Crash

Little Guy had his first crash landing yesterday, one that required a trip to the ER, a few stitches, and several glasses of wine (me, not him). He was playing near the coffee table and tripped, splitting his left earlobe.

Yep. He lost his balance in the slightly too large slippers that I insisted he put on and then fell right into the boat anchor cement-topped coffee table that I decided to keep. My fault, all the way around.

He's okay, but I'm not really.

Extremes

So it's been pretty blustery here and yesterday, for the first time, I had serious doubts about hitting the road. It was, however, open play at the gymnastics studio and probably Little Guy's favorite part of the week. Lots of open space to run and jump, ropes to climb and swing from, giant pits of foam and trampolines. He needed it.

Okay, I needed it.

So I scraped the car, shoveled the sidewalk, and eased the mini-van onto the road. It was slushy, a little slippery on the turns, but safe enough for a ten minute drive. We just put new tires on the car and I can tell they make a big difference. I can't say that I've ever noticed my tires before now, so score one point for inclement weather.

This is it. I am in the thick of it, the worst of the weather. Today we had snow, then ice, followed by rain. Shoveling the driveway in the rain is the opposite of fun. Yesterday the plow came by like five times and this morning, once again, there was a boulder-sized chunk of ice in the driveway. I might have sworn at the plow driver.

I am going to really love spring this year.

Home

Whenever someone finds out we're from the south and that we relocated to Boston by way of Phoenix we get the same sort of thing- a look, something close to sympathy but with a little flash of snark, and the question, "so, how do you like it?"

I know what they are getting at. Yeah, there is the weather, and the traffic, and the cost of living that teeters on almost unaffordable, but still, the truth is, I love it.

I really love it.

We've moved around a good bit in the last few years and I am well aware of the fact that you take yourself wherever you go. In other words, the scenery changes, but the day to day is often the same. You always bring the baggage with you and despite best efforts to cram everything into a carry-on, the stuff you drag from place to place only gets heavier and more unwieldy. You can't simply move to a new place and start over.

Yet somehow, I am finding this change to be different. I feel a sense of belonging, of right-ness with my geography. It is something I have never experienced, a special and unexpected gift. It is like I found myself on a map. I am still the same, but here, in Boston, I am better at being me.

Relax already!

Somewhere in the process of moving across the country with two kids in tow (me, mostly on my own) and a crazy work travel schedule (Hubs, mostly on his own), Hubs and I forgot how to have fun together.

This year, we've resolved, if you want to call it that, to change things. First up, cross country ski lessons. After Christmas we went out and splurged on the gear. Last night we had our first lesson together followed by a late bite to eat nearby. We had such a good time, laughing and talking about the experience. It really felt like a date. We were having so much fun, in fact, that Hubs left his Blackberry in the car when we went into the restaurant. Seriously.

This morning I expected to be sore, but oddly enough I feel great, except that my right hand is a little tender from the death grip I had on my ski pole. The instructor kept telling us to relax our hands and hold the poles gently. After a good bit of shuffling back and forth on a mostly level track, I finally got a feel for the motion of the skis, but apparently I need to work on that relaxing thing.

More lessons on letting go. Ah the irony.

Happy New Year

Too bad there isn't always a vintage inspired blinky red sign hanging around to remind us!