Lots of Things

 

Folks, I wish I could say I’ve not been blogging because I have nothing to say.  (Un)Fortunately, there’s lots going on and no time to reflect on it.

 

Remodel

 

Waaaaaaay back at the beginning of this blog, we said we were going to be remodeling our house in the next year.  Two years later, we’re finally ready to make that decision.

 

Our architects stopped by with their plans last Friday.  And we like them.  We’re not overwhelmed with the beauty and joy of them, but we cannot afford a remodel that moves us to the level of Beauty and Joy in this old house.  We’re not even sure we can afford the Better but Still Charming remodel they proposed.  (I believe “Charming” must be code for “We still think it’s an ugly house, but we don’t want to offend you.”) 

 

The gist of their remodel is to add 6 feet onto the narrow side of the house, thus extending our munchkin sized bedrooms into normal sized ones, converting one bedroom into a humongous family room, and adding a master suite of bedroom, closet and big ass bath along the length of the house. 

 

So, yes, it would be an improvement over the existing house.  But yes, we could still live in the house the way it is, even if/when we add another monkey/bunny to our household.  There would be doubling up of children in a (tiny, tiny) bedroom, but it would be doable. 

 

The fiscally conservative route would be to wait until I get tenure and the kids get out of daycare.  That will give us much more security and financial flexibility.  The riskier route would be to refinance the home with an adjustable rate mortgage.  The “good” news is that remodels in our neighborhood cost about $130/sq. foot and we’re selling the ‘hood at around $175/sq foot.  Add the home office to the remodel and we’d make a hefty profit on the house if we sold it.  But if we don’t sell it, we’ll be piss poor until we sell it at retirement. 

 

Risky or conservative.  That’s really what we’re down to.

 

Reproduction

 

Even weirder, being back in the midst of Baby Quest 2005, you’d think that I’d just relax and “do it” and not worry about what was happening when and how.  Well, clearly, you do not know me. 

 

I thought I knew all I needed to know about my body and the reproduction system the last go round.  That’s when I learned about Ovalina and Sparky’s Big Adventure.  The key points being a woman is only fertile 12 to 24 hours a month because that’s how long “Ovalina” lives after her debut.  But a National Geographic movie we saw last week brought up even more information/questions and so I’ve thus been on a search of additional info including finding out that spermies can only swim about 1 inch an hour and scientists have no real idea how long it takes them to move up to the fallopian tube.  Estimates range anywhere from one hour to ten hours!!!  This site says it’s likely it takes them 6-8 hours to reach the top o’ the tube. 

 

And then there is a stunning amount of (dis)information on how long sperm actually live.  This site says they only live from 16 to 18 hours whereas others say they usually live two days and up to five.  If it’s really only a 16 hour lifespan for sperm and the egg only lives for 12 hours, HOW THE HELL DO PEOPLE GET PREGNANT WITHOUT MASSIVE PLANNING AND IMPECCABLE TIMING????

 

Seriously, WTF?  The likelihood of anyone accidentally getting pregnant is just out of this world!!!  But we know it isn’t, so really.  What is going on here???

 

And with that comment, I’d like to give a hardy blogworld shout out to Carter and Evelin who are expecting Baby #2!!!!  Dudes, I think it’s time for you all to change your blog name, because your life changes are not delayed at all.  Life is coming at you with all fours screaming!

 

Rethink

 

I’ll leave you with this thought.  I’m walking down the hall a couple of weeks ago.  A colleague walking behind me says incredulously “You have lost a TRUCKLOAD of weight!” 

 

“Thanks!” I reply.  “I just stopped eating so much.” 

 

Nonetheless, I cannot get the image out of my head of a truckload of fat driving around behind me.  A truckload. 

 

Oh, just be honest and say “MY GOD, your ass is not nearly as wide as it was last semester.” 

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