Well paint me pink and call me Susie! My husband is drinking beer and watching football. Apparently all that it took for him to find his inner “Curran” was Bret Farve donning a Vikings jersey. Who knew?
After a gluten-free beer and several pointless Facebook quizzes, I think I am ready to begin processing. Tiger started his new job today, and in my own way, I suppose I did, too. Stay-at-home momming it in NYC is going to be a very different animal than SAHMing in NC, or even MN 'burbs, for that matter.
We are currently in a furnished apartment until we find a closet, I mean, apartment, of our very own.
The first order of business today was to go grocery shopping and get as much as I could fit into the stroller--or had cash for--whichever came first. The whole thing from start to finish (door to door) was about an hour-and-a-half. Not too bad considering most of that was just getting there and back. I went to Whole Foods as I knew they would have some of the specialty items I would need and—let's be honest—I have had enough new lately that I wanted some familiarity. In my own defense NYC Whole Foods and Cary Whole Foods are different experiences, anyway.
After lunch and a nap, L and I hopped on the subway to meet our apartment broker. Things can only go up from here, kids. After viewing three apartments (all of which would make my mother cry) and two hours (additional to this morning) of walking, along with thoughts along the lines of “Holy Hannah, we are living in New York City!” I was having a hard time keeping things together.
When we got back to our temporary apartment (which is soooo much nicer than the ones I had just visited, it hurts to think about it), I tried to implement some culinary-therapy by making DH (Darling Husband)'s favorite, French toast. I set the smoke detector off. Twice. L was hysterical. The poor kid was so overwhelmed and overstimulated (as was I), and had spent the whole day in a stroller, not interacting with me or others, the smoke detector was just too much to handle. By the time DH came home L and I were both on the couch, catatonic, watching Finding Nemo.
Dinner was nice, and having DH back in our midst brought some sense of equilibrium. But, man, did I want a beer! And, as I cannot just have just any beer (gluten!), we made another trek to Whole Foods, this time bringing our Equilibrium along with us, which helped, at least a little. L, who needed a chocolate milk while we were at Whole Foods, somehow sprayed or flung or squirted the pants of the man whom we were behind in the check-out line. I realized just as he walked away. Sorry, guy! That seemed to be the perfect top off to the day. Fortunately things began to look up...
On the way home we stopped to see if one of our NYC acquaintances (an employee from the Ace Hotel whom we hit it off with when we were here for the interview) was working. She was! And she was so pleased to see us! Perhaps we will have a play-date soon.
So! that was a faithful account of my second day as a New Yorker. Tomorrow looks to be a lovely day. I hope Little L won't rebel as I drag her on more apartment visits!
Monday, August 31, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Good bye, one thing at at time...
We've said good-bye to the dogs. Good bye-to the car, the amp, some friends, and tonight our church family.
The dogs were easier to say good-bye to than I thought they would be, but only because we went and saw them with their new family--seeing them so happy and so loved made things much, much easier. In fact, Bailey looked like a whole different dog--her hair (yes, she has hair rather than fur) went from charcoal to black in two weeks! I think Bailey and Elisa were afraid we were going to take them back with us!
I know they are just dogs, but they were special to me in the way only pre-kid dogs are (in a sane, I-don't-dress-them-up kind of way). Their new forever family is, quite literally, an answer to prayer.
The Jetta was hard to get rid of, too. What is it with Americans and their cars? I loved it in that this-is-my-first-not-crappy-car kind of way. The amp went to a guy who will use it to teach kids, so that is cool. Everything else seems to be getting a good home, too, which is comforting.
Leaving people one cares about is never fun or comforting, but it is so nice to have people who make it hard to leave, if that makes sense.
The dogs were easier to say good-bye to than I thought they would be, but only because we went and saw them with their new family--seeing them so happy and so loved made things much, much easier. In fact, Bailey looked like a whole different dog--her hair (yes, she has hair rather than fur) went from charcoal to black in two weeks! I think Bailey and Elisa were afraid we were going to take them back with us!
I know they are just dogs, but they were special to me in the way only pre-kid dogs are (in a sane, I-don't-dress-them-up kind of way). Their new forever family is, quite literally, an answer to prayer.
