It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

It is amazing, really, how everything can change so quickly. So much has happened in the last few weeks. I want to get it all down, record it, but it still seems like such a jumble. And it's going to sound easy and happy, something I am still getting used to.

Let's start with the neighborhood.

It's perfect.

The first day we were here, really within the first half hour, two little girls showed up at our door with handmade cards welcoming Girlie. A few weeks prior, I had run into a woman at a nearby park who knew some of the families in Girlie's school. She emailed the PTA president who filtered our info down to the families on our new street. The girls who live here were so excited to have someone their age moving in. Some more emailing and they knew the day we'd arrive. Apparently there was some giddy spying going on, peeping through curtains and such, and as soon as we pulled up, the girls sprung into action.

And their mothers? One of them pumped water out of my garage when it flooded on moving day and then invited me over for cocktails a few days later. We've had a group cookout every Sunday night since moving in. We drove to the beach for the day with seven kids between us. These are good people.

It is the kind of place, the kind of street, where all the kids run between yards. Fences were taken down to make it easier. Mothers pass the kids back and forth, no one can cross the street, but between the houses, the children can be anywhere. It is the kind of childhood I have always wanted for Girlie and Little Guy (though he is still a little too young to run free) and until now, we've never landed in a place that had it. You don't call to arrange playdates, you send your kid over to knock. The girls started a nature club and Girlie comes home dirty every night. How have we not had this until now?

So I want to pinch myself. Or maybe keep quiet about it. Or maybe shout it from the rooftops. And that is just about the neighborhood. There is the downtown writing class. The amazing preschool I found for Little Guy. The friends we've made already. This cute cute house. The subway.

Home

Finally!

We're in.

And it's as if all of the furniture I have acquired up to this point was meant for this house and only this house. Plus, I scored the best rug ever from craigslist.

Stay tuned for some pictures, I think the next box I will unpack is the camera!

The "Situation"

Has it been over a week since I graced you with my presence?

Been a little mental over the preparations for moving, especially trying to run around to find window treatments that aren't crappy or cheap looking but not custom made. And they have to block enough light so that my kids will start sleeping past sunrise and hang such that they don't interfere with the radiators. That particular combination pretty much doesn't exist, so I ended up ordering a conglomeration of curtains and shades a' la Pottery Barn AND Land of Nod, which I will attempt to patch together in a way that is neither completely ghetto yet regrettably, most likely not exactly stylish.

Hubs' car is piled high with boxes of curtains, two new potty seats, two new room fans, and a large package of TP, waiting to go to the new place tomorrow. My car is equally loaded with new-sed furniture I found for Little Guy's big boy room on craigslist. I scored a great set at almost 1/3 of the original price, the only catch? The people were moving out just two days before we could get in to our new place so it has been "stored" in our car since this weekend. Fabulous.

Tomorrow morning I roll over to the new place bright and early to get the keys and then FINALLY on Saturday our stuff arrives from the central storage in New Jersey.

I can't wait to see my couch again. Hopefully it hasn't adopted a fake tan or cheesy nickname, but if it has, I don't think I'll care.

Top Ten List

Ten days until we get our stuff back from storage.

The top ten things I can't wait to get my hands on:

1. My fancy extra-sharp kitchen knife. So over sawing the carrots in pieces with the cheesy dull apartment knives.

2. The Whirley-pop popcorn pot. Nothing else even comes close to making tasty stovetop popcorn. And don't even get me started on microwave popcorn. Bleh.

3. My robe, not sure why didn't I bring it with me.

4. Our bed, complete with extra-soft sheets and the perfect pillows. Ahhh, I can't wait.

5. The lavender thingy that I microwave for headaches. Could have used it more than a few times, like last night... and the other day.

6. My bathing suit cover-up. Schlepping to the pool in a t-shirt isn't cutting it.

7. My sun hat.

8. My shoes, especially the silk ones that wrap around the ankles and my one pair of Prada heels. Oh and my Kors sandals. Come to think of it ,better get a pedi.

9. My straightening iron. Haven't used it in ages, but now I need to wrangle my east coast frizz.

10. The drinkware. Sipping microbrews from a juice glass and they call these wine glasses? And my favorite coffee mug...

Lobsta

Yesterday was a particularly crazy day with the kids, mostly Little Guy. It was supposed to storm in the afternoon, so I took them to see Toy Story 3, Little Guy's first movie. I think the excitement of going to the theater led to a shortish nap. Afterwards he was literally bouncing off the walls.

Overall, I didn't feel the greatest about taking him. The movie themes were more mature and darker than the original. A little much for an almost three year old, though the eight year old loved it. I'll give myself a C- on parental judgement for that one, only slightly redeemed because he did sit all the way through it.

Anyway, I had one of those end of the day dinner preparations where I was stopping every two seconds avert some disaster.

Hubs came home a little late and by the time we got the kids to bed, I could barely form sentences. I slunk to the couch, popped some Top Chef on the DVR (this season not so much, by the way), and mumbled responses whenever he tried to chat with me. Poor guy, I am usually all over him to have adult conversation in the evening, and then when he's into it, I send him away. You lose some, you lose some.

Anyway, this weekend we're taking the maniacs up to Maine to join some friends for a 40th birthday. There will be lobster, or lobsta as they say up here, and Shipyard beer and blueberry pie.

That should do it.