A WEEK OF BLESSINGS

Last time I gave birth, the big event was sandwiched between an earthquake and a hurricane. This time was equally eventful, though a bit less natural disaster-oriented.

We welcomed sweet Willa Emmylou into our family on Saturday, May 16 at 2:01pm -- a week ahead of schedule. She was 7lb. 12oz. and 20-1/4 inches long. She has one dimple and is, so far, the chillest member of our household.

Okay so she has her moments, but pretty much only when she's hungry or when you mess with her when she's trying to sleep. :) 

Our house was on the market less than 48 hours when I started feeling contractions. Ez was working on a handful of final details early Saturday in preparation for our first showing that afternoon when I told him there was going to be a change of plans. The contractions were irregular but definitely the real deal, so we decided to head to the hospital right away, given a) how fast Johnnie was born and b) that I was Group B Strep positive and needed a round of antibiotics in my system before delivery in order to protect the baby from potentially getting sick. (Though this is really common, I took it seriously because we have a friend whose baby passed away from GBS infection.)

So we made our way calmly to the hospital, very unlike the mad rush of the late-night, going-through-transition-in-the-car experience we had 3 years ago. We checked in around 9:45am and got the IV started around 11. By 1pm the antibiotics were in so my beloved doctor, who by some miracle was on call that day, broke my water to move things along. Contractions immediately ramped up, and within an hour we were holding our perfect baby girl. Again I missed the window for the epidural, but the worst of things only lasted about 10-15 minutes. I didn't even have to push -- Willa was coming and all I had to do was get out of her way! It went so smoothly that within a few minutes afterward I felt better than I had in weeks. Again, very unlike my first go-round. 

Meanwhile, the house was getting a lot of attention. We had a couple more showings during our first days home (not recommended with a newborn, but we managed), and by Friday we found ourselves in the middle of a bidding war. Coincidentally we closed on our new house that morning, our six-day-old baby in tow, and that evening we signed a contract to sell this old log house -- eight days after it officially went up for sale. The new buyers love the house so much they even want to buy the majority of our furniture. Over the weekend they came by to chat and show the house to their kids, and they were so excited they wondered if everything was too good to be true.

The outside finally looking legit and ready for a new family.

We know the feeling, and we remain in a state of thankful shock. What a week! We knew someone would love this place, but we weren't so confident they'd be house hunting at just the right time. Of course something could still fall through between now and closing, but we could not have imagined a better outcome. In addition to deep gratitude, I have so many mixed emotions right now: sadness to say goodbye to the house where we lived and toiled for almost seven years... excitement for our new house, neighborhood and lifestyle... concern for Johnnie as she deals with all these enormous changes in her little life... elation at seeing our hard work pay off... anxiousness about moving farther from family... and loads of love for my husband and girls. All those postpartum hormones probably aren't helping with this truly crazy swirl of emotions. 

So if you need me, I'll just be hanging out for the next few weeks -- snuggling with Willa, coloring with Johnnie, soaking up my favorite parts of this finally-finished house, and marveling over all these blessings with Ez.

Under Contract

It's true! We're buying a new house -- a well-kept, 60-year-old, end-of-group brick townhouse, in a busier suburb with a postage stamp of grass, off-street parking and a significant reduction in square footage.

I know some of you thought we'd never follow through on that threat, but it's actually happening!

We are still finishing up the final details of our current house before we can officially put it on the market in the next couple weeks, but the very right house came along (we toured about 15 similar homes) and we have some time to get ours sold since closing on our new place is not scheduled until July. Of course something could fall through between now and then, but right now the plan is full steam ahead.

And yes, I'll show you pictures of ol' 3820 when it's done! There's a lot you haven't seen yet.

I'll admit to the irony -- most of our friends are leaving their urban and suburban homes to flee to the country these days, in search of bigger, more elaborate houses and more land, while we're going the opposite direction. In fact, the house we're buying belongs to friends who essentially want what we currently have, except not quite so far from the city. We've thought long and hard about this though, and we feel this decision is what's best for our family. And we're very excited!

