Monday, May 11, 2009
Happy Mother's Day
I think Zoe is weaned. About two weeks ago, she stopped asking for me before bedtime. Then, a few days ago, she decreased the time she spent nursing in the morning. Finally, over the weekend, she didn't even ask for me in the morning. Perhaps as a gift to me, as an easy way to remember, the last time was on Mother's Day. I am so happy, proud and yet not without a tinge of sadness that our nursing days are over. This is the first step amongst the many she will take towards independence and self sufficiency. I am just so glad that she did it on her terms, without any hurried pushing from me. And I am glad that I was able to oblige her and that we shared this special period of intimacy.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
A Place of Our Own
"A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life... Do all you can to create a tranquil, harmonious home." - A Nepalese good luck mantra.
Dennis and I have been looking to buy a place. And yesterday, we signed the papers to put a bid in for a house diagonally across the street from us now, only to decide last minute against submitting it. Dennis and I both developed cold feet because it is at the higher end of what we can afford, which means we would have to live with a lot of the cosmetic flaws of the house for a while. More importantly, it doesn't call out to Dennis. It is a nice house with, in my opinion, good bones, good location and phenomenal views - the south facing part of the house has a view of Lake Hodges and Bernardo Mountain. I really liked the lovely breeze that wafts into the south side of the house. I can imagine it being a fantastic house after a fresh coat of paint, a change of flooring, and an update to the kitchen. But in the end, it is yet another false start.
I am disappointed. But even in my moments of despair and frustration, the voice of reason says this is after all a search for our nest and it should unite us in excitement and hope rather than render us apart.
Funny thing is, this endeavor was at first guided only by the barest of parameters - at least 3 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, "nice and bright," and no more driving time to work than what Dennis has to do currently, within budget (obviously). And obviously, it has become clear to us, after tromping through more properties than we can place, all of which fit the simple rules we set out but none of which called out to us in a way that made us say (in unison) "ah, this is it, this is home," that what we want is a lot more than just the right square footage, rooms, affordability and proximity.
But what do we want? The place I want will not only be a shelter for our physical selves, but for our dreams and ambitions too. It will be the mise en scene of our daily lives and it should reflect our values, our personalities, the lifestyle we live and desire (and this begs yet the question of what is the lifestyle that we want?). It should be comfortable, appealing, not too big but sufficient for our needs. If I were to put adjectives to it, I would say warm, clean and clean lines, bright, cheerful with charming details. Soulful. Nothing overly generic. There should be a garden. This ideal home we envision would have 3 bedrooms, a great room which sits the kitchen, living room and dinning room, all of which are minimally separated by walls. There would be a library or quiet space. But this space shouldn't be too big. We don't want space that will only draw us apart; rather, though we don't want to cram, we want a space where we can daily practice the act of accommodating one another's need for quiet reflection or rowdy union at the end of the day. This means, concretely, no less than 1900 square feet and no more than 2400 square feet. Actually, there is already a house that encapsulates all that, but we would have to build it from scratch. see http://www.mkd-arc.com/homes/breezehouse/
There was a "this is it, I would be home" moment during our hunt. But it was with a piece of land eighth-tenth of an acre large on a hill with expansive views of a golf course, a vineyard, and the mountains beyond San Pasqual Valley. I loved it the moment I saw it. There, Zoe would have days watching clouds on high, chasing bunnies and hearing birds chirp. Together, we can watch the egrets take off from their perch (there was one on the property when I first came upon it). And its location, just down the road from where we are now, couldn't be more perfect. Sadly, this love proved to be short-lived. The property was bought even before we can say "bid." I suppose the impossibly low price - a bank owned, foreclosed property - was indeed too good to be true and someone knew to snatch at it. As disappointing an episode as that was, it whetted our appetite and imagination, as well as made clear to us that, even though we keep saying to ourselves that no one buys the perfect first home, or that the first home is usually just a stepping stone, we pretty much want the ideal right now.
