Well, this week was it — the big switch. We hyped it as going to Preschool, and the transition has been great. Shockingly great.

Day 1, both Dave and I did dropoff, she was like "yep, alright, see you later." and we left. She talked to them, had a good time, and didn't want to leave when I picked her up. When we got home, my mom called, and like I do ALL THE TIME, I asked Ingrid if she wanted to talk. However, instead of plugging her ears and saying "I DONT LIKE IT!" over and over, she hopped off the chair and came running over, grabbed the phone and said "I go to preschool, Grammy!" and proceeded to HAVE A CONVERSATION about it. Her first ever phone convo, EVER. She won't even talk to ME on the phone.

Day 2 was fine, Day 3, we followed preschool by going to My Gym for Kindermusik. It was a class we paid for at the old daycare, and the teacher is a college classmate, and Ingrid loved it. The Kindermusik class is what made us really want to find a smaller place for her, because everyone said she was just a totally different kid in there.  Anyway, I signed up for a month of lessons to get us through the last of the wintry weather, and since Dave is now working later in the evenings for a while, it gives us something to do.

We had done the four weeks of classes in january, after winning them, and it was fine, Ingrid really liked it and talked about it a lot at home. But yesterday, she was a different kid. More confident, choosing to sit rightnext to the teacher (who, granted, she knows) and answering the questions and sining the songs. WHen the teacher asked everyone to give their names and say what their favorite dessert was, Ing piped right up: INGRID! MAC & CHEE! I've never, ever seen her so outgoing.

Today, I picked her up after my doctor's appointment*, and the teacher said "She peed on the potty a few times!" SHOCKING. ACTUAL PEE. SHOOOOOCKKKKEEED. And so i said "you know, some mornings when she gets dressed, she really wants to wear underpants but I'm not sure if you'd be cool with that…." and she said "send her in! That's great! Just make sure you have a change of clothes, but that's not a problem!" Unlike last daycare, who just…. didn't support that. At all.

Not to mention, dropping her off is so different. No, there's no passcode security system or leather couch, but it's just so wild to drop her off at 8 am and have her there with one or two other babies/kids. Since it's so small, they all start in the big room, and so far, she's been just one of 3 or 4 kids at dropoff, MAX. Whereas at the old place, she was dropped off right in her own room, and by 7:30 there are already half a dozen kids or so.

Anyway, yeah. Feeling confident about the shift, if not a little guilty we didn't do it sooner.

*I've been disarmed. FWIW, IUD removal is totally painless and almost too easy. Just going to take a few months to get all systems in line (thyroid, cycles, etc) before really going for it, though.

My coworker, who bought in August, is refinancing from a 30yr fixed to a 20yr fixed, and keeping the same payment. Needless to say, my curiosity is piqued. Anyone want to share their experience with that? How do they appraise a house after 4 years — I know the market has tanked, but in my neighborhood, a comparable house is selling at about 150k, and we paid 120 4 years ago. Do they just go by tax records? Or something else?

I'm going to talk to the guy tomorrow, one guy, anyway, and I have a call in to another guy, just to see what's up. We don't really want to lower our payment, but it would be sweet to lower our terms to a 15yr mortgage.

Seriously, why do I keep fawning over….

wait for it……

MATCHING APRONS.

I mean, $48 seems a little steep, but I wish I'd thought of this earlier and made it to a craft fair or something. Or unearthed my sewing machine and attempted myself. Those are just SO CUTE. gah. O-L-D.

Dave is working today, we have my holiday party tonight where I actually feel pretty good about the dress and shrug I bought, and we're doing our christmas tree tomorrow. I'd planned on going to a farm this year, but am starting to get bogged down by logistics and possible weather, and am rethinking that idea. We've bought our tree just up the street for years (from a local farm, just pre-cut and displayed in town) and with this kind of super busy weekend, that almost sounds like a better idea. Still not sure, though.

