Over the river and through the woods.....and then through security checkpoints, a six hour flight, hitting the rental car counter....

I was a late bloomer as far as traveling goes. I never even rode on an airplane until I was 15 years old, and that was only from Maine to New York to appear on the Montel Williams Show. I'm not even kidding.

Air travel was magical to me. When I started dating Ben and flying off to exotic places (to me) like Georgia and California, I wondered how flying could ever get old to anyone. I would always book a window seat and watch in awe as we ascended and descended. During the flight, I was pumped. TV at eight bazillion feet? YEAH! Snackies while soaring over the Midwest? Yes, please! It was all magical, and I felt bad for the people who moaned and groaned about boarding a plane and zooming off to wherever they were going.

Now? I frigging hate flying anywhere, for any reason, unless I'm flying all by myself and have taken at least ten milligrams of Valium and don't have any luggage to deal with. And the in-flight movie better not have Jim Carey or Sandra Bullock in it, or I'm going to make the no-fly list.

Having family on the east coast while we live on the west coast = frequent flier miles being racked up, big time. I have a baby. A baby that wants to roam the cabin, drink my diet coke, and molest any passenger within two feet of us in a Hugh Hefner kind of manner. Since he can't be checked with the rest of our luggage, he has to accompany us in the cabin of the airplane, and he has completely killed any of the magic air travel used to hold. So, tomorrow we will be boarding a plane for the east coast. I have loaded the iPad with his favorite Sesame Street episodes, packed seven lollipops in my carry-on, selected a fine assortment of noisy toys that will hold his interest for at least 30 seconds while royally pissing off our fellow passengers for at least 3 hours, and I bought Benadryl. Because it turns out I'm not above knocking his little butt out for a few hours to finally get some peace and quiet while making the grueling trip back home.

Over the river and through the woods, indeed. I envy the simpleton that wrote that stupid song.

Things I've Been Doing, Part 2

I think this post is more to prove to myself that I actually finish things when I start them. Mostly. My seventh-grade teacher would probably disagree. Also, all of my other teachers from kindergarten through college would probably agree with my seventh grade teacher. Well, take this, Mr Kasper.

This was another dresser my in-laws brought to us. By now, you've probably noticed I need to read up on appropriate placement of hyphens. Don't worry, I've noticed, too. I should probably read up on the placement of commas while I'm at it.

Right. Anyway, this dresser was previously owned by someone with a sincere appreciation for floral decals. I sanded them off, because this was going to be Grady's dresser and he doesn't have any love at all for floral decals. If someone had told me that he was totally slacking on turning in homework assignments this trimester, I may have been more inclined to leave the floral decals on there and invite his closest friends over for a sleepover with the untouched dresser prominently displayed, but hindsight is 20/20, isn't it?

This is the final result. I was a little freaked out when I Googled the paint color I purchased to see it on other pieces of furniture because I kept coming up with tree stands that deer hunters has spray-painted to blend in with the surrounding forest. I wasn't really going for that kind of look. 

Fortunately, it turned out quite nicely with the redneck green and some new knobs. It's nice to have a place to put Grady's clothing. It's definitely freed up space in his built-in shelving for other junk that doesn't belong there. Please excuse the violent flash from my phone in this picture. I was trying to land a 747 while simultaneously getting a good shot of this dresser.

One Year

One year ago I was laying uncomfortably in a hospital bed, waiting to meet you. Your dad was waiting, too, except he was passed out in a recliner. I'll never understand how he was able to do that.

You have brought so much joy to our lives. Aidan and Grady are madly in love with you. I never imagined that little boys could care about how many teeth a baby has or worry so much about what kind of trouble you can get in to. Never once have they complained when you shut the Xbox off on them or swiped a piece of their candy, even if they were in the process of eating it. You are their very favorite thing in the whole world.