FAQs

Considering we're going against the flow here, most of our friends, family and strangers think we are crazy. In response, here I will attempt to address the FAQs we're hearing over and over:

Really? After all the hard work you put into your house? 
Yep. After a certain point, the excitement of renovating turned into a slog, as long-time readers know, and it's hard to get the joy back. It's been 6 years. The house looks great, but we're just done. And this move is not just about the house itself -- it's about lifestyle. We want to reduce Ez's commute so that he can get two hours of his life back every day and be a part of our kids' activities. (Johnnie started dance this year!) We also want to move from a place where we'd be considering private schools to an area with award-winning (free!) public schools.

Won't you miss your kitchen/bedroom/custom features?
Yes, to a degree. Mostly, I will miss our bedroom with its high ceiling and beautiful old beams, and our spacious master bathroom. However, we'll be trading those things for other conveniences. For example, I am really looking forward to the more open floor plan in our new house, so I can keep an eye on the kiddos in the living room while I'm in the kitchen, etc.

How will you deal with having less square footage?
Even with another baby coming, our current house is just too big for us -- we simply don't use or need the extra space we have. The new house has a finished basement with a family room and 4th bedroom, so we will actually have more rooms than before. They're just a bit smaller and more efficient. This blog post about downsizing sums up our feelings very well.

Won't you miss your huge yard? 
Not really. Most of our time outdoors is spent mowing, trimming and keeping up the massive yard. Our new yard is small but flat, fenced in and has beautiful trees, so it'll be a fun change. I'm still hoping to find a sunny spot to grow some veggies. Plus, we'll be able to walk to the playground for a change of scenery or visit the grandparents!

Do you really want to deal with having neighbors so close and being in a busier area? 
Yep. We are looking forward to being much closer to a much bigger variety of stores and restaurants, and we're excited to have a more walkable lifestyle again. The neighborhood we chose is very family and community oriented, so there are block parties during holidays and a more neighborly vibe with plenty of kids around. After feeling somewhat isolated out in the country, we are excited for a more energetic neighborhood.

Won't you miss having your family close by?
Very much. This has been the hardest part of the decision. After the baby comes, at this point I am planning to work part-time -- one day a week in the office, and the rest of my hours from home. (Thank you, employer, for being so flexible and awesome!) I still plan to bring our kids to their grandparents' once a week when I go into the office, and we still plan to attend the same church, so we'll still see them quite regularly.

So that's that. We definitely have a lot to handle right now with only 9 weeks to go until my due date, a house to prep for sale and other to buy, but I'm thankful that these are circumstances we chose. Though I feel stressed at times, there is a lot of freedom in being able to choose your future path and work toward your goals as a family.

Are there any other burning questions that I missed?

STANDARDS OF DOMESTICITY

I started writing this post two years ago and couldn't bring myself to finish or publish it, because I didn't want to push negativity out into the world. However, my feelings about this have only intensified over time, and in light of mega-blog Young House Love's announcement about "taking a break" today, I decided to finish this post in the hope it will resonate with someone else out there.

*

Renovating with a six month old, 2012

A couple months ago there was a post on Apartment Therapy that bothered me so much I still think about it regularly. It opened like this:

I feel like I am late getting to the painting game with my 19-month old. She is still enthralled by crayons, but it seems I have recently seen a slew of blog posts talking about painting with kids under two. Tomorrow I am determined to make it happen. 

It's sad and telling that this person, despite admitting their kid was perfectly content with her experiences, allowed a "slew of blog posts" to guilt them into making an unnecessary mess happen tomorrow.

Oh boy.

"Lifestyle blogs" have exploded since I first started reading them several years ago (and then casually writing this one back in 2009). As a result, blogs have increasingly become a way to prove yourself as the crafty homemaker, the courageous DIYer, the bold tastemaker, the hands-on mommy, the urban homesteader, or whatever your aspiration may be. If you were to Google "DIY" + anything at all, you'd undoubtedly unearth tidy how-to instructions (and step-by-step watermarked photos) by a cheerful blogger on how you, too, can make it happen with your own two hands. Admittedly this has been helpful in our home renovation journey, but generally speaking I'm sort of over it.

