there standing in the cold

With weather beating on me

And yes, it's getting old

I'll watch as I'm encircled 

By the lions and the wolves

I'll stand there solo, if I'm bidden

Stand there naked, stand there clothed

My oar will be thrust deepest

I'll be in up to the hilt

My hands they will be messy

My body gone full tilt

It'll rain until I'm soaking

My heart buried by the jeers

Trip and fall as usual

I long gave up on tears

But still I'll be recipient

Of another deadset blow

Designed to push me lower

Unnumbered sly arrow

And though my spirit sinketh

And my body begs give in

I still stand up each morning

I still seem to begin

Because the next day always wakens

The first light a disappoint 

That the end of trouble isn't 

That I'm still here in this joint

Perhaps because I will it

The dread fight lingers on 

My unsinking spirit drowning

In this arena I've made home

Brought low each passing season

With another arrow's sling

The next wave of of misfortune

And my ever living being.

Dear Life, I demand you take these lemons back!

This is what our basement looks like now:

This is just the beginning stages. The rest of the drywall is coming out too, in all the rooms.  Right now all of our furniture is crammed in the kids' rooms.  We can't access it even to pack downstairs.

We were out of town for three weeks and then in hotels for about two weeks. Right now we are staying at a ward friend's house for a few days.

The official word on our house is that we have to move out permanently. It won't be fixed for months.  I was hope hope hoping they could get stuff figured out and we could move back in and go on with our lives, but nope. God doesn't like that plan.

Every time I go near that house I cry and cry. It was the first house in my life as a parent where we had a complete happy family.  It's ripping my heart out having to pack up all those memories because the carpet was ripped out from under us.  The kids are being troopers, but it really is tragic as far as I can see right now.

So we are hunting for a house. We have to move south. That palatial blue house is near where we're looking, but every iron we put in the fire is coming out cold.  It's very frustrating and stressful.  Every day is like "Yay! Our house problem is nearly solved" and then "Just kidding, back to square one."  Every day is one day closer to a baby coming and every day we don't have a contract signed is another day of stress. 

And then there's the pregnancy.  I'm 32 weeks.  Oh, and it's 100 degrees here so tack that on to "things that will make a pregnant woman want to lay down and die".

Seriously, can I just have ONE normal year? One pregnancy without major life upheavals?  I am an ace at trials, but frankly this one is putting me over the edge of misery.  Yes, I have a thousand blessings but I am 8 months pregnant in 100 degree heat with three hot, tired children, and no foreseeable home in sight. Give me a freaking break. Enough is enough. I have done my super hard trials year after year and had a good attitude.  This is just uncalled for.

Even my body agrees: last night I was laid out with straight up hurty contractions every five minutes for three hours. I nearly went to the hospital but I was just so frustrated that I passed out.