Your dad lives for you. I have never met a man so selfless when it comes to his child. Even after the most difficult days at work, he walks out of the building happy to see you. Most men would ask for a break when they get home, for 15 minutes to relax and watch the news or collect their thoughts. All your daddy wants is to snuggle you, play with you, and make you laugh. I think that after a full day of dealing with the people that have committed unspeakable acts against others, you remind him that there is still purity and innocence in the world. From the moment he met you in that delivery room, your dad has been a happy person. You are the baby he never thought he would have and it's so obvious how grateful he is for the opportunity to be a daddy.

I've been so blessed to stay at home with you. I spend every single day watching you grow. I will be here for all your "firsts," which is something I missed out on with your brothers because I was working two jobs during their early years and it still breaks my heart to think about. I love our time together during the day when everyone else is at school or work. I love that you always want me and reach for me when I walk by. I love how you look at me expectantly when you're tired, waiting for me to sing you your favorite songs so you can go to sleep. And even when I'm busy and have a thousand errands to run, I love that we can't get in and out of a store in under 20 minutes because everyone recognizes you, "that sweet baby," and has to talk to you, touch you or give you a special treat. You connect with everyone around you, whether it be a grandmotherly type or a hurried man in an expensive suit. People take the time to slow down and talk to you and you always reward them with one of your beautiful smiles for taking the time to stop and interact. You have such a special, sweet spirit.

Tomorrow, you're getting your first haircut. You'll be one year old and I suspect it will be one first after another. This year has flown by, and I'm so glad to have spent every single day of it with you. Just like your brothers, Lennox, you are perfect. I am so happy you came into our lives. I hope you never stop smiling at strangers. I hope you can always find the humor in Sesame Street. I hope you'll always want to share your snack. I hope you'll always love music. And I hope, at least for a few more years, you'll keep reaching for me whenever I'm nearby, and when you feel like you're too big to do that, I hope you will remember that your family will love and care for you. Even if you're too grown up to ask them to.

I love you, my sweet little man.

Things I've Been Doing, Part One, Take Two

*It was brought to my attention in the comments section of this original post that the first time I posted this, the pictures weren't coming up. I have no explanation for this. Just conspiracy theories.







There were a few major perks that came along with moving to California, like being within driving distance to In N Out Burger. That's NICE. My thighs don't think so, but who cares? Another perk was that Ben is making more money out here. True, the cost of living can be a little higher if you don't shop around, but it's really not that different than living in Maine where you can absolutely count on paying a small fortune each winter to heat your home.

Even though we're much better off financially, we know how shaky the economy is right now. We've become pretty frugal so that we can keep paying down any debt we have and sock away money so that we don't find ourselves in financial ruin if anything ever happens. We rarely go out to eat (the crack about eating out at the place with an arcade in my last post was totally a joke) and we've worked really hard to not go buck wild on spending on things we would love to have, but don't really need to have right now. Impressive, considering Sephora is right near our house.

That is all very good and responsible things to do and I'm sure Dave Ramsey would be high-fiving us all the way to the bank, BUT it's difficult when you realize you have a whole lot of house to furnish and the moving company you used seems to have been quite selective when it came to deciding which items would actually make it across the country and into your house (Shout out to our moving company. Thanks for keeping some of our stuff but leaving us with two brand new fishing poles!)

Luckily, Craigslist out here is awesome. Craigslist in Maine was terrifying. I actually found a sight called "You Suck At Craigslist" and guess where some of the listing were from? Ben and I have been slowly furnishing the house with our finds. We've actually been slowly furnishing the garage, to be honest. Lennox isn't a big fan of watching me refinish furniture during the day.

The first thing we refinished actually wasn't from Craigslist. My in-laws brought a truck up here with three dressers in it after hearing I like to refinish stuff. They were various pieces they picked up at garage sales and not much to look at, but there's definitely potential.

If know what you're thinking. "What? Why would you change ANYTHING about this dresser? The broken handles, the rub-on floral motif, the Hello Kitty stamps that some five year-old whimsically applied......it's a REVELATION!!!"

I know. I'm just a monster like that.