There has been an evolution. Instead of merely reflecting our lives at home, blogs (and now Pinterest, which came onto the scene after I started writing this post) are shaping them. Babies have started celebrating their birthdays with more stylish and lavish parties, with sophisticated themes and all the details artistically photographed (and, of course, blogged.) When Johnnie turned one, a Pinterest-savvy coworker asked me what her party theme was going to be. I said, "balloons and cake?" She responded that it didn't sound very exciting. "It will be for Johnnie," I said. (And for the record, I was right! What a sweet day that was.)

After awhile, it was not enough to have a nicely decorated home; to get all the blogging cred, you had to sew your child's quilt yourself, with fabric you bought with a coupon you kept tucked away in your special hand-bound coupon organizer. The insides of kitchen cabinets have become photographed just as frequently as the outsides, showcasing how there are no skeletons of disarray hidden in any closets. Christmas trees are not just tastefully decorated; the ornaments are handmade and sold in bloggers' Etsy shops. People began decorating their dining tables for dinner parties they weren't having just so they could take photos for their blog. (That one really gets me.)

Somewhere along the line, the keepers of the blogosphere (mostly women, but some men too) have adopted a new form of domesticity. It's cheery and has a can-do attitude: We bake bread. We raise chickens. We celebrate every holiday with a craft. We paint and organize and sew, we decorate and re-decorate, and we carry a camera to document it all. But then, when we realize our 19-month-old has never held a paintbrush like all the other bloggers' kids, or we realize nobody likes Keep Calm posters (and now chevron) anymore, guilt and even shame creep in. There's a lot of superficiality and performance underlying this shiny new standard of domesticity, and when you inevitably fall short somewhere (who can keep up?) -- or when your aesthetic missteps are documented so publicly -- the oppressiveness of constantly striving for perfection or attention begins to feel a little overwhelming.

As George (my favorite character) says in You've Got Mail, "The internet is just another way of being rejected by women." As bloggers, if we don't measure up to the standard -- even if we're the only ones in our households who are holding us to it -- page views drop, comments wane and maybe GOMI points out our bad decisions. Even worse, rejection will also come from within ourselves, because we're the ones extolling this domestic virtue through carefully curated public promotion. And because (as bloggers) we are both the creators and consumers of blog fodder, we are never ever done fixing up our homes (or whatever your "passion" is) or grasping for page views to show them off. Such a vicious cycle.

As someone who has spent considerable time living in a house with no heat and cooking soup in a coffee pot, I had to start removing myself from the endless stream of blog inspiration, aspiration and self-promotion awhile ago. I still look at Pinterest for very specific things like recipes or room layouts, but I'm so tired of aspiring! Blogging has been a therapeutic activity for me, but being (even a small part) of the blogging community has also been somewhat poisonous at times. I mean, somewhere, some blogger is writing a post about how you can "get the look" of their newly renovated bathroom -- complete with tile and wallpaper they were given for free by manufacturers -- while I (and maybe you?) have been furiously googling for coupon codes and peeing in a bucket while my bathroom is out of commission. How am I supposed to paint with my toddler and make my own laundry soap in these conditions? How do I afford both the designer trash can and the organic hand towels? (Fingers crossed that I win them in a blog giveaway!) Why can't my kid just like wooden toys instead of plastic things that blink? How does the construction dust get inside the microwave? The domestic standard perpetuated on the internet has been and is still out of reach for me, considering my unique circumstances, talents (or lack thereof), resources, time constraints and interests. Though I'm drawn to beautiful things and the calming thought of a curated life, admitting to and accepting my limitations -- and cutting back on my blog and Pinterest consumption -- have helped to unload a lot of guilt from my apron pockets.

Whew!

