STORY FIVE

GETTING EDUCATED, MOVING HOUSE AND BIRTHDAY ONE, or

MESA STATE AND THE NESTING INSTINCT

The baby was “it” for the next several months. We were eating, sleeping, thinking, doing everything with a big “B” for baby. This was a brand new experience for the wife and in a way for me too. I did not get much into babyhood the last time around because of my busy work and school schedule coming home most time when the baby was asleep and having hardly a chance to hold or get to know the baby until he was at least one year old. This time it was different. I was home and Mom asked me to assist. She was often tired, especially the first few weeks, and I even tried to cook a little, but it was a disaster, so we tried frozen dinners for a while, and that worked temporarily. My spouse was puzzled that her Korean acquaintance did not spend a few days or a week with her to help nourish her back to normal with some native Korean dishes; as it was we hardly heard from them or saw them. It was a disappointment to the wife, who thought that type of behavior was not very Korean. It was up to me to substitute the best way I could, which I agree with the new mother, was not as good as she wished. Nevertheless I busied myself with the normal house chores, went shopping and took care of the errands and of course accompanied her on numerous trips to her gynecologist and pediatrician. We felt the baby was too young to be taken out to eat with us so that was not a viable alternative. My Wife quickly lost whatever little weight she had gained, and kept losing more. Finally after dropping enough weight to concern even her, she attempted to try various foods and began to cook a little more, experimenting with Korean as well as American dishes. Once or twice a few kind ladies stopped by to show her how to prepare this dish or that and slowly, she caught on. It was not her fault really, because at home her mother did all the cooking. The fact that she was married rather quickly and somewhat unexpectedly, left her unprepared when it came to home economics, a subject that was not one of her better ones in school as well. We managed, sort of, for several months, when the spouse decided that she was not making sufficient progress in studying English on her own.

She had found out through her volunteer study program, as well as some literature, that Mesa State had an auxiliary training program, teaching English to foreign born students, many from the orient. She applied and went for an interview with the Director of the program, who accepted her as a student. Since summer session was just about to start, she did not waste any time and began her classes. There were only two classes that she started with, but they ran every day and she also had lots of written homework together with studying and memorizing new vocabulary. That meant she was not only busy in school, but when she was home for a good part of the time as well. Suddenly I was the Daddy, and the Nanny all rolled into one. Since the baby was on bottle formula, I learned to feed him, change his diapers, put him in for naps, and so on. After a while, the baby wanted just me to feed him, and at night if he woke up for whatever reason, he wanted just me to walk him and take care of him. It was sort of an honor, I guess, but one I could have easily forgone. With the baby, the house, errands, and helping Mom with her schoolwork, I did not have time to worry about what to do next. We did manage to plan for a little company from time to time consisting mainly of fellow students from her ESL program and sometimes the faculty as well. The fall semester began within a month of the end of the summer semester, so that my schedule was much the same, and I continued to be fully occupied. My spouse made great strides however, and her English improved remarkably.

Not only did she improve in her linguistic capability but she also began to notice that some things were not exactly the way she wanted them at the house. The kitchen in particular was a bother to her. The range was an older electric model and the heating elements were hard to control, temperature wise. The refrigerator was an older one without self defrost and a small freezer. The paint was an out of style orange-brown, the tile floor was faded, the counter-tops an unbecoming color, and so on. The whole mess was remodeled, and included a gas line into the house to accommodate a new gas range of the latest model, plus a new refrigerator, new counter-tops, flooring, paint, tiled accent walls, and so forth, or a ten thousand dollar job. My honey felt better, but the house, a brick rancher facing one of the city parks with a broad view of the Monument mountains, still had some drawbacks in it that were not really taken care of. The wife felt that with the baby, the house was still somewhat small, although it did have three bedrooms, none very big, and one of which I used as an office. She also found the layout of the rooms to be a bit antiquated, preferring a modern open style.

I finally got the picture, especially when in her few precious free hours, we would drive around neighborhoods just looking of course, but always managing to pick up the real estate brochures at the local supermarket to study at great length. The plain fact was, the lady needed her own home, in her own style and in her own image. We painted the house, spruced up the yard, made sure everything was in working order, and contracted with a realty agency for a ninety day trial run. Lots of people saw the house but there was no contract. The ninety days were up and we did not renew the realty option to sell. I was not sorry at all, rather I was somewhat relieved, thinking of all the packing, costs, obligations, and the normal homeowner headaches. The wife too, was more involved with her school, for beginning with the fall session, she was authorized to start her first course in the regular college program, although she was still going to the last of her ESL classes. She almost did not make it. No, I am not speaking of her grades, since these were in the straight “A” category, but physically.

_

You see, I had a folding mountain bike, which the spouse had learned to ride over the summer. She was starting to use it to go college, some eight blocks away. One day, while crossing Seventh Street, with three lanes of traffic stopped for her to cross, and nothing in the fourth lane, she proceeded to cross the street. A fast moving Datsun sports sedan, driven by a young lady, turned the corner off North Street on to Seventh and seeing the lane wide open, sped up the street. Unfortunately she did not notice the traffic stopped, or was not thinking, but she did manage to catch the wife who was walking her bike across the Street in such a manner as to spin her completely around, totaling the bike and putting some good sized bruises on my spouse's mid-section. They took her to the hospital emergency room, where upon examination, the attending physician informed her that she just suffered some bruising. Perhaps the bike, a heavy duty one, shielded her somewhat. It took her six months before she felt normal again, although she was able to continue her schooling without interruption. Meanwhile in mid-winter, a lady came to our house, asking if we were still willing to sell. She had a friend in the neighborhood and liked the house and the view.