We sanded that sucker down and spray painted it with reckless abandon. We filled in the holes from the old handles and added a new, inexpensive set from Target. I love it.

This table was a Craigslist score. I loved it the moment I saw it in the ad. When I went to pick it up, I knew I wouldn't be disappointed because my GPS led me to one of the most gorgeous houses, ever. Rich people have such great stuff for so cheap.

There's a butterfly leaf inside and it seat about eight people, or 12 dogs if you wanted to have a dinner party for dogs. You totally could. We just needed a small table to go in the kitchen area because we already have a mammoth table in the dining room, but this is perfect. It even matches the dresser! Furniture fate.

I'm going to throw another coat of paint on it because there is a chip on the table top. I could probably just throw a runner on there and call it a day, but there are a couple of scratches from when we wrangled it in the house from the car. FYI? Lock the table leafs before attempting to move the table, or one leaf could come apart and slam down on your toe, totally breaking it. Believe it.

So, pretty, custom, solid table for super cheap. And a broken toe for free!

Here's another project we're working on. It's going to be Grady's dresser. Another find from my in-laws. Right now it's all roughed up from sanding and I'm waiting for the wood filler to dry from the old knob-holes. Knob-holes.

Ben is a huge help with this stuff. He is a human power-sander. I'll have one drawer done while he's got the rest of the thing completely stripped. Then, he looks at me like I'm a jerk when I tell him we just need to rough up the paint, not take it all off. I forget to tell him stuff like that all of the time. He really loves it!

At this rate, I'm guessing our house will be furnished in about nine years. Hopefully, in four years we'll have enough furniture for it to stop echoing in here every time I talk. High-five, Mr. Ramsey!!

I Love.....

....living somewhere that has me thinking "I can't believe I live here" every, single, day. I'm not an Oprah worshipper by any means, but that woman nailed it when she said my town is the happiest place in America. (She has a huge estate about an hour or so from here. Oprah trivia. You're welcome. )

I wasn't feeling great today so Ben an I had a nice, lazy day watching football and napping around the house. Obviously around the house, duh. Like I would be watching football and taking naps at Trader Joe's. Grady was hanging out with Ferdinand and made contact with us twice throughout the day.

After a day of feeling gross and being in the house, we agreed to take a short drive downtown in an attempt to get some fresh air and not become complete recluses.

It was a beautiful, chilly night. I was so excited to see the shops starting to decorate for Christmas. We don't have a mall here, the citizens have shut that down for years and I'm so glad. All of the shops you would normally find in a mall have to lease buildings downtown, intermingled with all kinds of amazing local businesses. It makes for an incredible place to go shopping and many stores that I love and  will probably not open in Maine for another 20 years are down there. It makes me happy just to walk around and window shop.

Anyway, I'm on my way home. November is a month where a lot of bloggers try to post daily about things they are thankful for. I could never imagine being that put together where I remembered to bang out a post everyday but tonight as Ben drives us all home, I am incredibly appreciative of this special place that I get to call"home."

One of the little alleyways that connects two of the busier main streets. It's lined with several amazing shops and restaurants, including a fro-yo place that serves pumpkin frozen yogurt, an Italian restaurant that I want to try so badly I have actually considered leaving my children with a homeless person so I can have a kid-free date, and one of the best candy stores in the universe. And that"s just in an ALLEY. What does your local alleyway have in it? Probably hookers. Or Carrot Top.

*Edited, because blogging while on pain medication caused typos. Now, I can add that I'm grateful for the decision I made to reread this post, which had become quite R-rated.

Sleepover Shenanigans

Grady has made a bunch of friends in our neighborhood. It's really the ideal place to live for a kid. The best way to explain it is there is one large road that cars can drive on that goes in a circle. This is how you get to your house. In the middle of the circle is one great big gigantic park that's maintained by our homeowner association. It's massive and beautiful with gorgeous flowers and winding paths that you can walk forever. Believe me, I know this because you have to walk forever to get Lennox to knock off for a nap sometimes.