Thanksgiving was fine — weird, but fine. We went to my SIL's house, where they had more than 30 people wedged into their rather small house (first floor is about 500sf, and the kitchen was off limits) where, when I walked in, my glasses fogged from the heat of the crowd. No one could move without rearranging like that game Rush Hour, and I actually had to have Dave drive me home to get my inhaler, because it was starting to trigger an asthma attack. I'm not normally claustrophobic, but this was insane. Lots of complaining, but even me-who-had-to-leave-for-a-bit knows that if "there's not enough room!" is the biggest complaint about Thanksgiving, we're pretty damn lucky. (Although all agreed that we've outgrown such gatherings, with my BIL's kids and families, and SIL's family and kids, it's a fuckton of people.)

Some cute things:

Ingrid loved it. She warmed up pretty quickly, and when I summoned Dave to take me home for my albuterol, and headed for the door, it was near the card table that she was sitting at, happily coloring with the big kids, and she said "NO, Mama, go BACK!" (Meaning, get the hell away from funtown!) We left here in the safe care of every other local relative she knows, and she had a blast. When we got back, we had dinner, and while we were gone they opened the windows and doors and my glasses DIDN'T fog upon return, but then they closed them for dinner, and I got woozy again, so I ended up sitting on the couch in front of an open window. (In the living room, the couch had been pushed to the wall, and there were two long folding tables and the card table, and it was like a packed church hall or something. I really can't do it justice.) Anyway, while I was there, I was sitting next to my grandnephew Jacob, who is 4, who was eating a plate full of Cheetos for dinner. Ingrid came over and wanted some, and we don't really do Cheetos, so I said no, and she wandered away, but what I hadn't realized was that Jacob had also wandered off, and when HE returned he had a new plate and the bag of Cheetos and said "Where's Ingrid? I got her some chips!" Such a sweet kid, he is. I said "oh, no thank you, she's all set, but that was very thoughtful of you!" Fast forward an hour or so, it's after dinner and I'm standing with some family in the kitchen, and Ing approaches with a plate bearing 6 Cheetos. She holds the plate out, pleading with her eyes, and I lean down and she says "Can I have some chips?" with such longing and so earnestly, that I cave. She BEAMS, and spends the next half an hour carrying that plate around, savoring her Cheetos.

We've also been working on pottying here, as she suddenly really wants to be wearing underpants, JUST UNDERPANTS NO DIAPER! She's doing pretty good — at this point she's basically holding it until she has a diaper (ie, before nap, or before leaving) and she's really despising having a dirty diaper. At the party, she came over and tugged on my hand and pulled me down to whisper "I need a clean diaper!" which is a totally new thing. She even has had two weird naps on me, downstairs, and stayed dry through those. She hasn't actually peed on the potty yet, it's like there's this little barrier to that — she'll sit, but not pee. But as soon as a diaper goes on, she pees. We have three more days with NO PLANS, and we're going to be doing a lot of sitting, I think. Bizarre moment #2 of today, the boogie-stuck-in-teeth being #1, is me sitting cross legged on the bathroom floor in front of Ingrid sitting on her potty, with me leaning forward to hold her in a hug, because she asked for it. Out of fear? I don't know… but we're working on it.

So, yeah, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

When I was 21, almost 22, one of my best friends from late high school/early adolescence died of a heroin overdose, and it sucked. Sucked. Sucked. Sucked. When JT died, Aton was my salvation. When Aton died 18 months later, it was devastation.

Anyway. JT had had a hard adolescence, struggling with his addictions, and when he died, I wrote his mom a letter, that, honestly, I can't remember much of now, almost 12 years later. I know I tried to reassure her that he knew his family loved him (it was clear) and that he loved them (again, it was clear, if muddy through the turbulence) but I don't remember much more. I was at their house when their new house was set up, and I remember their rabbit was named "Dinner," and that his brother shared the same name as a major rock star (full name) and that his sister thought she was trilingual because she knew "French, English, and Pig Latin." They had the same dishes I did, growing up, Hearts & Flowers, and his mom's name was…. Ingrid.

