Gimme some of that Christmas sparkle

I realize that we are circling the holiday drain, and Christmas will be here in the blink of an eye. I write this after driving cross-town to a big box craft store for a last minute gift, and the strewn garland, picked-over candle aisles, and 60% off holiday tchotchkes made it seem like Christmas had already come and gone. But I guess people have done all their shopping and are now home dreaming of sugar plums. Or trying to jury rig their God-forsaken exterior lights from Ocean State Job Lot to illumitate for another week.

2011 has been a tough year. I'm not sure if I had idealistic visions of what life in CT would be, but it has been quite the adjustment. We are lucky in that we both have jobs in a pathetic economy, we bought a great house with tons of potential, and we are closer to most of my family and old friends. But it's probably no surprise that we don't have a robust social life, we miss the adrenaline highs and cameraderie that we loved at Crossfit, and we lack a sense of community that we found at the coffeeshops, bars, and buses of Seattle.

Part of it is that we're parents now, so we don't have the luxury of spending half a morning at a coffeeshop shooting the breeze. The other part is, we are totally in the 'burbs now, and it's much harder to find a good little dive with a decent vibe. When we were in Seattle I'd get lonely on a Sunday afternoon, dreaming about going to my parents house for roast chicken. Now we do that, and love it. I guess adjusting means making peace with the things that are no longer, or finding decent substitutes, or just enjoying the good things that we have now.

As for Crossfit, we've been going to our gym when we can (not enough). Sometimes I try to do a Crossfit workout there, but there's no partner cheering me on, and definitely no Metallica jamming in the background. Other times we do pull-ups and push-ups in our garage, which isn't too shabby. But, yeah, we really miss Crossfit.

And friends? I have my old friends (silver), but not the new friends (gold). It takes time. I have to periodically remind myself that I didn't have my great Seattle friends until I'd been there a couple years either.

In order to end on a more positive note, one person who has shined brightly here in CT is Nanny, Edie's daycare provider. Nancy (aka Nanny) has operated her home daycare for 30 years. It is the Four Seasons of daycares- the four kids each get their own crib, and she washes and irons the sheets each night. She takes weekly outings to the Little Gym and Playgroup. She usually gives the kids dinner leftovers; they eat pork roast, mashed potatoes, grilled green beans, and warm apple crisp for lunch. On Wednesday, Nanny's hosting a Christmas lunch for the tiny tots, complete with presents and a visit from S-A-N-T-A. Maybe I can sneak out of work on my lunchbreak. I'd just love to see Edie with that jolly guy this year...

Chim chim charroo

Good tidings noble blog readers! Since we last met I've successfully finished the Manchester Road Race and steadily decreased my workout regimen (not really by design). I still have a glimmer of hope that I'll do some push-ups and squats tonight, even if just for morale, but I'm hanging up my running shoes for the season.

Now it's time to paint bathrooms, braise carrots, and trim our house with holiday decorations. On Friday we went to a local nursery that has the feel of a secret garden. I could easily buy every other thing there, but I excersized restraint and did not buy $150 worth of sparkly decor and magnolia wreaths. Mom's hand-me-down Santa nesting dolls little will have to buck up for another year, even if the paint is chipping off their faces.

As for Christmas shopping, I have not really fallen in yet. I have lots of gift ideas, and I do love picking out the right thing for everyone, but Black Friday and the mall scene turn me off. They make me dehydrated and anxious, and I usually drive away feeling depressed about humanity (and my shopping budget).

I do, however, love Etsy. It's an online handmade marketplace, the complete antithesis of Target (which, let's be frank, also love). I've gotten everything from custom artwork to fabric potted plants. Another benefit to shopping Etsy is that there's a good chance your stuff is made in the USA, and you can even shop local to see if there are any goods in your 'hood. I've thought of starting my own shop on Etsy but for now I just enjoy browsing and picking up treasures here and there.

We are going to Seattle for Christmas in a couple weeks. Although I'm not psyched about flying with a 16-month old at the busiest time of year, it'll be nice to be back in burrito country. We do miss the coffee, our friends, Oliver's Twist, and family!

Set it and forget it

As the time between blog posts indicates, I've been pretty swamped with a new new job, my baby, my husband, 8-day power outages, family illness, and weekend getaways. I keep thinking things will slow down soon, but they don't! And my 5:50am alarm sure does go off early.

