Håp!

Just got word that I am one of two finalists for a fellowship in Norway! Suddenly our dreams seem a lot more realistic. It's all out of my hands, but being one of two rather than one in an unknown number of applicants (there were actually only four, but I imagined dozens) makes it seem so much more possible...

Pengeknipe

Ack! Our finances, and all the unknown variables and the state of the market right now are really keeping me up at night. It's not like we're in money trouble or anything like that. We have no consumer debt at all, but we do carry two mortgages--one for the house in Norway and one for the house here in the US. The Norway mortgage, taxes, and insurance are covered by our rental income, so that takes care of itself. Our house payment here in the US is at a great (fixed) interest rate that we can easily afford on one salary (which is all we have). Yet still I lie awake worrying. Here are some of the numbers and scenarios that are keeping me up at night...

1. We figure we'll have a little over 700,000 NOK left on the Norway mortgage by the time we make the move. That figure used to be about 100,000 USD, but right now with the phenomenally weak dollar, it's about 140,000 USD!

2. Originally, when we made the plan to move back, we figured we might easily make around 100,000 USD on the sale of this house. Now, with the market softening here in the Northwest, that is probably not realistic any more. And even if we do make a goodly sum (we have a pretty good chunk of equity), that money may be essentially useless to us overseas. As the housing market gets worse, I begin to worry that we may not even get our down payment out of a sale, if we can even actually sell.

KE is admirably sanguine about the whole thing. He reminds me that I have made extremely good profits on the sales of the two houses I have previously owned, and that the hit won't do more than set us back a little. But it has been one of my primary life goals since about 2001 to become totally debt free. I dream of that day like other people dream about becoming a star or winning the lottery. I dream of being able to direct every penny or øre that I earn (other than taxes and such) to what I believe in and what I think is best for my family. I have been so eager to achieve this, and for a while it looked like it could happen simultaneously with the move. Now it's looking less and less likely, and I'm bummed about it.

3. Jobs. We have no idea what we'll be doing, whether one or both (or neither) of us will find work, or what kind of income we'll have. Since the house is a duplex we can always rent out half of it to help cover living expenses, and since we live very frugally our expenses won't be very high, but still we do need at least some kind of income stream!

4. Market timing. We don't have to move in June 2009. We just want to for symbolic reasons: we originally agreed to 5 years in the US, and it would also mark the completion of KE's bachelor's degree. It would give E the chance to go to pre-school in Norway and make friends there before real school starts for him. I moved to the house I grew up in when I was 4 and stayed there until I left for college, and I guess it seems natural to me that E would have a similar experience. But given how bad things are with the housing market (and how much work this house needs) and given that I have a good job with great job security, it might make sense to push back the move date a year or two. I'm leery of doing so because I know after a certain length of time inertia sets in, and it gets harder and harder to uproot.

Sigh. There are no answers to any of these issues, no clear indicator of what is smart and what is stupid. Meanwhile, at 3 o'clock in the morning the crushing weight of two mortgages and an uncertain future can really get to me!

Hjemmefronten

Among the things that one doesn't think about at first when one decides to up stakes and move overseas is how much time and energy goes into the home that one is leaving. This past month has been filled with tending the home fires, both metaphorically and more literally. We've been doing taxes, visiting elderly relatives, looking at paint samples, and getting bids to have the exterior of our house painted. These tasks have a tendency to strengthen ties rather than make it easier to detach oneself.

I'm really excited to get the exterior painted, and have plans for some small repairs to the interior over the summer. And in the mail today the local neighborhood newsletter announced that a neighborhood-wide garage sale is being planned for July. I am thrilled, and already sent off an email to get involved. It will be a fantastic way to start paring down more of the material goods that are lurking all over the place in our house.

Spring has also arrived here in the Pacific Northwest, and our very large (and very uncouth) yard is starting to pull itself together and start looking pretty again. All those corners that look dismal in the gray, wet winter, are starting to come to life. I think every year when spring comes, KE perks up and starts to reconsider the plan to move back to Norway. Then the summer heat comes along and he starts longing for home again. I'm getting used to his cycles.

But all in all, April is feeling a little strange and unsettling. The nesting instinct is surprisingly strong.

Ut på tur, aldri sur

One of my biggest fantasies about our new life in Europe is that we will become one of those geeky families that travels around in a VW van visiting historical sites all over Europe, and that we will do tons of hiking and cross-country skiing all over Norway. The problem with the fantasy is that I don't like getting dressed or off the sofa, and would always rather read a good book than go outside, so I'm a little concerned that the fantasy is more of an impossible dream.