When Ingrid's name struck me, when I was pregnant, it just hit like lightning and fit, and that's why I was so insistent upon it, why it just seemed so Right. And I knew it was JT's mom's name, but while some names would be ruined by folks, this one wasn't. She is a good person. (Actually, she and her husband used to socialize with my mom when she first moved North, which is kind of interesting…) I named her, that was that.

Last week, my folks were down here (or somewhere) and a woman came into their studio to get some framing done, and asked one of the employees if my dad still owned it (yes), if my mom was around (no), and if I had ever finished my degree (yes). She mentioned that I was a friend of her son's, and the clerk said "oh, well that's her daughter Ingrid right there" and gestured to a giant photo that hangs as a sample on the wall, taken this summer. She apparently got a … look across her face, and said "excuse me?" and T said "that's Ingrid S, Gretchen's daughter."

When I heard the story, I asked if she'd left her address, because I really WOULD like to write to her, to let her know that some of us turned out pretty okay, and that I think of her, and JT, often. This week, she came back to pick up her stuff, and my mom was in, and they talked. Apparently, she still reads and rereads that letter I wrote, almost 12 years ago. The same-name-as-rock-star had some "hard times," but is now a civil engineer. The trilingual is in medical school. And I don't even have to hear from my mother that she mourns JT every day.

So, I want to write to her. I think of her all the time, especially having given Ingrid her name, I feel more sad for her, now, knowing what she lost. All that grief of my 20s was hard, but now? My god. Those guys were my friends, Aton, even more, and they were also someone's baby. When Ingrid wakes at 2am and wants nothing more than to snuggle down between Dave and I? Cool. Someday she won't want it. I will never, ever wish I had snuggled my kid less — whether that comes through my hippie-ass breastfeeding/babywearing/cosleeping practices, or just in the "Big Hug! SQUEEZY HUGS!" that she asks for and receives when I pick her up from daycare. I am blessed with each and every one.

How do I convey that to Ingrid the mother? That I have never, ever forgotten their family, that Ingrid isn't JUST a "pretty name," to me, but this little thread back to those dark, dark days, reminding me of how far I've come, and how much others have lost. I just don't know how to put it into words.

Yesterday was a staff day at Ing's daycare, so I had to take it off. One of my coworker/friends also goes to that daycare, so she did too, but, we both had a class to teach. Hers was first, so she brought Finn over in the morning, went and taught, came back, we all went for a long walk (where I extolled the virtues of Maclaren strollers to her — I still don't regret, for one second, buying that Volo…) and then came back where Finn napped and Ing ate lunch, and then I went to teach.  Ing was supposed to nap, but was too excited by all the company, so when I got back she still hadn't slept, but she's at the age now where I know we can wing it, so we all toddled off to the Children's Museum.

And let me just say, the MDM at before-1pm on a Friday is a freaking GHOST TOWN. It was awesome. We were the only people on the third floor, and only saw one other family on the 2nd and 1st floors. It was Jamie's first time there, and Finn is 10 months, and walking (!) so the kiddos had fun. It's so cool to see how Ingrid's museum faves have shifted as she's developed over the last year. Yesterday, for instance, was the first time she really understood the restaurant exhibit, and spent a lot of time there. When we left, it was after 2 (and she generally naps from 12-2) but I hadn't eaten so I stopped at the cafe nearest the museum and ordered two muffins, to go, but Ing wanted to sit at the table. So, we did. She ate most of her muffin, watched cars go by, and we got in the car. It's about a 5 minute drive from there to home, and just before we got to our driveway, she said "What Ingrid doin? What Ingrid doin? What Ingrid doin?" and fell asleep. I got her into her bed, and she slept solidly for about 2 hours.

When she got up, we hit the road again, as we needed to get diapers at Target, and look for orange leggings for her costume, and get some dinner. (Oh, right, this is one of Dave's massive OT weekends, so he wasn't getting home til 11, and today he's working 10a-11p too…) We went back downtown, and I ordered food from the thai place and then we walked up one side of Main st, crossed and back down the other, looking at halloween decorations, and other stuff. At the bottom of Main, across from the Thai place, is where Andy works, and he happened to see us through the window, and it was totally packed but he popped out to say hi to Ingrid, and to see if she wanted a sweet potato fry, and she did, so he went and got her one. By the time she finished her french fry, our food was ready, and we went home. Such a great day.