But perhaps there is no ideal. It dawned on me the other day that this entire enterprise is not unlike the dating scene. We were out there like a 20 something seeking love: we kept going out on dates, and we go out there with a supremely open mind. Thus, minus the obviously wrong or out of reach, we flirt with all types, even the ones that need major renovation. We believed that if we see enough houses, we will finally meet the one and all will somehow fall into place.
I hope so.
Dennis and I have been looking to buy a place. And yesterday, we signed the papers to put a bid in for a house diagonally across the street from us now, only to decide last minute against submitting it. Dennis and I both developed cold feet because it is at the higher end of what we can afford, which means we would have to live with a lot of the cosmetic flaws of the house for a while. More importantly, it doesn't call out to Dennis. It is a nice house with, in my opinion, good bones, good location and phenomenal views - the south facing part of the house has a view of Lake Hodges and Bernardo Mountain. I really liked the lovely breeze that wafts into the south side of the house. I can imagine it being a fantastic house after a fresh coat of paint, a change of flooring, and an update to the kitchen. But in the end, it is yet another false start.
I am disappointed. But even in my moments of despair and frustration, the voice of reason says this is after all a search for our nest and it should unite us in excitement and hope rather than render us apart.
Funny thing is, this endeavor was at first guided only by the barest of parameters - at least 3 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, "nice and bright," and no more driving time to work than what Dennis has to do currently, within budget (obviously). And obviously, it has become clear to us, after tromping through more properties than we can place, all of which fit the simple rules we set out but none of which called out to us in a way that made us say (in unison) "ah, this is it, this is home," that what we want is a lot more than just the right square footage, rooms, affordability and proximity.
But what do we want? The place I want will not only be a shelter for our physical selves, but for our dreams and ambitions too. It will be the mise en scene of our daily lives and it should reflect our values, our personalities, the lifestyle we live and desire (and this begs yet the question of what is the lifestyle that we want?). It should be comfortable, appealing, not too big but sufficient for our needs. If I were to put adjectives to it, I would say warm, clean and clean lines, bright, cheerful with charming details. Soulful. Nothing overly generic. There should be a garden. This ideal home we envision would have 3 bedrooms, a great room which sits the kitchen, living room and dinning room, all of which are minimally separated by walls. There would be a library or quiet space. But this space shouldn't be too big. We don't want space that will only draw us apart; rather, though we don't want to cram, we want a space where we can daily practice the act of accommodating one another's need for quiet reflection or rowdy union at the end of the day. This means, concretely, no less than 1900 square feet and no more than 2400 square feet. Actually, there is already a house that encapsulates all that, but we would have to build it from scratch. see http://www.mkd-arc.com/homes/breezehouse/
There was a "this is it, I would be home" moment during our hunt. But it was with a piece of land eighth-tenth of an acre large on a hill with expansive views of a golf course, a vineyard, and the mountains beyond San Pasqual Valley. I loved it the moment I saw it. There, Zoe would have days watching clouds on high, chasing bunnies and hearing birds chirp. Together, we can watch the egrets take off from their perch (there was one on the property when I first came upon it). And its location, just down the road from where we are now, couldn't be more perfect. Sadly, this love proved to be short-lived. The property was bought even before we can say "bid." I suppose the impossibly low price - a bank owned, foreclosed property - was indeed too good to be true and someone knew to snatch at it. As disappointing an episode as that was, it whetted our appetite and imagination, as well as made clear to us that, even though we keep saying to ourselves that no one buys the perfect first home, or that the first home is usually just a stepping stone, we pretty much want the ideal right now.
But perhaps there is no ideal. It dawned on me the other day that this entire enterprise is not unlike the dating scene. We were out there like a 20 something seeking love: we kept going out on dates, and we go out there with a supremely open mind. Thus, minus the obviously wrong or out of reach, we flirt with all types, even the ones that need major renovation. We believed that if we see enough houses, we will finally meet the one and all will somehow fall into place.
I hope so.
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