H. I. P.

I’m not afraid of spiders, as long as they keep their distance. I don’t want them on me. If I find them in my house, I will gently escort them outside, but I cannot kill them. However, I am easily susceptible to the creepy-crawlies. Once, my mom and I were at Utah Lake when we noticed the ground moving. Millions of spiders were zooming all around, and even after I beat a hasty retreat to the confines of my car, I could still feel them crawling all over my skin for hours. So I don’t think I’ll go visit Lake Tawakoni State Park.

I have looked forward to this day with great anticipation for several years, and now that it is here, imagine my surprise as Calvin gets on the schoolbus for the very first time, and I get choked up that my baby is not a baby, and he’s leaving me for the world. (OK, it only lasted for a split second, but I almost shed a tear. And I know that kindergarten is not really the world, but I’m leaving my son’s care and learning in someone else’s hands for 3 hours a day!)

He’s been ambivalent about school. So excited one day, and sour and unwilling the next. This morning he woke up and the first words out of his mouth were, “Mom! I’m going to school today!” Within an hour, he was crying about how he didn’t want to ride the bus, or learn to read, or meet any new friends.

But when we went out to meet the bus, he with his name tag and backpack on, he fairly danced about until he finally spotted the bus. He gave me two hugs and two kisses, and jumped up the steps without turning back. He didn’t even wave to me out the window. And no, I didn’t get a picture of him getting on. Zeeb, on the other hand, shed great tumbling tears that he couldn’t go with Calvin. He kept telling me, “I’m five too!”

Zeeb and Kiki are both asleep now, and I’m terrified to take a nap, because what if I sleep through the time we have to go meet the bus when he comes home? It’s in 2 1/2 hours, but I’ve been know to take amazingly long afternoon naps.

* * *

Ha! I won’t have to take a nap after all. The UPS guy just arrived this second with my copy of this:

To answer Compulsive Writer’s question, cliché, you ask? I think I can top anyone’s meeting-the-husband cliché, especially if you are Mormon. I am from Salt Lake City. I had already been on a mission, and was finishing up my bachelor’s degree at BYU. I had already spent a few too many years in school, and was about to start my Senior year. I met Derek in church. He is from Bountiful. Well, Woods Cross, to be exact, but to anyone who’s not from there, it’s the same thing. And yes, he came to BYU after his mission president told him to transfer to BYU from the University of Utah, in order to find himself a wife. He was 21, but looked like he was 16. He was adorable. When I saw him, I’m pretty sure I leaned to my roommate and said, “I think I need to marry that boy.” To finish the cliché contest, our ward, the BYU 95th ward, met in the Wilkinson Center, in the Cougareat. Right next to Subway. Derek was addressing the Relief Society (the women’s group), as a member of the Elder’s Quorum (the men’s group) presidency. He called us “The Sister’s Quorum.” It was too cute.

Oh wait, there’s more. We got engaged about 6 weeks after we started dating for real, and got married 4 months later. Derek wanted to propose at Stewart Falls, but got lost. He droves us back down to Bridal Veil falls, and proposed there. We reserved a the tower room of the Manti temple right after Christmas, but because Derek’s cousin and grandpa couldn’t climb the stairs and Derek’s mom thought it was too soon, we changed it to the Salt Lake temple right after Valentine’s day. So by the time we were married, we had know each other for 9 1/2 months. I know, I know. It sounds so foolish. And perhaps it was, for Derek. But if you know him, you know I was right to snatch him up before anyone else could get their hooks into him.

Since we got married just before Presidents day, we had a three day weekend for our honeymoon. We took another two days, and drove to Logan and stayed at a bed and breakfast, where Derek discovered spinach-bacon quiche. We got back to Provo in time for mid-terms.

I didn’t want a reception, a bouquet, or a cake, but our moms won out. Since it was the middle of February, we decorated with Valentine’s stuff. It was cute. We had three pink heart-shaped cakes, each a different size, that my brother NungNung decorated. My step-dad hired a harpist, and the reception was at the ballroom at David Gardner Hall, at the U of U.

It was all really wonderful. I still can’t believe my good fortune, finding someone as spectacular as Derek.

*If you want to do this meme, go to CW’s house and get the real questions. You know we all love to read each other’s love stories.

Typing a post on my own computer is like sleeping in my own bed. It’s been so long, but I’m finally home. Ahhhh.

We’ve got almost all of the furniture we need. The loft beds are arriving tomorrow, so the boys won’t have to sleep on the floor anymore. We even bought a desk for our computer, and had the internet installed today. It works. We also bought a cheap TV stand from Target, so we wouldn’t have to stick it on a chair, like we’ve done for the last 6 years. The crappy thing is that it is in the living room, and I’m one of those people who is embarrassed about my TV love. We don’t actually get TV, but we rent the good stuff on DVD and watch late at night, while I knit.

I think I’ve got the ants mostly under control. We had the maintenance guy come today and check the air conditioning, which seemed to shut off if we ran the dishwasher. Which is bad, because I don’t think Derek will ever go back to washing all the dishes by hand again, unless I threaten to never cook for him again.

The maintenance dude said we could seal up the crazy panel in our closet where all the smoke from the downstairs neighbors was coming through. Yucky, old, nasty smoke. We’re gonna shrink-wrap the panel to the wall.