In the meantime, I have seen numerous small-time bloggers work their way up to impressive success, somehow navigating what I consider to be a rather exploitative industry that asks you to sell your personal website and your persona to shill new product lines at Target or wherever. Yet because they are bloggers, and blogs have been touted to be more trustworthy and personal than mainstream media, it's packaged to seem like everything is genuine, and that this is real life. But usually it's not. Lifestyle blogging has, in some ways, become the reality TV of real domestic life. Instead of sharing our real lives, we're staging them and passing them off as genuine. And we're dragging our families along with us and curating their lives to the point of farce. And frankly, the idea of performing my life instead of living it is a little depressing.

All of this is to say: A lot of people are trying to sell us these idealistic standards -- along with all the products and accessories required to achieve them -- and we (especially women, and even more especially mothers) need more "shoulds" in our lives like we need napkin rings for every season. We all have context, baggage and extenuating circumstances. One size will never fit all, and the formula will never add up for everyone the same way. I think on some level we all want to be the best version of ourselves, but that looks so different for each of us. I guess, after all these words, my point is that there's a strong Martha Stewart-inspired "ideal" out there that just won't add up for everyone -- myself included. So if your Dream House Pinterest board makes you feel depressed, consider deleting it. If my eternal home renovation makes you jealous of my awesomeness, by all means stop reading this blog! Discontentment is not healthy, and you're probably already doing a great job of keeping your home and family from falling apart -- which, some days, is all you can realistically aspire to.

Now I'm not saying people shouldn't make money from blogging, or that all blogs are evil or anti-feminist or whatever, or that all bloggers are perpetuating this mythical standard. (I know some people who fully embody this domestic lifestyle in a genuine way, showoffs.) I'm just turned off by the frivolity and materialism that I'm seeing so much of; by the idea that my worth or success is tied up in my domestic/decorating/homekeeping skills; by endless staged and sponsored content; by the idea that nothing is ever good enough; by guilt when things aren't up to par.

Also, I do still read some blogs. These days I am drawn most often to the regular old personal blogs, the ones written by normal people doing normal-people-stuff: finding the perfect pair of shoes, having babies, eating good food, renovating houses, writing thoughtfully about whatever they're thinking. They aren't hoping for a book deal, a product line, free tile (does the Tile Shop actually sell any tile, or do they just give it all away to bloggers? serious question) or hundreds of adoring comments on every post. They aren't prescribing anything or presenting themselves as domestic role models, but reflecting on who and where they are, and sharing a real piece of themselves. And they aren't urging me to aspire to be like them, but to relate to them. The authenticity is refreshing.

And so I leave you with a song: "In My Mind" by Amanda Palmer, in which she comes to the conclusion that all her aspirations are silly because she doesn't actually want to be the person she has been aspiring to be. Take note, blog friends, and leave the guilt on the shelf at Home Goods with all those meaningless tchotchkes you don't really want to dust around. Then invite some friends over for a real dinner party -- and, unless you really and truly love to cook, don't feel guilty at all for ordering pizza and letting the Cards Against Humanity box be your centerpiece.

xo

REMEMBERING GRAMMY

My grandma passed away last week. Still as beautiful at 86 as she was in that photo, she slipped away peacefully while reading the newspaper, and for that I am thankful. Though she was just a little waif of a person, she had more strength than anyone else I knew; she survived colon cancer and lived with a colostomy for 30-plus years, she survived a broken neck (complete with halo) after a fall down the stairs at age 83, and she endured a broken hip at 84 and a series of mini-strokes after that. After everything, I'm so glad her passing was peaceful and easy.

She was my last living grandparent, and that feels very significant. My parents have now become the elders, and there is no denying that I am, officially, one of the Adults. I spent a lot of time with all my grandparents growing up, so this is an idea that I am still getting used to.

I think I knew Grammy as well as anyone did. During my preschool years, I spent my days with her and my Pappap while my parents were at work, and our favorite games were School (a dirty trick of a game that successfully taught me to read at an early age) and "Guessing Cars" -- which involved sitting with Grammy on her porch swing and guessing what color car would drive past next. In high school, she made snacks for my friends and me before volleyball practice and woke us up from our various napping spots to ensure we got out the door in time. She was the one who, when I was 15, recognized that something real was wrong and rushed me to the hospital when my appendix was about to burst.

