If I had a million dollars, I would encourage Dan to invest and save about half of it any way he wanted because that would make him happy. I don’t totally understand his fascination with interest rates and mutual funds but I respect it and I’m sure I will be grateful for it when we retire.
Next, I would buy the Crate and Barrel couch I’ve had my eye on. And by “had my eye on” I mean I sat on it at my friend’s house this morning and decided I must have the same one. Then, I would buy a minivan except I was going to do that anyway, (really, I was, which is topic for another blog post) so I’m not sure if that counts. I would definitely go ahead and buy a new laser jet printer because I like how our old one never needs new toner but since ours is about 15 years old, it’s always telling me the tray is empty when it isn’t or some other bullshit, and you need all the stars to align in order for it to print anything and it usually involves a lot of cursing (if Dan isn’t home) or begging/whining (to get Dan to help me if he is home, God love him). And I would treat myself to some of the expensive stuff I drool over on Bludot.com or maybe I would head to Design Within Reach or Room and Board and have a little shopping spree.
Dan is always quick to remind me that one’s happiness plateaus or even decreases once one has enough money to live a comfortable life. This is apparently based on science. I know “comfortable” is subjective, but I think science refers to this term as having housing, heat in the winter, enough food, a reliable mode of transportation, good health, and enough money to save for retirement, kids’ college, etc. “Comfortable” does not mean having a vacation home, a private jet, a luxury car, or a Birkin bag (are those even still a thing?). And I hate to admit it but I think Dan is right. The most lucrative job I’ve ever had was a complete drag and even though I bought some cool stuff at that time, like my fancy carbon fiber custom triathlon bike, I was way happier when I was poor and looking for steady work because I had moved to Boulder, one of the most beautiful places on earth, and I had met Dan and I was totally completely butt-crazy in love with him. Which I still am, obviously, only now it’s in that oh so sexy six-years-and-one-kid-later-and-another-on-the-way-with-swollen-ankles kind of way
Right now I am deliriously happy because my article was published in Colorado Runner Magazine. I know, I’m probably supposed to be all casual and post the text of it with a quick note, like “This was originally published in the Jan/Feb issue of Colorado Runner” but that would be understated and understated is not how I roll. How I roll is checking my mailbox obsessively to see if the issue arrived yet, and when I can’t take the waiting anymore, calling the local running store to see if the issue is in yet, heading down there and buying two copies and wishing I had bought ten because I AM SO EXCITED TO SEE SOMETHING I WROTE IN A REAL MAGAZINE.
I would have done the happy dance right there in Boulder Running Company except that’s too weird, even for me. Instead I did what I probably would have done anyway, which was let Sweet Pea hide in the clothing displays and pretend I was about to leave without her because I couldn’t find her, which made her laugh maniacally.
I am also happy because I am pregnant. We really wanted another baby and even though I am nervous about having two (How long till I sleep through the night again? What if Sweet Pea feels sad and neglected? What if the baby has colic? What if the baby is sensitive and I have to give up dairy and wheat while I’m breastfeeding? What if I don’t leave my house for three months?), and even though this pregnancy sometimes makes me feel like I got run over by a train, I like not having to suck in my stomach, and I like having a little being inside me. Also, I really, really love babies. I love holding babies. I love how they snuggle and don’t really do anything. I love how they never say no and you don’t have to talk them into putting their shoes on or threaten to manhandle them during diaper changes. You can swear and gossip around them and even take them with you to the hair salon. I freaking love babies.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my toddler, too. As much as I miss Sweet Pea’s toothless smiles and her sweet baby cooing noises, I love her high pitched giggle and her little voice saying stuff like “Look at the moon!” when I didn’t even notice it in the first place. It never ceases to amuse me that she thinks she is really pulling one over on you when she hides in the closet. I love when she hands me my lip gloss and says, “Somes?” (Translation: Can I have some?). I love how she doesn’t look back when I drop her off at daycare. I love that if she wants to bang on the community drum in music class, she’s banging on the drum, even if the rest of the class is dancing with their moms while singing “Do You Know the Muffin Man.” I love when she’s hugging her baby doll and telling her “I love you.” I love when she gently pats my belly and says “Hi, baby.”
I’m happy that Dan usually gets out of bed first and starts breakfast most mornings. I’m happy that he was willing to watch part of an episode of Breaking Bad with me, although I am a bit perplexed and admittedly disappointed that he won’t watch any more with me. I love that he supports me, respects me, and challenges me. I also love that he rubs my feet once in a while and that he enjoys Sunday brunch as much as I do. (Boulderites: Have you tried Centro’s brunch? It may be our new fave. You really have to try the coconut fried banana small plate).
And oh my God does my new front door make me happy. It’s not stained yet and I haven’t had a chance to take a good picture of it but it will look like this. Our old door was an eyesore. I would post a picture, but I can’t figure out how to crop our address out of it and as much as I want to impress upon you the gravity of the Ugly Door Situation, privacy trumps full disclosure. But just so you know, it was purple (who paints a front door purple?) and it had a white security door that was reminiscent of prison.
And about the door- I realize I totally got off the topic of free stuff making me happy. But I felt it was only fair to share my true feelings of happiness about it. I hope you can still respect me.
This post was brought to you by the Finish the Sentence Friday (FTSF) Blog Hop.
Please visit the FTSF (Finish the Sentence Friday) blog hop hosts:
Stephanie at Mommy for Real
Kristi From Finding Ninee
Janine from Janine’s Confessions of Mommyholic