FEBRUARY 29, 2004

Changes in the household

The past several weeks have been busy ones in our household. Everyone should know by now that we have a baby on the way, which is offering no shortage of bedeviling sensations, challenges and unanticipated tasks. By now our child is adept enough to jump when startled, cover its ears when bothered by a loud noise, and occasionally flutter around for sport. The complexities of maternity clothes are now a frequent topic of discussion – it seems that there is a large window of one's pregnancy in which normal clothes are too small but maternity wear is too large. The prospect of buying slightly larger clothing to carry us through to the real maternity-clothes period, plus the warning from a post-pregnant friend that Jenni will outgrow even the first round of maternity wear, necessitating a second, has me pining for the return of the burlap sack to the cutting edge of fashion. I guess it's good preparation for buying clothes for a kid.

Another major development has called for some adjustment as well. Just before we were due to leave on a trip to San Francisco last month, Marcel, Jenni's grandfather, came to me with complaints of some serious stomach pains. I took him to the hospital and, after several hours spent waiting in the ER on a gurney (no, there wasn't room for both of us) and a couple of tests, doctors determined that Marcel's colon had ruptured and was leaking into his body cavity. Emergency surgery that evening went well, with doctors removing about a foot of plumbing, and Marcel recovered in the hospital and then a rehabilitation center while we were on our trip. By the time we returned home, he had moved into an assisted living facility here in Bryan, with some trepidation but some enthusiasm as well. For him, this meant a more stimulating atmosphere with many people his age and someone to feed him three square meals a day; for us, this meant not having to move into our own place in June, which we had planned to do in advance of our new addition. We made arrangements with Jenni's mother and uncle, who own the place, and then set about rearranging things to our liking.

Karen did the same, updating several features of the house that Marcel would never allow. The cracked maroon tile in his living/sleeping room and the linolium in the kitchen and hallway were both replaced by new tile, with materials and labor donated by Jenni's father, Roy, who is the third-generation owner of a local tile shop. We removed much of the old furniture, giving some pieces away, putting some in storage and turning others to new uses; removed the two cabinets that flanked the fireplace and divided the two rooms, and opening up the Usonian-inspired living space; painted, replaced curtains, organized tools, and bought a new couch (our first) and a couple of smaller pieces of furniture. We were able to move our food from a refrigerator on the porch and a makeshift pantry in the laundry room into the kitchen, a change that has saved us miles of walking and some serious dinner preparation time already. I just wish now I'd worn a pedometer and a stopwatch during our previous arrangement so I'd know just how much.

With the new space, a few good habits have crept back into our lives. We converted Marcel's living/sleeping room into our living room and our old living room into a library and office, and set up Jenni's yard-sale-find light table and my junk-store-find old metal desk, allowing us to move our computer from our bedroom closet. I splurged and bought a new coffeemaker to replace our handed-down four-cup brewer, largely in order to be able to serve coffee to more than two people, myself included, at a time. Now, when I rise at a quarter to six to write, my smart coffeemaker, programmed and prepped the evening before, has already finished its task. A bread machine and yogurt maker have also resurfaced and are getting regular use. We have thrown caution and video rental cards to the wind and signed onto Netflix. We're working through our first shipment of DVDs, and currently have 123 more films in our queue.

In short, we're doing some serious nesting. Thankfully, that's not all, though. I've been working on a young adult novel since November, having shelved my Amsterdam book for the time being, and have 30,000 words and counting, which I estimate to put me at around 1/3 of the way through. I have also accepted a job offer, and will be leaving the Eagle to work at Texas A&M next month on a program that develops curriculum materials to help rural Texas teachers teach environmental science to sixth- to eighth-graders.