My new job is going well. The last few days have been very busy, which I like, because the day just flies by. I ate lunch at 2pm today. That never happens. My clock strikes breakfast, lunch, and dinner everyday. I look forward to each meal, and have always reacted to those who claim "I just forgot to eat!" with sincere skepticism. Today I didn't forget to eat, I was just trying to finish a few things before I took lunch.

One bummer is that I now work full-time. I'm the first to admit, I had a very lovely on-ramp back to work after I had Edie. Following my maternity leave, I worked three days a week for about 10 months. In between jobs and newly planted in CT, I had July off, then began working a four-day week. A full year after going back to work, I'm a full-timer again. I'm certainly not the first mom to do it, but I really did enjoy my days home with Edie.

I miss my girl but have been streamlining operations at home to make room for hanging out. For example, we hired a bi-weekly (not live-in, unfortunately) housekeeper on a friend's recommendation, and her rates are totally affordable. I've also been trying to order groceries online. The housekeeper is going well, but the food delivery has not totally taken hold. I have two gripes with Peapod: when something I order is out of stock, they don't provide an alternative. I ordered one type of eggs the other night, and they were back-ordered or something, so I got no eggs. They should just send a comprable carton of eggs. And, what's with the 89 plastic bags? Ever heard of Mother Earth?

Also on my streamlining to-do list: sign up for delivery dry cleaning. They pick up and drop off for no extra charge. Seems too easy.

To counter my new commute, which for the first time ever is in a car, I intend to download episodes of This American Life and KEXP's Music That Matters podcasts. KEXP is a wonderful, unique Seattle-based radio station that I really miss. CT radio makes me want to cry a little, or get satellite radio.

Lastly, Dave and I have started a new family work-out routine. We're training for the Manchester Road Race on Thanksgiving Day, and have been running with Edie after work. We bought some reflective gear and a flashing light for her jogging stroller. Although it's already dark at 5, we stick to the main roads and wear our shiny gear as we run around the 'hood together.

Leonard Cross-Country Team

I had spent three months preparing: running four times a week, sprinting around the local track once or twice, downloading Beyonce into my "get psyched" mix, buying new sneaks, and avoiding bending to low cabinets in an effort to preserve my knees.

I put my training to the test for 13.1 miles on Saturday, and I'm now the proud bearer of a Hartford Half Marathon medal. I came in at 1:58:19.
Not bad for a baby mama. (I have a friend who swears childbirth makes you stronger...maybe so. It definitely grooms your ability to use a 'mind over matter' approach).

As usual, on race day I was running late. Aunt Kitty and my parents were waiting out front while I tore through our house, gathering my bib, fleece, Gu Chomps (super-powered gummi food), and headphones. And cell phone. And chapstick.

We were all nervous en route to Hartford, where much of the city was preparing for the event (including a marathon, half marathon, 5K, and kids' 1K). For example, my dad wouldn't stop talking. Before my mom hit him over the head with a Clif Bar, we scored a parking spot and set off the find Kevin and Janice, my mom's brother who forbids us from calling him 'uncle', and his partner. They were planning to park their RV across from the Bushnell.

They welcomed us into the pre-race RV, where jitters were palpable. Kevin was running the full-marathon, and the rest of us had our own goals to achieve. No matter which race you're prepared for, there's gonna be a knot in your stomach. (Bigger knots for longer races? Not sure.) No one had the appetite for food or coffee, so we snapped a few pics and joined the throngs of well-toned athletes.

Mom, Dad, and Kitty went their way, and Kevin and I got in the queue together. I asked what his goal was. He said "Honestly, to finish. But if I had my drothers, under 4:30". When he asked mine, I said, "Under 2". We bumped fists, I turned up Rihanna, stretched, and prepared for the gun.

The beginning of a road race doesn't start with a mad dash. It's slow for the first half mile or so, as people spread out from underfoot. It's a tangled mess, and hard to get your tempo going. But it was a beautiful, sunny day, and my friend Laurie came up behind me to say hi within the first mile, and I got into a groove with my music. There were also onlookers cheering, holding signs, some playing music, and little kids held out their hands, vying for a high five. Personally, the audience is crucial to getting a good pace going and maintaining a steady pace. An enthusiastic crowd makes me want to run faster and taller.

After going through the West End of Hartford, the course went around our neighborhood for miles 6-8. I told Dave that I'd be at the water station at the end of our street between 8:45 and 9:15. Pretty broad window but I really wasn't sure. I kept looking at my watch as I got nearer, wanting to impress him by arriving on time. I also really needed to use the Port-o-Potty, and was honestly wondering if I could run to our house ever so quickly...