Today, before Dave left for work, FedEx dropped a box that was clearly labeled, and clearly a ROKU! Happy Anniversary to ME! I set it up after Dave left, and let me just say TEH AWESOME. I'm watching Airline, right now, that A&E show about working for Southwest, which is totally geeky, but I love it. Ingrid and I went to swim class, where she did great, and she ate most of her lunch before proclaiming "I need a nap now." She's sleeping — when she wakes, we have plans to go to the library, and to a Halloween event at the civic center ("Pumpkins in the Park," a fundraiser for UCP, where people have a contest, I think? of pumpkin carving….)

Anyway. What a great set of days. When Dave is crazy busy like this, it's kind of sweet to have Ingrid-Mama time, and I definitely try to do a lot of out of the house stuff, so that Ing doesn't dwell on 'where daddy at?"

So, yeah, life is good. and the ROKU is as cool as I knew it would be.

Summer feels so OVER. It feels fall-like, the folk festival is over, the students are starting to stream back into town, and the LLBean catalog is making me want stuff like a "fleece-lined hoodie" (chocolate, yum.) Anyway, I have a bunch of stuff that's been floating around, and none of it is really connected, but yeah, hi!

I've lost the Bloglines love and totally converted to Google Reader, and so should you. Well, you don't HAVE to, but I love the layout more, and the adding of subs more, and especially the sharing stuff. I can share professional links really easily, and that is SO great, to have my professional stuff and personal stuff in one place, but without the risk of cross-pollination. I mean, my faculty doesn't need to know I read the Superficial, right?

I kind of really want an iPhone, except I will not be getting one. We don't have 3g, I don't want to pay for the data plan, and really, if they'd just add a camera and GPS to the iPod touch, well, that's what I really want. (And rumor has it the update on 9/9 will have GPS on the touch…) My cell carrier was sucked up by Verizon, and there hasn't been a change yet, but I'm already contemplating a shift, just in case.

I lost and kept off 10 pounds using WW earlier, but didn't want to pay again, so now I'm looking at online fitness thingies. Like gyminee, fitday, sparkpeople, etc… I don't really want to count calories, as much as track stuff like exercise, vitamins, veggies, etc, and have some place to weigh in every week. For free, of course. Any other recommendations?

I ordered a new stroller. Which, yes, Ingrid is 2+, and I've loved our Mac Techno since she was born, but the Mac Volo was released in Orange in 2007, and has been singing to me ever since. It's ridiculous, really. Then someone posted a link to a NIB one on ebay for 75 bucks, total, which is a steal in the Mac world, so I sprung for it. I felt better about the impulse buy (that I'd been considering for over a year) when we went to the festival and I saw kids that were older than Ingrid being pushed around in strollers that are unwieldy and huge. An 8 lb stroller with a shoulder strap (and did I mention, ORANGE!) will be a great solution for the toddler-preschooler outings where the walking and strolling are switched off. Plus, ORANGE! I'm beyond excited for it to arrive. Dumb. I know.

I've been going to the Y for a year! I don't know that I'm any visually different, I guess my pants are looser, maybe, but I definitely feel stronger, and HELLO, I GO TO THE Y now.  NOT ONLY do I go to the Y, I just signed up for my fall session classes of Group Power, and added BELLYDANCING. I am so excited. It's at 745 on Tuesdays, so basically when Ing is in bed anyway, and just kind of a wacky thing to do, I think. I'm also doing elliptical machine on the days I'm there for GP, too, and I dunno, I go to the Y! That's huge, that I even go. That I have the little tag on my keys now. Crazy.

I took Ingrid for the library for the first time, as a patron, and she loved it. She is so great.