She was a very giving but also very private person, sharing very little about who she really was inside. She had endured a lot of pain and loss in her life and was emotionally fragile; as a result, she was very guarded and kept things close to the vest. Her love was demonstrated more by her servitude--by her sometimes oppressive way of fussing over and taking care of you--than by her affection. She'd cook you a feast when you only asked for a snack, and she'd force you to wear a wool hat when it was 50 degrees out, but hugs were rare. She'd want to know everything about you, but she wouldn't talk much about herself. It was challenging to truly bond with her. When she died, I was sad that there was a whole other part of her that I never really got to know.

The last time I saw her, earlier this summer, she told me about a recurring dream she had. In it, I am a toddler again, sleeping next to her in her bed. Still dreaming, she wakes up and discovers I'm no longer there. She frantically searches the sheets, worrying that I've smothered. Finally, after tearing the bed apart in a panic, she wakes for real and remembers that I'm all grown up and sleeping in my own bed. If you've been reading this blog for awhile, you might remember that this is pretty much the exact dream I frequently have about my daughter. The way she told it was almost word-for-word how I have experienced it since Johnnie was born. It was strange to hear her describing it while picturing it so familiarly in my mind.

Really, I don't think she could've said anything else that could have made me feel more bonded to her. I know she told me that dream so I would know how much she loved me, but I don't think she knew the significance it would have for me. I'm so glad that was my last conversation with her, the thing I was thinking about as I drove away and she waved out the window, and I'm so glad I get to tell Johnnie this story one day. She might not remember Grammy when she's older, but maybe that shared dream will help her understand a little about her, and about me too.

CHEERS!

This bottle of bubbly was leftover from New Year's Eve, and last night was the perfect time to pop the cork.

Yesterday, after two days of speculation and occasional twinges of anxiety, we heard from our loan officer.

You guys, we met our target and then some. And then some more on top of that.

We're so relieved! I had to fight back tears when I got the text from Ez, and since then I have felt so much lighter. Now we can refinance, which will allow us to pay off this house in half the time and barely increase our monthly payment. Craziness, right? We also feel validated -- I think that's the right word -- that the past five years, challenging though they were sometimes, were worthwhile.

I want to thank all of you, especially those who have been reading since the beginning, for your kindness, support and encouragement. Though we're not finished by any means, this milestone is absolutely huge, and we wouldn't have gotten this far without the help of a lot of people.

I count you among them. ♥

GUEST POST: How to Prevent Exposure to Harmful Chemicals and Asbestos

A note from Emily: I've never said yes to any offers for guest posting before, but when reader Brian Turner -- a health advocate and blogger for the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance -- approached me about writing a post about his cause, I couldn't rightly turn him down. We tore out every wall of our house, which was filled to the brim with some nasty stuff. We always made sure to wear respirators, gloves and protective suits during demolition. If you're a home renovator, please read on for some tips on protecting yourself and your family from harmful chemicals. 

* * * * * 

Home renovations can be great for a home owner, however the process may require exposure to numerous harmful chemicals. These harmful chemicals may include asbestos, mold, mildew, radon and lead paint. From exposure to these chemicals, home renovators are at risk to develop: mesothelioma, lung cancer, neurological disorders, lead poisoning, fatigue, liver damage, kidney damage, eye irritation, throat irritation, nose irritation, skin rash, nausea, balance and coordination problems. Many of these conditions are serious and should not be taken lightly. 

Proper precautions should be taken to ensure the safety of those people who are exposed. Let’s take a look at some of these dangerous conditions and how they can be prevented.

Prevent Asbestos Exposure With Tests and Protective Gear
Asbestos exposure may lead to mesothelioma. Mesothelioma is a form of cancer that results after asbestos becomes lodged in the tissue lining of the heart, stomach or lungs. This deadly disease is different from other cancers because it is caused by minerals lying dormant in the tissue lining for 10 to 50 years before developing into full blown cancer.