I was totally pumped to see Dave and Edie, and that made me run confidently. However the lower-intestine cramps that I'd tried to push out of my mind since the starting block weren't subsiding. I paid a visit to the Johnny-on-the-Spot at mile 7. No harm, no foul. I jumped right back into the race feeling about 2 lbs lighter.

Not long thereafter, I hit an incline. A woman in a competitive-type wheelchair pushed up next to me, and struggled, but she kept pushing uphill. I knew Dave and Edie would be down the street, so I powered through. Seeing the mile markers pass helped. They were coming up pretty easily. I saw Dave and Edie twice more. Edie rang a cowbell, and Dave was super supportive, so that gave me some fuel.

Things started to slow down at mile 11. The mile markers seemed to spread out, and instead of cursing the race I did some self congratulating: "Shawna, you're so awesome. Look at you, you're running this race and you're keeping a great time! You rule." That was my inner dialogue, which brought me to mile 12, then 13. The crowd of onlookers was thicker, I heard someone cheer my name, and then- voila- the finish line! My parents and Kitty met me outside the gate, surprised I was done already.

We recovered and went to watch for Kevin and the other marathoners. He finished with flying colors in under 4 hours. The race was an awesome event that brings out some big emotions. I wanted to cry watching every third person cross the finish line: they're overweight, they're old, they're holding hands, oh my goodness, isn't humanity something else? It really does tug at something deep, and I can't wait to do my next race.

I'll see you at Manchester...

a home of one's own

Today was a success because I went running after an unintended four-day haitus, I ate at least two vegetables, and Edie and I got some good playin' in after work.

Also, I'm finally blogging about our new home after four weeks of keeping my faithful readers in the dark.

The house was in "turnkey" condition when we bought it meaning we opened the door, moved our stuff in, and parked our butts on the couches that were left behind. The woman who sold us our house kept the place immaculate. Let's call her Maureen. Maureen was an avid gardener, and a very generous woman who sold us pretty much any furniture (indoor and out) that we wanted. Did I mention she loved gardening?

I am absolutely confident that I'll kill the garden in two months flat. Frankly I can't believe the greenery is still green. Maureen swore that it was a breeze to keep up, which I'm sure is true if I had 4 hours of weekend time to weed and prune rose bushes. My one hope is that Edie will chill in the Ergo while I bumble around, armed with shears and a big brown bag for collecting weeds (my hope is equally for me and for the baby).

So far we've painted our dining room. And by 'we' I mean my mom and dad, who have also re-wired our front porch light, dismantled and remantled our bedroom furniture to get it up the stairs, and hung our t.v. I've bought one new piece of art, which I'm anxiously awaiting, and could drop some serious moolah on home decor, no problem. But I'm honoring our budget so we're stuck with curtains of the Great Aunt variety, at least for a little while.

I am truly ecstatic that we finally own a home. I've been a renter for ten years, and although I've had a pretty good string of landlords, it's awesome to not have to ask if I can paint the walls, to have ample storage, and to not have a front door in the kitchen (I'm talkin' about you, Densmore Ave). I'll post more photos soon, but I hope this gives you a peep into the totally rad home we're calling our own.

Days Gone By

My Aunt Monique just passed away at age 43.

My dad came by yesterday to dismantle our box spring, which didn't fit up the stairs. We chatted a bit, while I was getting ready to meet my uncle for a run in the res. My dad called me out to the garage, and he was obviously upset. He said, "My sister died." I immediately guessed Monique, and good thing, because my dad has six sisters, and that wouldn't be a fun game.

(she's second to left)

Monique was the youngest of the nine Michaud children. I remember her as a Conard High School cheerleader and camp counselor at Beachland Park. She had her own powder blue Honda Civic, a water bed, made lanyards, and had friends with '80s names like Susie and Lynn. Needless to say, I thought she was the coolest when I was in elementary school. I even had a short pleated wool skirt, which I considered my homage to Aunt Monique. (Also, my middle name is Monique, after her).