Anyway, since there isn't any traffic to worry about, the neighborhood kids are allowed to play together and and have free reign over acres and acres of land. I make Grady carry his cell phone so I can keep tabs on him (although his frequent butt-dials tend to get obnoxious) and sometimes it's the only form of communication I have with him all day, aside from him stopping in to ask me when he's supposed to eat food again.

I'm not saying an affluent neighborhood equals nice kids, but I will say that all of the kids Grady plays with are respectful and nice, where the kids he played with in Maine acted like they had just been shot up with espresso after undergoing a lobotomy. Mean thing to say? I don't especially care. I don't miss those kids at all.

Even though Grady has made great friends that I'm thrilled to know he's spending time with, the idea of sleepovers still stress me out. I'm leery of other people's kids. What if they don't like the food we serve? What is the proper way to tell someone else's kid to knock it off when they get all rowdy and act like a goon? What if they discover my large cache of automatic weapons? Can I even let them go home after that? The whole thing is very complicated.

SO, when my husband said to Grady last night "Hey, tomorrow you should have Ferdinand spend the night!" I almost looked into a divorce lawyer. I wasn't prepared for this and we're still experimenting with the right dose of Valium to get me through things like this. (I think the right dose is 'all of it' but no one ever listens to me) Then my husband said something about me sleeping in the next day while he handled Lennox and I immediately tabled the divorce idea. I think that horrific week of rollercoaster emotions is coming up anyway, and I assured myself that will be punishment enough.

So, here we are. Ferdinand is playing Xbox with Grady after eating out at a local restaurant that has mediocre food but also an arcade, so we'll probably be going there weekly from now on. Mr. Betty Crocker is out in the kitchen making a batch of his to-die-for cookies and wrangling the boys when they get a little too rowdy.

Me? I'm hiding in my bedroom. I love Ferdinand, he's a great kid, but I need to ease myself into this whole thing. I have a feeling it's going to be a common occurrence around here from now on. Plus someone has to snuggle with this adorable little baby that's snoring in my ear.

And the nice kid spending the night? He isn't named Ferdinand. He actually has a nice name, but I think it's weird to share stuff like that without some kind of release. I should totally type up a release for his parents to sign. How hilarious would that be?

Hey! In addition to making killer cookies, my husband hangs lights pretty nicely. This is the start of our fall-oween outdoor decor. We are the only ones in our neighborhood with outdoor lights, so I'm wondering if we're in some kind of violation of HOA rules. Meh.

Quick Recap

We moved from Maine to the central coast of California.

It was a miserable process that separated my husband and I for a few months while he started work in CA and I wrapped up loose ends in Maine. I hated it and gained a whole new level of respect for military spouses. All set with ever doing that again.

We found a house in an amazing neighborhood that I love.

Aidan is living in Maine during the school year and in California during the summer and holidays. Our family is devastated and Aidan is having immense difficulty with this. Please send positive vibes/thoughts/prayers or whatever you are into. We know this isn't permanent, but it's still very painful. And that's all I plan to say about any of that.

Grady loves California and I am so thankful he has made friends, become involved on Karate and started tutoring other kids at school. He was very unsure about our big move. Now, you would have to hogtie him and knock him out to get him back to Maine.

Lennox is getting big and naughty and cuter every day. The word 'no' is his absolute favorite and makes him giggle, which is adorable and messes up my angry mommy act.

We live really, really close to the ocean. There are some hills between our house and the ocean, which I sincerely appreciate. I have an issue with tsunamis, and those hills? Tsunami shields. I call them that, tsunami shields. I try to do it quietly though, in case my husband is listening. I don't need him trying to slip risperdol into my Diet Coke, thank you very much.



I think that's the major stuff. I didn't really know how to cover the major stuff, so it made it hard to start blogging again. Now it's just a slippery slope.

I just wrote this post at my husband's work. He works at a prison. I'd love to take a picture, but I'd probably be shot on site, and I really have to go grocery shopping later so a bullet wound would be very inconvenient. I'm sorry.