Merry Day After

Last night in bed (in G's childhood bedroom) I figured out that of the 8 winter holidays (Thanksgiving and Christmas) we've celebrated since A. was born, six have been spent traveling, and two have been spent at home. We've spent two Thanksgivings in AZ, and two Thanksgivings as well as two Christmases in Portland.

It's exhausting, especially with two children, both of whom turn into Demon Spawn when overtired and overstimulated.

So. Anyway. We looked at a house today across the street from G's sister here in Portland. Very nice neighborhood, big ol' house, lots of very dark floral wallpaper and rust shag carpet. It's not exactly for sale, but the guy is a widower who knows the house is too big for him and is thinking about moving out, eventually. His son showed us the house, and gave us a price that the guy would move out tomorrow for (for which the guy would move out tomorrow?). A bit of a stretch for us, but a pretty good price considering the size of the house, the lot, and the considerable resale value if we updated it. And it's not THAT much more than our house in CA would sell for.

Sigh. I'm all for relocating as long as it's hypothetical. But as soon as it moves into the realm of the possible, I freak out. On the whole, I'm opposed to change. When we returned from looking at this house, G. dove into real estate and job listings. I busied myself collecting recipes and happiness tips from several years of my mother-in-law's Family Circle magazines, ignoring any large decisions that might need to be made.

It rains here. A lot. It can get really cold and there's ice storms, too. I do not know how to drive in snow. You have to put a coat on when you go outside. And yet, everyone has detached garages. Go figure.

Driving in California, you have to get the hell out of the way to avoid accidents. Driving in Oregon, you have to stop. In the middle of the street, sometimes, because that's what everyone else expects you to do.

The idea of getting a driver's license from another state is freaky to me - I feel like such a wimp but I've literally never been more than an hour from SF. Can I hack Northwest Life? Do I want to leave all my friends and my sister down here? Well, no, of course not. But I don't think they'll all come with me.

A. has a cousin just 7 months older than him nearby in CA, and in OR, Ben would have a cousin 7 months younger. I guess that's how we'll decide - which son do we love more? (just kidding).

I have a feeling that when we return to CA, this will move back into the hypothetical arena and we'll occasionally bring it up as a possibility sometime in the future and I won't really have to make any decisions. Just how I like it.