(she's the blonde on the left)

Upon graduating, Monique couldn't get out of the Connecticut fast enough, and enrolled at University of Central Florida. My parents took me and Ashley to Orlando when I was in third grade, and we crashed with Monique in her sunny Florida apartment. We all went to Disneyland and Sea World, and I wore my Thriller shirt for approximately four days straight. Monique had Alphabets cereal, which she kept on top of her fridge, and that was pretty enlightening when all I knew was Kix. Did I mention she had a sweet tooth? She had an unabashed big appetite for junk food.

During my senior year at Conard, my mom took me and Ashley to Florida again. By that time, Monique had graduated and was making big bucks, thanks to the late-90s real estate boom. She had a big home in a subdivision with a built-in pool. She was married to a nice guy and had a baby daughter, and a sharpei named Kong. She drove a Mustang convertible, had a hearty laugh, a big butt, and big blonde bangs. She was living the life, in that central Florida kind of way.

(still on the left, cheering on the Cheiftan hockey team)

I last saw Monique with her two kids at Ashley's wedding, two years ago. Monique was still fun loving, but she had packed on a lot of weight. Her glory days as a hot real estate agent were gone, and she had begun selling burial plots for a living. She was divorced, and remarried, and didn't have much to her name. Still, she met Dave and saw me pregnant, and it was nice to see her.

See died suddenly on Monday of a heart attack, after being hospitalized briefly a few months ago for an unknown heart condition, and a diabetes diagnosis. I feel bad for her kids the most. And it is strange that one of the nine Michaud kids is gone.

I prefer to think of her in her glory days, as the cute blonde cheerleader that she was. And she was the apple of Pepere's eye.

Cloudy with a Chance of Hype

There was a lot of hype the last few days about Hurricane Irene, and I must say, I'm a bit dissapointed. Multiple news outlets advised stocking up on water for three to four days, have

batteries locked and loaded, and avoid going outside at all costs. My mom and I went to the grocery store on Thursday to gather provisions, and the place was picked clean of water, flashlights, and Cheerios.

Luckily they still had cheddar cheese, Sierra Nevada, and Pantene shampoo, all key for survival. I even found a secret stash of bottled water in the baby aisle. Yes, Gerber markets this stuff to hyper-sensitive parents who want triple-distilled water for their young. People asked in hushed tones, "Where'd you get that water?!" I heard from friends that yesterday was even worse, that stores were picked over like Armageddon was nigh.

The news....I hate the news. It does nothing to improve the quality of my day. On one newscast, the reporter was on the beach standing in the water. He was about three feet from the dry shore. Really, must you stand in the water? I guess he was trying to prove that he truly was getting wet. On another newscast, the reporter beefed up the drama by stating that you could actually see the whitecaps in the Long Island Sound. I squinted and tried really hard, but couldn't make out more than some choppy water. The news is a joke.

Dave was skeptical the whole time. He did not buy the hype.

The winds were howling last night and the rain came down hard at times, but this storm was supposed to bring us to our knees. I was playing out scenarios of leaping from bed to save Edie if a branch came flying threw the window, and playing cards in the basement by candlelight. We lost power for about a minute at 6am, and I was almost disappointed that the lights were ablaze all day. I mean, I love hot coffee and an Egg McChaud just as much as the next guy, but a storm can be fun when you have to adapt without everyday luxuries. Granted, major weather can cause serious damage but this one just lost its luster. I know we're lucky, we were just bracing for a bit more adventure.

One year

Happy (belated) birthday to our beautiful little girl, Edie Harper! They say it goes fast, and it does. The long, brutal nights and her falling asleep on our chests seem long ago. Now she's putting pasta on a spoon and cruising around in her beloved shoes (with assistance). What's in store for next week?

Chicken Soup for The Mattress

I was just waiting for this to happen. While things have been going pretty well with our POD, every time we request it be removed from its warehouse home (via forklift) feels like a roll of the dice. Keeping our somewhat organized chaos in order seems less and less realistic as we remove and replace this huge box from its towering POD stack.

You've heard horror stories of storage units: mice establish new colonies in your mattress, valuable files succomb to stinky mildew, your wardrobe becomes moth heaven. People's stories never seem to end well. Today Dave visited our POD with the hopes (ahem, very high hopes) of getting his classroom materials out. The stuff was packed in a box, in a wardrobe behind a lot of other big items. He didn't get his materials but he DID find an exploded box of chicken stock (thanks to the humitidy), that blew up on top of a bookshelf and attracted hordes of gnats.

