This town ain't never been my home

So it's decided. We are definitely moving to Richmond, Virginia. We are driving down again the weekend of the 8th and 9th to look at rental houses and preschools, and we will most likely be moving the second week of December. (Awww, yeah....moving during the holidays. Sweet!)

I am sad about leaving Princeton. The town itself has been a really good fit for us - if KB's job had been more his cup of tea, I have no doubt that we'd have stayed here for good. I dropped off Nolan at his English school this morning, and as I was driving home admiring all the fall leaves, I noticed the entire block of the street I was on had Obama signs in their front yards. Every single home. And I smiled. (I would have taken a picture, but as New Jersey just passed legislation allowing cops to ticket you for driving while talking on the phone, I'm pretty sure driving while trying to take a cell-phone picture is, you know, bad.) Not that I'm into conformity or group-think kinda politics, but it was sure nice to see.

But I think Richmond is going to be good as well. It's a good-sized city, it's pretty cosmopolitan, lots of cultural stuff. It is The South, though. It's not the deep south, not by any means, but it is most definitely The South. This is the region of our country that I know the least about and have the least experience with, so this should be interesting. I've been calling folks in the 804 trying to find us some rental houses to check out, and for awhile there no one I talked to really sounded like they were from the south (or sounded like my stereotypical idea of what people from the south talk like - think Sally Field in Steel Magnolias) until I got one guy named Birch who said, "Yes, ma'am" after every sentence out of his mouth. I got off the phone and said, "Now that's what I'm talking about!" to KB.

So please forgive me if I slack off on the posts for a bit. (I know, I know, excuses excuses.) I need to find a home for us and a preschool for Nolan and an OB for myself and work on getting this house ready to sell (ugh) and still keep doing all the stuff I normally do every day for our family. So I may be infected with slackitude for the next little while.

Thanks for reading.

Let's hear it for my baby

Welp, it's another boy.

In case you can't see it, the ultrasound tech helpfully labeled the picture "Boy!!!" and inserted an arrow pointing to the, uh...area of interest.


He is healthy, has all his parts - good palate, good brain, good spine, good heart. He's very active, apparently - I can feel some movements, but both the ultrasound tech on Friday and my OB on Monday were like, "Whoa! What's he doing in there?" As if I have some idea. Knitting? Rearranging the furniture?

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed that it's not a girl. So why can't I just come right out and say, "I'm disappointed"? Because that sounds so fucking...harsh. I have to couch it in semi-polite terms and say, "If you asked me, if you really want to know, if I'm being honest...I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed." Somehow that seems more palatable.

And it's not just that I want another girl on the "team" in our household, although that's part of it. I'll be surrounded by penises and I'll never win the Toilet Seat Default Mode war now. ("Down!" "Up!" "Down!" "Up!" "Duck season!" "Rabbit season!") Right now my only ally on the feminine side of things is Lola, and if you've ever met Lola, you know that she's not exactly an asset on the balance sheet of life - she shits on the rug and her favorite hobby is chewing her toes.

It's more that I'd really like to have a girl so I can teach her all the things I think are important about being a girl and then being a woman - all the stuff I screwed up or wished I had known more about or fought harder for (or against). Then again, maybe it's best that I don't have a daughter - I just re-read that last sentence and it sounds like I'd be trying to live my life over again through my daughter. Not a recipe for success. (Whatever "success" is when you're raising kids.)

I was really hoping for a girl, I guess. I just looked at my list of possible baby names for this kid, and there were 11 girls' names and 2 boys' names, both of which are leftovers from the list we made for Nolan. That's a pretty good indicator.

Another big thing is that if we want to try again (for a girl) after this baby, that will just delay my return to the real world by another few years. Sigh.

I'm sure I'll get over it. I'm sure I'll love this kid just as much as I love Nolan.

And I know Nolan's going to be a great older brother, notwithstanding tonight's going-to-bed conversation. We were sitting in the rocking chair, talking about our day, our usual nighttime routine, and in the middle of his typical stall tactics, he comes out with "I don't want your belly to get bigger and bigger and bigger." So I say, "Why?" thinking it will have something to do with him not fitting on my lap anymore. And he says, "Because I'm not ready for all the crying."

Me either, kid. But it comes with the territory.

Thanks for reading.

Judy in disguise

Well, you knew it was inevitable. KB is nearsighted, I'm nearsighted, now we come to find that The Boy is nearsighted.

We went to a pediatric opthamologist last week, and her exact words were, "This isn't the strongest prescription I've ever written for a three year old...but it's close." So we went to the optician the next day and Nolan picked out frames - it was a close decision between purple Power Rangers frames and the bronze ones he eventually decided on. I would have gotten him the purple ones if he really wanted them, since he's the one that has to wear the things, but in my heart of hearts I'm glad he picked the plain bronze ones.


Isn't he painfully, painfully adorable?


*sigh*

My little nerdling.

Thanks for reading.