The latest issue of Norway.com Magazine (didn't know that the magazine existed, although I do refer to the website occasionally) contains lists of the top ten hikes and cross-country skiing. Clearly I have to do those things, even if it means getting dressed to do so. The whole cabin-to-cabin thing maintained by Den norske turistforening fascinates me. Here they are:

Top hikes:

• Besseggen: of Peer Gynt fame. They say that over 35,000 people hike this trail each summer, which really doesn't sound very fun, even though I would love to see this topographical oddity first hand.

• Knutshøe: An alternative to Besseggen itself. Apparently you get great views of the ridge and lakes from here.

• Mugnetind: An easy trail just inside Jotunheimen, apparently.

• Rasletind: A 2000 meter climb in Jotunheimen.

• Skogstien: This is the easy hike at Beitostølen. Even at my worst this one wouldn't worry me. Apparently there are some pilgrim sites along the trail.

• Bydin, Eidsugarden, Olavsbu, Skogadalsboen, Ardal: A four-day trip across Jotunheimen.

• Galdhøpiggen and Glittertind: Scale Norway's two highest mountains in three days. I'm not sure that this is realistic. It should be the last one on the list for me.

• Lappstien, Heinseter, Rauhellern, Marbu, Krossbu, Helberghytta, Rjukan: A six-day cabin to cabin trek. This one sounds less grueling.

• Haukeliseter, Hellevasbu, Litlos, Sandhaug, Lagaros, Mogen, Rjukan: Okay, so I've actually hiked the first three stations along this route, before veering off toward the western fjord country. It practically killed me. I was carrying a heavy pack, which is essentially suicide when hiking in the Hardangervidda. You don't need a pack as long as you can make the full stretches between the wonderfully stocked cabins along the route. The guide book will tell you something like "seven hours" between cabins, but that means without any breaks at all (and no dawdling at rivers where the bridge has been washed away and you need to figure out how to get across rushing glacial run-off). I did this when I was 20 pounds lighter. I'd like to think that I will do it again with my additional wisdom of what not to pack, but I'm not sure I have the courage and stamina. We'll see, and I'll keep thinking about it.

• Skala
  

The top cross-country ski tours are supposedly:

• Bymarka (outside Trondheim)

• Oslomarka (outside Oslo): this I could probably manage. They say to start at Holmenkollen at the base of the ski jump, and also mention a 6 kilometer trail from Sognsvann to Ullevaalseter or to Kikut (14 kilometers). What they don't mention is all the hills. Cross-country skiing is great except for the downhill parts. Yiikes.

• Lillomarka (also outside Oslo): also reasonably likely. They say to start at Maridalsvannet and ski to Lilloseter (12 kilometers).

• Geilo

• Birkebeinerrennet: a traditional 56 kilometer race. Not in a million years would I participate, although I will happily watch it on television!

• Hallingdal

• Kruk i Valdres

• Hafjell

• Trysil

• Drammensmarka

Hjemmeværende

I've just been reading Daddy Dialectic, a blog by and about stay-at-home dads and intelligent parenting. It has me thinking about some of our negotiations as a couple and a family over the past four years.

I am the career-oriented, ambitious one. KE could care less, and quite brilliantly set up his life to stay out of the rat race. It's funny how we remember the early discussions so differently: I'm convinced he said he wanted to be a stay-at-home dad, he swears he didn't. Somehow he ended up being one any way. I had the dream job that we had switched continents for me to get, he wasn't up for trying to start up his business again, and had always wanted to get a university degree, so we figured he'd kind of just take classes and take care of the baby who was on the way.

Hah! It's been a bit more than that--he is a full-time student and we split childcare, with a few hours of help each week from my mother. I'd say it varies between about 30-40% for me to 70-60% for him in terms of how we split the child care. Obviously it was more me during the 15 months of breast feeding. We've both sacrificed a lot, but KE has definitely sacrificed more than me. He lives for the day that we actually get into a decent day care (we tried a crappy one for 3 weeks and are holding out for the good one where we're still, 3 years and 3 months into parenthood, on the waiting list).

Now, with the move back to Norway in the works, we're in an odd position of negotiating again. He'll be far more likely than me to find work, and I will be giving up a career that I truly love, and am pretty darned good at. I have no idea what I'll be doing. Maybe just sitting around the house feeling bitter? Rashly going back to school? Trying to write a novel? Turning into a Stepford-wife? Thing is, by the time we're there, there won't really be all that much time before our son is in school. I guess for the first time this evening I have started thinking that maybe I should just focus on trying to be a stay-at-home mom for the last 1-2 years before the kid is packed off to compulsory education. Could I actually do that? And be any good at it? And not bore him out of his mind?