Although it stinks (literally), it could be worse. Dave got some fly strips to catch the buggers but I called PODs immediately and asked for them to deliver it ASAP. They said "How about tomorrow?" and I said "Sure!" Where will we put all of our stuff? Guess we'll just push my parents basement around a bit. There really isn't room, but leaving our stuff in the bug-infested chicken soup container will be a death sentence.

I've been thinking of the tangible things I miss. It'll be nice to have them back when the POD arrives.

1. My contacts. I somehow ripped my monthly contact one week into their use, and have been running with my glasses, which fog up and slip down when I get sweaty. Also hard to water-ski with blurry vision. And I've been wearing my sunglasses over my glasses like a huge nerd.

2. My radio. This goes beyond just having music in the house. I miss our music set-up, and I miss Seattle radio station KEXP. I commute 25 minutes each way to work, and the state of local radio is getting me down. I'm seriously thinking about paying for Sirius. But on the positive side I'm caught up on the news thanks to NPR.

3. My straw hat. Critical summer accessory.

4. Our bed. A bed is pretty personal, and we like ours.

5. My recipes. I have a killer Mexican corn-on-the-cob recipe that I don't feel like digging around for online. Our summer has sadly lacked Mexi-corn.

6. My USB cord, so my blog posts aren't so spartan. Sorry.

"You're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat"

What does a girl have to do to watch Jaws around here?

We've been swimming a lot- in lakes, pools, kiddie pools, the ocean, and Long Island Sound (which is the ocean, if you want to get technical). And I really want to watch Jaws, although that might be a poorly-timed idea, since I plan to continue our ocean adventures. Edie was born during Shark Week last year, so that might explain my deep-rooted desire to see the sneaky/smart fish on film.

I tried to get a copy from the library, but they were out, and Blockbuster isn't anymore, and I doubt Red Box has a "Classic Horror" section. I'm sure it's on TBS or something similar, maybe even On-Demand. There never seems to be time to dedicate two hours to a movie anyway...

...'Cause I'm busy training for a half-marathon! I've quickly accepted the fact that I'm not going to Crossfit for a while. The one that people recommend is inconvenient and out of our budget right now. I've been a runner, on and off, for about 10 years. My sister introduced me while I was in college, dividing my summer between Boston and CT, because all you need is a pair of sneakers. It's cheap and easy, so I always pick it up during times of transition or economic belt-tightening.

This will be my third half-marathon, and I use an online tool to calculate how often and how long I have to run. Sometimes I bring Edie in her baby jogger. She likes the free ride (especially with a teething biscuit in hand). My friend Kelly and I are planning to do our long runs together on Saturdays, and another friend might join me during a weekday morning workout. Tomorrow my mom will run with me. I don't listen to music, because my headphones often fall out, which is frustrating. It disrupts the momentum. Running can be therapuetic and is giving me a chance to explore our town and local wildlife.

The race I'm training for is the Hartford Half-Marathon, which will be in mid October. It's a beautiful time in New England, which seems so far away while, as we're whiddling away our weekend days at the beach.

Get ready to be excited

I started my job today and frankly, I wonder how I'll squeeze in four full days of work each week. What with weekend trips to NYC, searching high and low for a day care, throwing Ashley a baby shower, planning a Triple Baby Birthday party for Edie, Camden and cousin Lexie, hanging with Edie, and buying a house, it's a wonder I have time to eat a snack.

I do operate well when going full throttle, but the last couple weeks have been a bit nutty. In early July, Dave and I stumbled upon an open house and decided to go in, just to get the ball rolling on the house hunt. I was pushing for buying a place whereas Dave was open to renting again, since we knew that buying could take a while. However, I'm plain sick of moving. I'm sick of packing, unpacking, getting rid of stuff, buying more stuff, dusting, undusting, and paying astronomical shipping fees.

The open house was nothing great

but it did unlock a bit of excitement, so I contacted a referred agent and provided our requirements (close to our walkable downtown, on a side or "local" street, on the north side of town, and in a good school district). Also I have a ton of other requirements that I hold close to my heart (i.e. far away from a soul-less subdivision, with trees in the yard, and no neighbors with cars jacked up on cinder blocks for a three-mile radius. Call me picky.)