I bought a Dyson. I tried two Hoovers, and they both broke the second I took them out of the box. I’m in love with my Dyson. I find myself looking around the apartment, thinking, “What can I vacuum?”

I put all the cool kitchen stuff in the storage with Henrietta. The Kitchen-aid, the Cuisinart, the blender, the unscratched silverware, lots of stuff. My kitchen is too tiny to do any serious cooking. I don’t even have room for all my spices. I threw some away yesterday, because I don’t use things like sambaar powder often enough to justify it taking up prime real estate.

I went to Costco in Cincinnati yesterday, and not only did they not have ANY good bread like the LaBrea sourdough or Prairie Grain Co. whole wheat that they stock in Orem, but they didn’t have the jalapeño-cheese sauce Derek likes. And I got lost on my way there.

But I already have a friend from church, who has invited me to three things in as many days. I live about 10 minutes from TJ’s. I got a library card the other day, and the library is great. The elementary school is fantastic, and it turns out that almost all the 5-year-olds from church are also in the afternoon kindergarten. At least one is in Calvin’s class.

I’m tired, tired, tired, but almost all the boxes are unpacked and put away. Now I can switch from survival mode to creative mode. Or something.

p.s. Derek was here while the guy installed the internet this morning, and the first thing he did was check my blog. When I got out of the shower, he said, “Wow, you’ve got a lot of nice friends.” Thank you all for your comments, advice, sympathy, well-wishes, and kind words.

We took the upstairs apartment that was cheap, which means storage for Henrietta. Ah, well. The house thing seemed so great, but the owners were totally not ready for renters. That’s a long and boring story. So in the end, Derek and I were so stressed and scared that we decided to take the place he had put a deposit on, just so we would have a place. And so we would not loose the $400. It’s not so bad, except for the smokers downstairs, which, nothing against them personally, but I just have a constant headache whenever I’m at home. And we have ants. And no microwave. But for $700 a month, what can you do?

We can’t hear anything from the outside or downstairs. The air-conditioning works great, I never have a cold draft, nor is it ever too hot. Washer and Dryer! Dishwasher! Those are luxuries that I think I will get addicted to.

And we’ve only had one thing stolen, because Calvin left it out overnight. And I think I’ve lost a couple of pounds from hauling stuff up the stairs. And the local elemantary school is the coolest place I’ve ever been. It’s actually a Primary Village, where there are only Kindergarten and First Grades. They have a cooking classroom.

I’m disjointed because we still have no internet, and I’m at the public library, with a time limit, but at least we have a place to live. Yay! One of these days, I’ll go for a run.

Ah, we’ve been in Dayton for 2 days now, and the house hunting is still going strong. I’ve found a couple of places that seem promising, each with their own distinct benefits. I have to admit that proximity to Trader Joe’s is definitely one of the deciding factors.

One of the places I wrote about a couple weeks ago, when I polled the audience about the more expensive, larger place vs. the cheaper, smaller place, turned out to be a disaster. The 1,500 square feet were completely permeated with smoke from cheap cigarrettes, which is yuckier than smoke from expensive ones, and it was downstairs, and the doornobs weren’t even screwed in tight. I figure, if they don’t even care about the doornobs when showing an apartment to a potential renter, they won’t care about things like ceiling leaks and oven explosions. Not that I’ve exploded a lot of ovens.

So anyway, it comes down to an upstairs place that’s $700 a month, 20 minutes from work on a good day, and in a heavily commercial area. Lots of mall-type stuff nearby. Yuck. Or a $1200 place that’s 2,100 square feet, upstairs, has white carpets throughout, but a cute brick exterior, nice neighbors, close to the school and TJ’s, big basement, but now way to get the piano in, and a house in a quiet residential area, 2 blocks from an elementary school, $850 a month, one level ranch (easy for the piano- yes Elizasmomsmom, we brought Henrietta, sorry I haven’t replied, but internet access has been scarce-I had to fix the hotel’s computer just now-  and I’ve been swamped).

I haven’t seen the house yet, but I have an appointment tomorrow morning. Any suggestions? Actually, I don’t imagine I’ll be able to check my email before then. Just send my happy thoughts and prayers and whatever you can do to alter the cosmic influences that can get us a good place to live. Or I may cry.

For all of you who are not related to me by blood, I’m sorry, but this will make no sense to you. For those of you who are, cheers.

I’m goin on a trip to Heber and I’m taking my accordion, my Nabisco crackers, my sleeping bag, my goobers, my stand-up comedy kit, my Tahitian Treat 24-pack, my killer tree tape, my effervescent tablets, my sister’s swimming suit, my tasty Fig Newton, my nimbus, my solar-powered automobile, my egg costume, my epilepsy medicine, my eccentric family, my Yanni CD, my disco shoes, my slippery sandals, my Spock mannequin, my nappy rotten banana, my anabolic steroids, my Stradivari, my irritating blister, my right-on-feelings-of-brotherly-love, and everything else.

1. Patty
2. Paul
3. Liz
4. Mike
5. Barbara
6. Greg
7. Isaac
8. Camille
9. Sarah
10. Dave

Mom, you’re making nonsense.

Oma, I love you, I’m just not interested in you.

I want some Saag Paneer!!!

Mom, I can’t put my underwear on. I have a smiley face on my butt that’s wet.