I am teaching two sections of a 1cr class for first-years, to foster college success, which is a RIOT since I failed out of college on my first try. But in talking about this, it turns out, a lot of people I know did the same thing. Which led me to have the epiphany that success isn't about doing it right the first time, it's just as much about picking yourself back up and doing it right the 2nd time. Or the 3rd. Or whenever. I feel like, all considered, I'm a pretty successful person. I get hungup a little bit that I'm not a success in the area that everyone, growing up, thought I'd be, but… damn. I'm only 33! Life is short! To be successful in the area I'm in, well, that field didn't even exist when I was in high school. Weird.

I wrote a letter to my city council and the city manager this week, constructively criticizing their horrible website. (Basically, it's mostly .docs and PDFs. Even the "directions to city hall" are a word doc. Grr!) and within 15 minutes of hitting send, the manager called me directly, was awesome, and we ended up setting an appointment to meet today, which was great. It was so great to be taken so seriously, based on both my writing skills (it was a pretty good letter) and my technology expertise. I had this moment of "holy shit, I'm a grownup! Professional! I'm being taken so seriously and it seems like just yesterday the bike cops were chasing me out of West Market Square!!" I can't wait to see the website change, and know that I was really instrumental in making that happen. Citizens of Bangor, you're welcome.

There was probably more. But it's time for bed.

Since it was asked, here’s how we transitioned Ingrid.

First, we are big cosleepers here. Dave was initially way against it, and is now its biggest champion. Ingrid slept with us for the first 8 weeks or so, and then at 8w she started the night out in her crib, and ended up with us. We are still totally cool with that — we love the cosleeping, actually, and aren’t in a huge rush to end it, since we pretty much believe that Ingrid will spend most of her life NOT wanting to sleep between us, so we should enjoy the closeness while we can. We just aren’t CIO people, and never will be. It’s not what’s right for our family, it may be right for yours, but for us, it isn’t.

So the impetus for the big bed was both feeling like Ingrid was uncomfortable in the crib, as well as knowing we had a housefull of family coming. The last time my whole family was here, Kate slept on the aerobed under the christmas tree. With her coming to visit, and my parents thankful for a guest bed at all, but really wishing for a queen, and with Ingrid nearing the end of crib-ville, we went for it.

Ingrid’s been sleeping on a cot at daycare since january, when she moved up in rooms, so the only crib sleep she’s had in the last 4 months has been the first few hours at bedtime, and weekend naps. She goes to bed at 8, and between 8 and 10 we usually have to go up and replace a lost pacifier, or rub her back, and occasionally we have to move her to our bed before 10. Once in our bed, she settles right down, and I can walk away and leave her there, and she’s none the wiser. That’s one of the reasons we wanted to give her the full bed, and not do a toddler bed, because if I could lay down with her in HER bed and get that result, I wouldn’t have to worry about her falling out of our unusually high bed. Anyway, then by midnight, she’s in our bed — she wakes and cries, Dave fetches her, and we all sleep til about 6:30 on weekdays. It works well.  She doesn’t "sleep through the night" but she doesn’t really wake up, either, it’s not like we are feeding her or reading stories at 1am, we’re just rubbing her back or reassuring her, basically.

First night of Operation Big Girl Bed (OBGB), we laid her down at 8, she went to sleep, and we didn’t hear a word til 1am. No lost paci, no yelp, nothing. The next night doesn’t count because Dave hadn’t put her down for a nap because ‘she didn’t seem tired" so everything was fucked, as it happens in those situations.  The third night, she went to bed at 8, had one cry and I rubbed her back for just a minute, and then she ended up with us around 1 again. Last night?

Last night we put her in bed at 8. And she woke up at 5:55 and started talking to the pictures on her walls. No lie. I can count on one hand the number of times she’s slept through the night, and it’s never been that long. I know that sleep isn’t linear, that this doesn’t mean she will now sleep through the night forever, but her sleep has totally improved, IMO. And it’s been so great to be able to snuggle with her — on the Sunday where "she didn’t seem tired" Dave had to work at 3, and that’s about when she was crying to go to bed, so she napped for an hour and woke up crying, so I went up to her and could see she wasn’t ready to wake, so I laid down with her and we BOTH napped for another hour. It was pretty cool.