We saw six homes, and fell in love with the second house our agent showed us. It's been very well maintained, has cute details like arched doorways, with ample storage space, good sized rooms, and a gorgeous (intimidating) yard. More importantly, it doesn't need a lick of work. (Have you seen me or Dave with a drill? It's not pretty.) Honestly, we both got a good feeling, and it fit within our requirements. We had my parents come take a look the next night. My Dad is a contractor and my mom is a talented home-renovator, so we value their opinions. They each gave a thumbs up, and we moved forward with the offer. Since then, we've been collecting, transferring, signing, and copying a ton of paperwork. Hopefully it all pans out, and we can unload the POD late August! We'll wait with baited breath until the closing.

It's pretty crazy that we found a great home so quickly, but life has been "coming up Kitzman",

as Ashley put it. You know that quote, "The harder I work the luckier I get"? We are really lucky, but we are also hard workers. When I tell folks that I got a job, sometimes they say "Wow, you got a job a week after you moved here?!" Yeah, but I hustled my buns off for the past 8 months in Seattle, updating my web site, contacting strangers to do informational interviews, creating marketing materials, and going to many interviews that didn't result in a job offer.

Now that we've (almost) nailed down a home and a job, I've been researching and visiting daycares that make geographic and financial sense. The problem here is not so much lack of supply. It's that the affordable daycares are run by fluffy cat-loving eccentrics and the lovely daycares that meet our standards (not depressing with compentent caregivers and a no-nut policy) are pretty spendy. As with everything in life, you get what you pay for.

Amidst figuring out the logistics of our lives, I took a quick trip down to NYC to hang with my sister in Brooklyn. We got our nails done, walked the High Line, shopped, walked a ton, she took me out to dinner, we saw a movie, ate a bagel, and I slept till the late hour of 8:30am. So much sister fun!

Connecti-kitzmans: Part 2

We still don't have our USB to download photos; it's in the POD, along with the rest of the physical contents of our lives. Edie is over the whisks

and bowls I've given her to play with. She looks at me like, "Sooo when do my toys arrive again?" and then I launch into yet another made-up version of Little Liza Jane.

Dave arrived after his long, enjoyable journey, and there are dead bugs covering our car with Idahoan origins. Yep, the Subaru made it. Dang right, as we just spent an arm and a leg rebuilding the engine.

Connecticut is hot and humid, which is nice, because there's also air conditioning and pools and ice water. I now have a reason to wear sunscreen and skirts after our somewhat-depressing Seattle spring. The downside is that working out is limited to early morning or evening when it cools off a bit. This morning I missed my window and had to sacrifice a perfectly good workout day. Or maybe that's just what I told myself. In related news, I bought a running stroller off of my buddy Craigslist, which has opened up lots more opportunities to work out with the girl.

My parents have a bird feeder in their front yard and it attracts species from far and wide. The bird feeder action reminds me of a scene fromDisney's Snow White: winged friends, chipmunks, and squirrels all coming together. The feeder is full in the morning and entirely empty by evening. It's cool to watch the wildlife; I wish I knew more about which types of birds they are.

It still feels like we're on vacation, as we're just getting around to unpacking our bags and settling in. We have gone without most of our possessions but I miss our music and Edie's books and our bed. My parents have been super helpful and generous, letting us use their car and other essentials as needed.

Tomorrow we're hitting up Misquamicut, and we'll show Dave the best of New England beaches. It's good to be home.

Connecti-kitzmans: Part 1

[Editor's note: I wrote this July 1. I was holding off on publishing
until I could upload more photos but our USB is in the POD, so enjoy this text heavy edition of Chez Moni!]

Whew.

Edie, my mom, and I are now firmly planted in Connecticut after a long four days of working round the clock moving the contents of our house into the POD/car/welcoming arms of Goodwill. Moving is so much dang work. Even though I've been faithfully packing for 6 weeks, there was so much stuff we didn't pack till the 11th hour (crib, silverware, Dave's vast and never-used CD collection). My mom was a task master: managing the girl, cleaning out our cupboards, making breakfast with the contents of said cupboards, and helping us pack our home.

Dave, some generous friends, and I did a lot of the heavy lifting. We were initially concerned that our stuff wouldn't fit in the POD, but once that big white box was planted in our driveway via crazy hydraulic lift, we relaxed. The first half of POD-packing went well: most of our big furniture is squared off, making for a manageable furniture puzzle. These items fit into their appropriate slots. But the proverbial wheels came off when packing the second half of the POD, as we loaded up Dave's beloved Barcalounger, floor lamps, vacuums, and kitchen chairs, which have very few right angles and tons of appendages just waiting to cause damage in a box freewheelin' down the highway. By the end, Dave and I were literally throwing stuff in the POD, as the driver showed up to take it away. We had to bid farewell to some baby gear and houseplants. Oh well.