The Jetta was hard to get rid of, too. What is it with Americans and their cars? I loved it in that this-is-my-first-not-crappy-car kind of way. The amp went to a guy who will use it to teach kids, so that is cool. Everything else seems to be getting a good home, too, which is comforting.
Leaving people one cares about is never fun or comforting, but it is so nice to have people who make it hard to leave, if that makes sense.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Now it's Official
Tiger has bought our plane tickets and Lily and I are leaving with him on the 30th, 8 a.m.
This makes me want to eat a lot of ice cream and take a nap. Wake me up when we're in Manhattan.
The dogs are gone, which is both weird, sad, and a relief. The first thing that Lily did when we got home from our 3-week trip to Minnesota (around dinner time) was to run over to her little table and chair in the breakfast nook, her body language saying, Whew! This is mine--just my size. Then she called out cheerily, "Bailey, Elisa, where are you?" This both warmed and broke my heart. I told her, "They're not here, honey." Her guess as to their whereabouts was the grocery store. I chuckled and left it at that.
The real job now is to decide what to get rid of, what to sell, what to give away, what to (hopefully, if they agree) ship to mom and dad's, and what to leave for the movers to pack up and send to a storage unit in New Jersey until we find an apartment. My stomach just leapt up into my throat at that sentence. OhGodohGodohGod. We're doing it; we're leaving: we're moving.
The realtor came today and made me realize just how shabby our house is; how ugly and terrible our furniture is; how little I relish deep-cleaning or yard-work, and how cash-poor we are for things like new carpeting, yard guys, and the simple and general face-lift things this place needs like a coat of paint. I have a feeling that this place will sell, though. I hope I am right.
I know it is immature and tacky, but I don't want most of the neighbors to find out until we are gone and the For Sale sign is up. I hate good-byes, especially among the people whom I don't actually know or remember their names.
I spent most of the day with Amber and the kids. My heart sank to realize that they will be leaving for the beach on Sunday and will get back the day we leave. We have a dinner planned for Friday night. This will be our good-bye. I suppose it is best to get all the good-byes knocked-out one-by-one.
Amber told her four-year-old daughter, Lily's self-proclaimed Best Friend, that we were moving away and she wouldn't be able to play with Lily anymore. She asked her daughter if this made her sad. Her daughter said that it did make her sad, but maybe another family would move in who had children she could be friends with. I am glad of this. I will pray for that, just for her.
This makes me want to eat a lot of ice cream and take a nap. Wake me up when we're in Manhattan.
The dogs are gone, which is both weird, sad, and a relief. The first thing that Lily did when we got home from our 3-week trip to Minnesota (around dinner time) was to run over to her little table and chair in the breakfast nook, her body language saying, Whew! This is mine--just my size. Then she called out cheerily, "Bailey, Elisa, where are you?" This both warmed and broke my heart. I told her, "They're not here, honey." Her guess as to their whereabouts was the grocery store. I chuckled and left it at that.
The real job now is to decide what to get rid of, what to sell, what to give away, what to (hopefully, if they agree) ship to mom and dad's, and what to leave for the movers to pack up and send to a storage unit in New Jersey until we find an apartment. My stomach just leapt up into my throat at that sentence. OhGodohGodohGod. We're doing it; we're leaving: we're moving.
The realtor came today and made me realize just how shabby our house is; how ugly and terrible our furniture is; how little I relish deep-cleaning or yard-work, and how cash-poor we are for things like new carpeting, yard guys, and the simple and general face-lift things this place needs like a coat of paint. I have a feeling that this place will sell, though. I hope I am right.
I know it is immature and tacky, but I don't want most of the neighbors to find out until we are gone and the For Sale sign is up. I hate good-byes, especially among the people whom I don't actually know or remember their names.
I spent most of the day with Amber and the kids. My heart sank to realize that they will be leaving for the beach on Sunday and will get back the day we leave. We have a dinner planned for Friday night. This will be our good-bye. I suppose it is best to get all the good-byes knocked-out one-by-one.
Amber told her four-year-old daughter, Lily's self-proclaimed Best Friend, that we were moving away and she wouldn't be able to play with Lily anymore. She asked her daughter if this made her sad. Her daughter said that it did make her sad, but maybe another family would move in who had children she could be friends with. I am glad of this. I will pray for that, just for her.
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