Wednesday, March 10, 2010

What we will be leaving...

The second-hardest part of leaving the apartment will be giving up the views. The lakefront property, the dock, the woods.

But, we do know it is all worth it as we will be getting something much better: our own place. A place where we don't have neighbors above (or below) us, where we won't have to keep tabs on whether their guests are coming this weekend so we know where to park. Where we can stay up until 4 a.m. playing poker with friends without wondering if we are being too loud or if our conservative landlords will be offended by the presence of alcohol.

It will be so great for us.

But, I won't lie, it's going to be emotional. Leaving our first real "home" will be hard. Yes, after we got married, we lived in an apartment in the Twin Cities. But that was more of a place to sleep than a home. We didn't live there. Between poker nights in a Brooklyn Center garage and weekend camping trips to, well, everywhere, the apartment was just a place to store our stuff.

This apartment, this place, has been our home. More importantly, this has been Lola's only home. The place where she was conceived; where we brought her from the hospital; where she smiled, laughed, crawled and walked all for the first time; where we became a real family.

But that's enough on that. I'm getting all mushy. Just know this: We're excited to move. But it's not going to be completely easy to leave, either.

(The absolute hardest part of leaving will be painting over Lola's room. But I'm not ready to even think about that yet...)


Back to Lola...

In the past week, she's returned to her normal, healthy self. Which means she's running all over and leaving multiple messes in her wake. Last night was a blur of blocks, babies and balls. It's not so much that she's playing with them as much as throwing, rolling and dancing them all over the house.

She's just too cute for words.

She's also (and this is for my "little" brother), our little "MJ," as in Michael Jordan. Any time she is concentrating on anything, Lola sticks her tongue out. Every time.

As we've prepared to pack, I got smart at work (thanks to my editor) and instead of grabbing old newspapers, I got a roll of leftover, blank newsprint. It makes it easier to pack - and I don't get black, ink-smudged fingers.

Lola, though, has seen it as the perfect paper for coloring. More than once this week, she has run over, grabs the (very heavy) roll, knocks it to the ground and points to her washable markers, exclaiming, "Culla!" Then, if I don't immediately jump at her demands, she makes sure I really understand, "Color, Mama!"

And then the real messes begin...

... which are almost always followed by bath time.

So that's pretty much our life right now: Lola and packing.
- Bethany :)

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