Edie, my mom and I flew to CT, and Dave is driving in the Subaru with brother-in-law Jeff. I would love to drive cross country, it's been on my bucket list for a while, but not with an 11-month old. She's a great gal but traveling is not her strong suit. Driving cross-town is not exactly a day at the beach, and driving 3,000 miles with her would be downright

excruciating. The flight was okay, but what made it even better was the empty seat on the second leg of our journey. She entertained herself and slept in her car seat, I enjoyed some New York magazine, and we all arrived a bit happier.

So here we are, in West Hartford. The birds are plentiful, the radio is ho-hum, and the weather is beautiful. We're getting used to our new lives and looking forward to reuniting with Dave!

West Coast Family

Dave and I just wrapped up a decent dinner that had hints of white trash. Turkey meatball subs on white hot dog buns, with a Caesar salad-in-a-bag, and canned peas. It reminds me of when I was a young girl and I went to my best friend's house the night her mom served Steak-Umms for

dinner. I hadn't been privy to this glorious processed meat, and I ran home and tried to persuade my mom to buy summ. She looked at me like, "Really, Shawna, Steak-Umms? I made cream-puff swans for my last dinner party." I must accredit the salad-in-a-bag to Dave. He likes it, and went to the store for me, so I averted my eyes to the epic ingredients list, and tossed the listless leaves with the mini-bag of croutons. The canned peas are part of my Let's Clean Out the Cupboards initiative. Dave asserted it wasn't white trashy enough, as he was enjoying a glass of white wine.

We haven't been eating too well these past few weeks. There's just a lot going on, and at the end of the day I'm not really inspired to prepare an elaborate dish. If there's something green and some protein on the plate, I'm satisfied. Tuesday night we grilled sausages, made a broccoli salad, and ate dinner off our laps on the back steps.

Dave and I have been playing the game What I Won't Miss over dinner. We randomly list things

we won't miss about Seattle. For example, I won't miss our upstairs neighbors who host drunken board game parties directly above our bed! On Monday nights! C-ya! Dave won't miss the lackluster summer. 60 degrees and overcast in mid-June? C-ya! But sometimes our conversation veers to what we will miss: life-affirming Americanos, Edie's caregivers at daycare, our buddies, taco trucks, Crossfit, and most of all, the Kitzmans.

Moving cross-country is stressful for both of us, but we are going towards my people. The Kitzmans have been nothing but accepting and giving since the moment I met them. Dave has a pretty small family, composed of his mom, sister, dad, two nephews, and some cousins throughout the Puget Sound. His mom (hi Cookie!) has bought me and his sister (hi Becky!) to season tickets at the 5th Avenue Theater for the past couple of years. After Cookie treats us to a nice dinner out (no Steak-Umms in sight), we check out musicals including In the Heights and The Drowsy Chaperone, two of my faves. She also watches Edie every week, one day if not more, when I'm at work. She takes Edie for walks, to her favorite yarn and sock stores, and even sends me photo-documentation during the day.

Whenever Dave's dad accompanies her (hi Art!), he drives me to the office. He must consider King County Metro a rough-and-tumble operation. Art and I chat about random things on our weekly commute, such as his experience in the Navy, or his relationship with his sister Delores growing up, but I have yet to learn why he doesn't swim. I've grown to look forward to our one-on-one, 12-minute conversations.

Becky is my West Coast sister. She loves being Aunt Becky (which she pronounces "Ant"), and brings little outfits for Edie when she babysits. Aunt Becky spent a whole weekend with Edie a couple weeks ago, and the girls wore matching outfits to a family brunch. Pretty cute.

So the bad news is we will really miss the Kitzmans. But the good news is we'll have strong family ties to Seattle, forever. And, Skype. And the internet and airplanes.

Some like it ice cold

It strikes me as strange when Seattlites complain about the rain. I mean, you choose to live here, right? And this region is rather damp, no? In general, I just zip up my waterproof jacket and shoulder the weather. It doesn't always rain here, but there are many grey days, and these days have a certain chill. By early June, we Seattleites shuffle along feeling sorry for our soggy selves while our New England, Sun Belt, Rust Belt, and Corn Belt brethren bask in the early joys of summer. Okay so the midwest had horrific tornadoes rip through a few weeks ago. I'm sure the storms ripped the clouds out of the sky to expose some sun.

