Those Were the Days...:-)

We've finally begun unpacking in earnest and one of the joys has been finding family photos. I found a small book of wedding photos that didn't make it into our wedding album...and I opened it up and for a second, I couldn't believe we were ever so young. It was only six years ago (seven years in April) but I looked at the picture of my husband and I under the shady trees at Heritage Park, or the huge grin my husband had on his face as I walked down the aisle, and I thought about all the things that Rob and Krista hadn't gone through yet.

We hadn't learned to depend on each other. We hadn't yet gone through 2006 (the year that will forever remain in my memory as both the best and the utter worst of times.) We hadn't moved into (and out of) three apartments. We hadn't been parents yet. We hadn't gone through the roller coaster of a high risk pregnancy and a child in the NICU. We hadn't set up one night playing "pass the baby" as we dealt with an inconsolable preemie newborn who wanted to do anything but sleep.

As much as we loved each other then---enough to get married and make all sorts of very scary promises about life and love and fidelity and friendship in front of family and friends---I can honestly say that no matter what we thought love was then, we didn't know the half of it. Love isn't all flowers and poetry--most of the time, it's just about being there for the other person, no matter how bad it gets, or what life throws at you, and rising in the morning to do it all over again because you promised your partner you would.

So, nearly seven years out and after a whole range of ups and downs and everything in between...I wouldn't change a thing. We were younger then, but we're wiser and happier now. :-)

Surfacing and Growing :-)

Well, after a week where we were all sick (again) and our water heater leaked (but was replaced,) I feel like it's been ages since I posted though it's only been two weeks. Whew. The next time I say I want to move---unless it's to a house---someone please slap me. Or send me away to a nice padded room somewhere....:-P

Tonight my hubby and the wee one and I went out to a local Italian restaurant whereupon our daughter---who is a whopping three years old and three feet tall---informed us that she was too short. I don't know where she's getting this (though it might be just her noticing comparisons; her dad is 6'2 and I'm not precisely short either), but I wonder if she's starting to make the connection between the things the "big kids" can do and the things that she can't yet.

The thing is, she is growing (and how) into someone who's neither her dad nor I, but herself. I looked at her tonight and was reminded of a poem Khalil Gibran wrote years ago about children in The Prophet:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

Moved In and Worn Out

Well, as of about 2pm yesterday afternoon, we are FINALLY moved into our new place. (The shower no longer leaks, by the way, though the jury is still out as to whether we actually have a leaking pipe somewhere, at least we can't see it. Yet.) There are boxes everywhere and we're both about as tired as you'd expect. But we got through it with no broken bones and minimum of aggravation, so that's something.

Gaaaahh, the boxes. I knew we had a lot of stuff (a fair amount of which is baby stuff that we can't get rid of since we want to have another child) but the sheer amount of Stuff is mind-boggling. And of course, what does the resident toddler want to do but climb in the boxes and pull things out of them? Yeah. We've managed to distract her since Rob is removing bricks from our back patio (long story--the short version is that they definitely are a hazard, so our former landlord is taking them) and she's discovered the joy of earthworms and salamanders and dirt. Which provided an opportunity to talk about what these littlest creatures do for the earth and how we need to leave them alone and let them do it....but if she's like every other little kid, I'm sure she'll be bringing them inside soon enough. LOL.

So that's our life, for now. New beginnings in a new place. :)

Here Comes the Rain Again....

...no, not the rain outside (though we've had plenty of that in the last week and we'll probably have more next week.) The rain I'm referring to is the type that fell from our ceiling late last night, as my husband was taking a shower in our upstairs bathroom.

Yeah. Our first night in the new apartment and we have not one, but four leaks. The management has been paged (and paged again...I'm nothing if not persistent) but we've still heard nothing back. It's not so much of a problem today--it's Sunday and given the amount of dust Rob inhaled yesterday while packing, his allergies have pretty much gone nuclear, so today was going to be a slow day anyway.

But tomorrow, I have to go back to work. Which means I'll have to get up even earlier, go over to our old apartment, take a shower and leave from there. And Rob will have to do the same, if he wants to get a shower before resuming our moving tomorrow. Can we say "massive inconvenience," boys and girls?

And I know that...manure...happens. Along with lots of other things. But we paid good money to move into this place, an apartment that was "move-in ready." Somehow, I doubt "move-in ready" means the waterfall from the leaking shower.

Le Sigh.

Packing, and other exercises in frustration

So, I've had a three day weekend and although I've gotten some packing done, it's mainly been in the tossing of things no longer needed that I've really been excelling. However, I did discover one thing that I really should have known:

Tossing old baby bottles in front of the toddler who used to use them...is just asking for trouble. Because no matter how much you tell said toddler that she's a big girl now and doesn't use those any more...she won't believe you. No matter what. (And sometimes...yeah, I don't believe she used those either, though I know perfectly well that she did. They're so small.)

Then there are the boxes. As I joked to one of my friends, our boxes apparently came with a toddler inside. Because our daughter just wants to play and play and play with those boxes...which is great for her imagination, but not so great if you're trying to pack with those same boxes.

So, yeah. Looks like we'll be packing after she goes to bed tonight. :-)

Four days and counting until we can start moving....and 17 days until we have to be out of here for good. Whew. :)

And Our New Word for the Day is....

..."No." Or, "NO!!!!" Thus sayith the toddler.

Yeah. Everything we ask the toddler these days is met with a "No." (Or, if she's particularly in a snit---stomped feet, folded arms, lower lip out and the inevitable, "It's not FAIRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!" Yes, someone discovered the joys of Time Out after that episode, how did you know? :-D)

And yes, I know this is all normal for her age and stage, that she's acting like she's supposed to and it's our job as parents to make sure she knows what behaviors we will (and won't) allow. And I'm okay with that---the best piece of parenting advice I ever got was, "Don't become a parent if you're afraid of being the bad guy." (Personally, I think that advice should be handed out with birth control, but that's just me :-P)

But I'm getting awfully tired of "No." And don't get me started on "fair" :-)

Passages, Large and Small

My husband and I are going to be moving to a larger apartment next month. This was not exactly in the plan, but we've vastly outgrown our itsy bitsy teeny weeny apartment (which was fine for the two of us but when two became three, and three came with baby stuff and then AND GOT BIG...yeah. It's time.) We were supposed to have been in a house by now but if there's one thing 2009 taught me (again) is that sometimes, things really aren't in my control---or anyone else's.

So I wrote out our notice to our landlord---it'll go out with tomorrow's mail---and I feel a pang. It's not that I want to stay (gods forbid---when I say we're cramped, I'm NOT kidding) or that we're making the wrong decision in moving. But this place was our home for almost five years and a lot of good (and bad) things happened here. I found out I was pregnant here, and miscarried here. My husband came home from coronary bypass surgery here, and our daughter was conceived here. My water broke here, and five weeks later, we brought our daughter home from the NICU. My cat passed away while we lived here. And so on, and so on. Life happened, in other words.

I don't know who will live here after us. That's the thing with apartments---they're supposed to be transitory. But I wish them well, whoever they are.

And to anyone who may be reading this...may 2010 bring all for you that you didn't get in 2009, and may you stay safe and healthy with those you love.

Blessed be.