What do these stay at home parents actually do? I mean the hip smartypants ones who write blogs with cool names and read everything. I spend hours and hours at a stretch with our son, but my laptop is always lurking, and email is always coming in (and going out, I'm afraid), and I always know that KE will be home in just a while to relieve me so that I can go off into another room and work (as if I haven't already been halfway working already). Guilt, guilt, guilt. What would my life look like if I didn't have my (wonderfully intellectually challenging and fun) research and (disjointed and overwhelming) job to think about all the time, even when ostensibly playing with my son? My research has for years now been a source of enormous pleasure to me. Not to have those kinds of challenges to ponder and mull over all the time would feel so empty. Could play and housework and errands with my son become some kind of active meditation? Could I channel all my intellectual energy into everyday life?

Interiør

One of the odd twists in our plan to move to Norway is that we know exactly where we will be moving. When he crazily upped stakes and move to the US to be with me, KE wisely kept the duplex that he designed on a beautiful wooded lot on the Oslofjord. So, nearly all my fantasies and planning have been directed toward what that place is going to look like as not only "his house" but also "our home."

The unit we will live in will be tight for three people. The two bedrooms are miniscule. The open kitchen and living room are spacious, with cathedral ceilings and tons of natural light, but a little awkward (there's a chunk of a corner taken out where a dining area should be...). It is exceptionally hard not to get grand ideas for remodeling.

I wanted to be an architect as a teenager. I have dreamed my whole life of designing my own home (or even more of renovating a ramshackle old house with "great bones"), so it is hard to process the idea of moving into someone else's space (we only lived together there for 6 months before coming here, so it has yet to feel like "my" house too). Back then KE freaked out when I alphabetized his books, so I sometimes dread what will happen when I want to paint the walls. Yet at the same time he says he realizes it is important for me to make my mark and feel that it is my home too. Sometimes I feel oddly un-emancipated, like a mail order bride or something. And why I should become so obsessed with decorating when I'm all about saving money is a little troubling. I've wanted an aesthetically pleasing home for years, but have always been too transitional and too cheap to commit to really decorating, buying quality furniture, or even just nesting like normal people do. I guess I have been perching rather than nesting for my entire adult life.

So now I really am gearing up to nest. I want a home that is aesthetically pleasing, comfortable and inviting, super space-efficient, and ecologically responsible. Since I have decided to sell nearly everything here in the US, that means starting over with the basics. I've been combing the resale sites and researching products in Norway and have found a few things:

• I've just discovered Jensen mattresses while reading the raging debates over Hästens mattresses from Sweden on apartmenttherapy.com. Norwegian produced Jensen mattresses are apparently equally comfortable and chemical free, but for a more reasonable price than their Swedish counterparts.

• We've both decided that we really like the lovely natural sheepskins that are so common in Norway (often for babies to sleep on). The ancient breeds have amazingly colorful wool, and would be perfect on the backs of the leather chairs that my sister-in-law is keeping for us (I know that's a lot of dead animal, and probably gruesome for some, but I kind of dig the whole barbarian thing).

• And then, since the floors are tiled, we'll need rugs. I sort of thought I'd want "real" oriental carpets of some kind, but then I found Ledaal, a Norwegian company that makes beautifully simple rugs that are much more minimalist (and thus much more soothing to my addled brain), and now I'm thinking that's the way to go.
  

Oh, and did I mention that I want to paint the exterior of the house black?

Underveis

On norwayfarer.blogspot.com I set up the problem my family had: staying in the Pacific Northwest where I'm from, and where I have a great job, or moving to Norway, where my husband is from. The move would entail an uncertain future for us both career-wise and would be unfortunate in some respects because my mother lives here, but would have great cultural benefits for us and for our son (although he adores his grandma, our place in Norway would be the perfect place for him to grow up and go to school).

In the intervening months we have come to our decision: the move is in the works! There is a lot of anxiety attached to it, including the worry of selling a house in what's looking more and more like a recession, selling off (almost) everything I own, and figuring out how to make the actual move. Luckily we have a great house to move back to. It's a duplex with two 800 square foot units that have been rented out the whole time we've been here in the states (coming up on four years).

Basically, once the decision was made, everything has started falling into place. Despite some trepidation (I'm terrified of ending up working retail), I'm actually looking forward to starting over in Norway. I'm pursuing some job options and toying with the idea of either going back to school or trying to write full time.

So, the countdown to June 2009 has begun...