In Seattle's defense, on sunny summer days it stays light ridiculously long. I'm talking 5:30 a.m. and the sun is shining with such vigor that I jump out of bed fearing I missed the bus. Conversely, two hours after dinner's cleaned up, the sun is burning so brightly I wonder if I should go for a run or maybe learn how to garden. Then I see that it's 9:30pm, and I look down at my slippers and think better of it.

The other day I took Edie to the baby clothes store and picked up some sweet summer duds on sale. Prior to our outting, she had one pair of shorts that were gathering dust. How will she deal with the heat and humidity? What about me and Dave? I'm thinking lots of lemonade, some lakeside swimming, and minimal A/C. We'll see if I'm so fond of the New Enland summer in a few weeks.

On a parting note, summer in Seattle is one of the Northwest's best kept secrets. It starts the week after 4th of July. Long, hot, dry days with painfully gorgeous sunsets. Why are we moving the end of June again?

The Hunt

Let me be the first to virtually congratulate my husband on getting a job!

He was so confident going in to his three interviews, and I thought, "More power to you...but the job market ain't so hot, honey. Work your magic." And apparently he did, because his first interview was a home run.

This means I can hire a nanny while I make use of my personal Nordstrom stylist and full time eyebrow waxer. Call off the hounds! My job hunt is canceled.

Except that's not true at all. I'm still in hot pursuit of planning or design work, but the pressure has lessened now that Dave is gainfully employed. This was my ideal scenario all along: Dave secures a job, so I can research where we'll live, where I'll work, where Edie will go to day care, and how we'll all get there. Dave's job in north-central Connecticut narrows my scope, which is a good thing. Rather than throwing a dart along half the Eastern seaboard, I can focus efforts in the greater Hartford area.

Like many job hunts, mine is filled with fits and starts. Promising leads often fizzle and die, but I just channel the girl from True Grit, who didn't take no for an answer. Ever. She's my job hunt prototype. Not that I can't take a hint, but I definitely work hard to get my name out there. And when one person closes a door in my face, I go knock on another door.

Today I started packing my personal belongings at work. My colleague stopped by my desk, picked up a proposal cover from my drafting table, and said, "You made this?" Me: "Yep" Him: "We're really gonna miss you". It was a really nice moment.

Again, hats off to Dave. I'm so proud.

I can say that now

Dave and I were planning on leaving Seattle after Fourth of July weekend. Dave wanted a bit of time after his school year ended to pack/get rid of our stuff, say our goodbyes, and so on. We were operating under the assumption that we could leave our apartment whenever, but our landlord and Dave had a little chat over the weekend, and it turns out they'd prefer a clean break at the end of a month, any month. So we picked the end of June. Which mean- amazingly- we have six weeks to go.

Although I'm excited about being closer to my New England family and friends, we'd both be more stoked if either of us had jobs. Just one job would help justify our bold leap from good jobs to no jobs (in 2011 mind you), from our own place to crashing at my parents' house (Thanks Mom and Dad! We like Crest toothpaste. Heh heh).

We're optimistic that one of us will cinch a job, but if memory serves, being unemployed sucks. I think it mostly gets under your skin because you don't know how long you'll have to scrape away at your meager budget. Given a defined time frame, unemployment would be a lot more tolerable. The same phsychological effect happens on people waiting for a bus- when they know how long they'll be waiting, it doesn't seem so bad.

My last day of work will be exactly my 5 year anniversary of my arrival in Seattle. Since then, I met Dave, got married, had a baby, and became an urban planner. Oh, and I also lived in five different apartments, got my identity stolen, kept a couple plants alive, ran a half marathon, and met some awesome friends. Despite my family's tepid support for my 2006 move, and some warnings that it was hard to make friends in the Northwest, I really hit my stride here. I might even say Seattle was the best strategic decision I ever made.

I thought I'd be happier at the prospect of moving home. I am happy, there are just so many unknowns that it's hard to visualize a Connecticut life, and while my parents, their siblings, and a handful of my friends are local, most of my generation has spread to Boston, NYC, Providence, and beyond. Of course, our Connecticut life will shape up over time, just like anything. What does get me excited is the idea of water skiing a lot this summer. And the hot, hot heat of New England in July. We've got a short, lovely summer here but honestly I will not miss the grey skies, 40 degree-Aprils, and months of drizzle. I can say that now, because we're on our way out!