Last time we moved, Peter was just over 2 months old, and I didn’t think we’d be living in our apartment very long. It took me foreeeeeever to unpack. The lingering boxes just added to the uneasy feeling of “unsettled-ness” that we dealt with this past year while we lived in Ipswich, Massachusetts. In retrospect, I wish we had lived more fully there, investing more in the community and the aesthetics of our apartment. But we live and learn, right? Unpacking with a toddler this time has been frustrating, but it also makes me way more motivated to get it DONE. We’re certainly not done yet, but we’re two weeks in, and from where I sit, I can only see 3 unpacked boxes. That’s not too bad!
The mountain view from our apartment:
Our kitchen is small and lacks counter space. IKEA to the rescue!
And here are pictures of the aforementioned toddler. He’s so helpful.
“This cupboard needs baby-proofing, Mom!”
“Let’s open this box, Mom!”
“Mom! I found more space in the cabinet!”
He’s such a cheese-ball. I promise to post pictures when things look more presentable. We’re finally at the hanging-stuff-on-the-wall and distributing knick-knacks stage!
We’ve lived in our apartment for 2 weeks now. I only just started making calls to friends this past week- I thought I would be emotionally… fragile, I guess? I thought it would make me really sad. I think that’s part of why I haven’t updated the blog in a while, too. I keep waiting for it all to hit me- the fact that we moved across the country, leaving our friends and family behind. That we won’t have a “real” fall or snow this winter. That we no longer have loads of free babysitting! But we’re enjoying our apartment, our town, the gorgeous weather (the weather really is SO GLORIOUS!). And I think that maybe we’re just fine! It feels like home.
One of the perks of Patrick’s new job is that he has Fridays off. So last Friday, we officially completed our coast to coast trip by dipping our toes in the Pacific Ocean.
After a nice long morning nap for Peter, we quickly ate lunch before heading to Zuma Beach in Malibu. The water was surprisingly cold, but Peter LOVED it. The boy shrieked with glee every time a wave reached his chubby legs. Patrick also enjoyed introducing Peter to the beach. I can personally enjoy the beach. Personally, like, by myself. Or with adults. Beach with a baby? The verdict is still out. I mean, yes, it is delightful to watch Peter discovering things for the first time. But sand+water+baby=dirty, sandy baby. When I changed his diaper later (like, much later, after the swimsuit had been taken off and a new diaper had been put on already), an entire beach-ful of sand came pouring out. And you know, chubby babies have folds and crevices where things can hide. Things like sand! I’ll get over it. I must, because we live in California, and Peter likes the beach. The things we do for our children! I’m (mostly) kidding.