As far as the bed itself — we tried to make it as much like our bed as possible, egg crate thing underneath, pillows, blanket, etc, so it’s like the "Don’t" picture for cribs (and cribs shouldn’t have all that stuff, but she’s big enough now to handle that stuff)and it’s low, against two walls, and has a rail, so for her to get out will take some work. She’s pretty impressed though, calling it "Da Big Bed!" and all.

The transition is working well for us, but we don’t have any pressing need to transition her. If we were expecting again (and we aren’t) I can see being more concerned, but I’d probably have done this move and assumed that Dave would join Ing if she needed one of us, and I’d stay in our bed with the newborn. But then again, we are big ol’ cosleeping hippies.

Of course, my coworker had a baby in December, and before that she asked me lots of questions, and I did my usual disclaimer of "what worked for OUR family was XYZ, but it may not be right for YOUR family, and that is okay" and they were DEFINITELY not going to cosleep, no way, no how. And, like Dave, they are total converts. 🙂  When I told her today about Ing’s sleeping through the night, she was like "see? and you never did CIO, and they WILL sleep through the night!" It was kind of cool to be able to offer that ray of hope to her.

It’s all so personal though. Another person I know professionally is just ALWAYS complaining about her kid, who is the same age as mine, and it’s freaking out a pregnant mutual friend, but I explained to the pregnant person that… it’s all how YOU are. "For instance, Ingrid has never slept through the night. But I don’t bitch about it, because it doesn’t bother me, because I know she will someday." And the two people I was with were SHOCKED, because being childless, they had only ever heard people complain about the sleep issue, as the only response to "not sleeping through" is to be in a state of major angst and annoyance. For me, eh. She will. She won’t always be in our bed, she won’t always need us as much as she does now, so I want to be sure to give her all that she does need, while she’s asking for it. It’s not spoiling her, it’s meeting her needs. It works for us.

When she woke at 5:55, I wasn’t like "THANK GOD, she slept through the night!" but "Oh, she’s gaining her  independence!" (Plus, WE didn’t sleep through the night — at 4am it was decided I would be the one to make sure she was still breathing.) I wasn’t happy for us, but proud of her. That probably sounds twisted to some people, but that’s how it goes here.

Amity tagged me for the 6 word autobiography thing, and I’ve been thinking about it all weekend, and finally came up with this:

Desperately trying to remember everything, always.

I used to remember by writing, on paper, in journals, for classes, for whatever. Then I started remembering at Diaryland, then Typepad, and it seems now that my remembering has morphed into being photo-centric, as anyone who follows my flickr account can attest to. But it’s not just that.

Working so hard to remember everything means some things are hard to forget. I got an iPod nano this week, to take to the gym, mostly, and I opened up my bottom drawer of music. I used to be Really Into Music — especially all those years I sold it for Borders, and when I was a DJ at the college radio station ("13.5 watts of power: You could throw us in your bathtub and still live" was my signature signoff) but then when I stopped getting massive, constant exposure to new stuff, and tons of free music, it dropped right off. I have a drawer of music — a bunch of stuff from label reps still in the wrapping, even — that I rarely open. I dig out John Denver every holiday season, but this year, it was still in the CD player from last year. Yeah. I listen to music in my car — the local college station when I’m in town, and when I’m driving out of range, I listen to Ani DiFranco or the Indigo Girls or Avenue Q, or a mix cd from Amy or Andy — all old favorites that I can sing along to and know every word, basically. But I haven’t cracked open the big drawer o’ music in a long time.

I dod this week though, and it’s crazy how some CDs, I just look at, and Remember. And it’s not all good, and it’s not all bad, and it’s not with regret or wistfulness, it’s just — strange. How one song can immediately take me back, to late night phone calls from foreign countries, or that sleepy little cow-town, or walking home by cutting through the police station parking lot or driving through the reservations in Arizona where there are no phones, no power lines, and ten years ago, no cell service.   Waking up in a Denny’s parking lot in San Bernardino, smoking that first cigarette of the day on the porch of the colorful house on Dingle Ave, drinking beer and smoking up on the remnants of a trestle, seeing the official girlfriend at the standard breakfast place, realizing she knew, now.  Green Mountains, Great Ocean Road, Highway 89 (easily the most beautiful road, ever) I-70, the Track Road, Deadmans, TransCanada, Airline, 27, Camelback, Cactus&Tatum, Santa Monica Boulevard, PCH.