To prevent asbestos exposure, wear a respirator, gloves and protective clothing.  Before returning to your home, shower and ensure all traces of the mineral are removed from the body. If someone from your home inhales the mineral from your clothes, you may also be putting that person at risk.

Many buildings that were built before the 1980s usually contain asbestos. This dangerous carcinogen is still used in many applications today despite the dangers of the material. Always test a building prior to renovation to ensure the reduction or elimination of the risk of exposure.

Prevent Radon Exposure With Testing Devices
Radon exposure can cause lung cancer. In fact, it is the leading cause of lung cancer in non-smoking patients. Each year, radon claims the lives of 20,000 people or more.

This colorless, tasteless and odorless gas originates from Uranium. The gas is commonly found in basements and can be a major problem in basements when inhaled. There is no way to determine if radon is in the home without a radon detector.

Radon exposure is a huge health risk worldwide. The gas is produced in the rocks and minerals in the soil below the foundation of the home. If the foundation cracks, radon can creep into the basement and cause a problem.

Radon may also be present in water. Many people with wells often have a problem with radon in their drinking water. Radon may be found in construction materials such as granite, concrete, drywall, mortar and brick. The amount of radon found in these materials is small but can affect inhabitants of a home over a period of time.

Prevent Lead Paint Exposure With Tests and Protective Gear
Lead paint is responsible for lead poisoning and may be present in homes built prior to 1978. Lead paint exposure can lead to central nervous system. Tests must be conducted prior to home renovations to ensure there is no potential for lead exposure. Aspirators, gloves and protective clothing are often recommended.

* * * * * 

Thanks for the tips, Brian! Please feel free to ask him any questions below. I'm sure he'd be happy to answer or direct you where to find more information.

UPDATE 7/9/2103: Due to an overwhelming amount of spam comments on this post, I have disabled comments. If you have any questions, concerns or comments about this post, please contact me directly. Thanks. 

A Tribute

One of my colleagues and personal heroes passed away from cancer over the weekend. I only spent a couple days getting to know her last spring, but I have that sadness deep in the pit of my stomach as though I lost someone very dear to me.

I met Lyn Lusi a year ago this month. She had been visiting the US from her home deep in Eastern Congo, where mass rapes, severe oppression of women and violent atrocities are part of the daily landscape. Lyn dedicated her life to bringing healing to the survivors of this terrible violence, and to changing the culture of oppression and inequality through education and empowerment.

One day during her visit last year, between discussions on public awareness campaigns and microfinance loans for rape survivors, I had the opportunity to sit with her for an hour, hearing her story and being completely inspired by her passion and conviction. Lyn, who was British, moved to the Congo when she was in her 20s to be a missionary and teacher. While there, she fell in love with and married a Congolese doctor, who would become her partner in humanitarian service to thousands of survivors of rape and violence for many years to come. Together Lyn and her husband would build hospitals, care for and empower survivors, challenge the local justice system and confront the Church's ill-conceived, unbiblical teachings about gender and equality.

The thing that struck me most about Lyn was not that her passion for her work was fiery and contagious. It was that it was so matter-of-fact, and such a natural part of the humble, quiet woman she was. She never once pounded her fist, yet the force of her message struck deep. And her faith in God was neither offensive nor defensive; she just breathed it in and out, it was such an essential element of her life. Lyn was a powerhouse for the oppressed, but more than that she was a woman whose love for others overflowed naturally and genuinely out of her love for God. 

Now that is what being a Christian is all about.

Lyn laughed about meeting celebrities like Ben Affleck and others (whose names she couldn't remember) who would pass through the Congo on humanitarian visits, but I'm sure they are mourning her today too. The tribute to her memory on HEALAfrica.org shows how many people loved her and will miss her. But from what I know of Lyn, she wouldn't come back if given the chance. Her work in the Lord is done, and she's been told "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

Now it's up to the rest of us to continue where she left off.

Image from HEALAfrica.