The lady was in a hurry and wanted to arrange to close the deal within sixty days of contract. This placed us somewhat in a quandary and put a lot more pressure on us. We started to look for a replacement home in earnest, while at the same time asking ourselves if we wanted to remain in Grand Junction or relocate elsewhere. The more we looked and talked, the more the wife was convinced that we should stay in this area, even though it had some severe limitations. She did not want to go East, she did not want to go West. She just wanted to stay. I think she was just too new in the Country and, except for her one trip East really was not familiar with other places. We had looked at various neighborhoods before, here in Grand Junction, and decided that we really liked the North end of town the best. We had seen some homes in other parts of the city such as the Redlands, and in Clifton, but did not like their location. Then one week-end we drove into a development called Country Club Heights, consisting mostly of custom built homes. Both the area and housing styles appealed to my honey and we narrowed our search to that area. There was one house in particular that she thought would be of interest, but when I contacted the agent he informed me that the house just had been placed under contract and was no longer available. We looked some more, and found another house, somewhat modest in its outside appearance further on down the street. We viewed the home and liked its open style. The inside featured a cathedral type ceiling, a large kitchen, a step-down family room at one end with a formal living room and open dining room at the other, plus four upstairs bedrooms with the master bedroom fairly large, a spacious yard, two car garage, and it also appeared to be a well-built house. We opted for a contract. Our bid, a little below the asking price, was accepted, our financing approved, and we started packing in earnest. Luckily for me, my former home on the East coast had just been sold, so that I had the necessary down payment for the new home, which also was the most expensive one I had ever owned.

We moved in late February and took the next month to store things, unpack, hang

pictures, rearrange the furniture, and make the home felt, “lived in.” My spouse no longer wanted our former king-sized bed, which was a little lumpy in places, so we bought a queen-sized one instead. She also, quite correctly noted that the armchair and Lawson style sofa we had was really getting on in age (we had it custom made for my first marriage and it bad been upholstered two times) so that we found a very nice, but unfortunately somewhat expensive leather assemblage for our new living room. We also needed a refrigerator, and a washer and dryer, and these items were also purchased in time for our move into the new house. The wife finally had a partial say as to what furnishings, colors, and style she wanted. When everything was reasonably in order, we planned an open house. One of our business acquaintances, a part-time musician arranged to have another accompany him, so that we had music with our food and drinks. A number of classmates as well as neighbors and some faculty came, so that all in all, we had a nice crowd. Most people who saw the house thought we had a lovely home. Unfortunately so did the local tax assessor, who when it came to reviewing the next year's property taxes, increased them by some five hundred dollars over the previous year.

We were in our new home for two months, when the time came to plan for the baby's first birthday. Normally we would have a birthday party for the one year old. In Korea, however, there are two birthdays that merit special attention. The first one is when the baby is one year old, the other when a person reaches his sixtieth year. The two dates apparently meant that if you made it through the first year you have a good chance to continue living, while at the other end of the scale, if you made it to sixty, you would live to a ripe old age. These days we may look somewhat smugly at that, but if we remember their four-thousand year history, I am certain that it makes a lot of sense. The little boy's grandparents sent a special outfit that children so honored wear on their birthday. It is a traditional Korean costume, with baggy silk pants, an inner and outer jacket of fine embroidered fabric and some accessories to match. When it is time to start the activities, the child (especially if he is a boy -- an advantage for the Firstborn in a Korean family) is seated in his festive attire next to a low table. On the table are various items, representing either trades or professions; for example, a needle and thread may represent a tailor, while a stethoscope may stand for a doctor, a book for a learned person such as a professor, paper money for a banker or rich businessman, and so forth. The child, after looking and poking at various items, finally chooses one that he likes, which presumably then indicates his future vocation. So it was with ours. His Mom had a whole variety of different items spread out, including a borrowed stethoscope from the pediatrician, and everyone that came to the party was waiting to see just what the birthday baby would choose. Well, he poked and looked and touched a number of items, including the stethoscope that his Mom was wishing he would select since she is hoping he will enter the medical field, but when it was all over, he repeatedly patted a large book which had also been placed on the table before him. He was really interested in it. The wife predicted he may turn out to be a scholar or professor, but one never knows. To this day, though, books are still one of his favorite pastimes. One lady from the college was kind enough to videotape some of the action and we really appreciated that. Later, the baby opened some of his presents with the aid of Mom, and blew out a single candle on a small cake. After it was all over, he took his nap, a long one for a change. Summer session was going to start soon again and my honey took a Computers in Our Society course. She struggled through it and came out with her usual “A.”

As promised, dear reader, you have had a pleasant respite perusing this STORY. Since you may have completed it by now, please turn to STORY SIX for your next relaxing turn. Thank you.

© 1990 Herbert Holzbauer

Published @ 1997 edition S.p.N.LAUB