And there are songs that just slam me back into those moments, with such a weird, unsettling ferocity. Because I haven’t listened to music for so long, a lot of that music hasn’t had time to wear down to Just Another Song, it still has the same power it had, ten years ago, or more. To hear it now, I know that all of those experiences were threads that led me here, and could I have ended up here without them?

So, yeah. Desperately trying to remember everything, always.

Leaving the gym tonight, I just felt good. Good.

Ingrid weathered the transition to her new room at daycare, and is doing fabulously, and even starting to veer into the realm of not necessarily wanting to leave just yet. Today was that late-winter mild & sunny (you know, like 34 degrees) when we left, and she just ran down the sidewalk towards the car, and it was a flash of awesome.

Work is going well, I can look back on the last year and see progress in my specialty, and I can look forward and see ways to progress even further. Rock on.

Our money challenge has been good, too, not buying stuff for over a month. I’ve filled online carts (Land’s End had a KILLER sale on toddler clothes, and Ingrid’s busting out of the stained seams of her fall/winter wardrobe… but I resisted) and kept my eye on the refurb iPods.  We’ve also filed our taxes and received the return, which has paid off our oil bill, as well as our oil tank bill (it was 0% interest for 12 months, but I just wanted it done) and replaced Dave’s timing belt (a necessity as well). His car is done next month, and that payment will start going directly to ING, and the old oil payment is going to be added to my student loan payments. (This goes against the Dave Ramsey plan, who says to not even invest to retirement until your student loans are paid off, but I’m doing it a little differently — putting more into savings each month than on my student loans, as we could never get a deferment or forbearance on the mortgage in the event of financial emergency. Oh, and we contribute a lot to our retirement plans as a matter of principle — hello, they match! But ‘freeing up’ money from other payments doesn’t make it disposable, it’s just reallocated. ANyway.)

And the gym! I Go To The Gym now. I actually only made it once last week, on account of having to take tourney pics, and I realized I missed group power. (Not like, forgot, but MISSED it.) It was a realization not unlike the kinds I had when I quit smoking — like when the tech company I worked for began it’s crash and burn, and I didn’t have a cigarette? I knew I was a Non Smoker then. Missing GP means I Go To The Gym.

After GP tonight, I had another one of those moments, when I went down to the fitness room and saw every machine I’d ever used occupied. (A rarity in the mid-evening, the fitness room guy was even surprised.) What was left was a recumbent bike, which I’ve never used, and I almost left because of that whole "fitness equipment terrifies me" thing, but then I conjured up Jeanne, and reminded myself that it was just technology I had to figure out, so I did. I did that for about 15 minutes until an EFX thing opened up, and switched to my comfort zone. But even THEN, after five minutes on that, which I’ve always done on manual/quickstart, when I moved my magazine I kicked it into the preset course selector thing, and I’ve been intimidated by that, worried that it would be too hard or that it go into warp speed overdrive and pitch me into a wall or something, but instead, I rolled with it, and did 25 minutes of a "weight loss interval" course, and…. survived!

I also signed up for Move & Improve, a spring exercise motivation program thingie, run by the hospital and my school is a partner site or something, I don’t know, there was a table with free clementines, but you track your activity and I think they have prize drawings and all of that. I’m kind of excited to start tracking that (next week) as it’s super basic (not as intricate as sparkpeople) and hey, prizes!

Anyway. It feels weird to feel like I have my shit together right now.Especially the gym thing, because the money stuff and work stuff is all brain work, which is my comfort zone. The body work is, and always has been, the most uncomfortable zone, and to be sort of… conquering that? Is pretty huge.