using the phone

Since it's just me and Kiddo, I sometimes feel the need to talk to adults. I'd like to call you up and do so, but Kiddo says no. When I talk on the phone, she instructs me to "say goo-bye..." and tries to hang up the phone. When I pulled out the phone to call someone today, she looked upset and said "no, no, no."

So don't feel bad if I don't call, Kiddo wants none of it.

the last two weeks

I am slightly behind. On Tuesday, November 17th, my husband became an academic doctor. On Wednesday, we drove east to his new job, and where we will soon live. We stayed there three days, spent an evening with a cousin, her husband, and her parents (my aunt and uncle) then dropped hubby off at the airport to attend a professional conference. Kiddo and I headed back to the house for three days of sleeping in our own beds, and not eating out.

The next Tuesday, we picked Daddy up at the airport, and headed south for the extended family Thanksgiving extravaganza. What am I not thankful for this year? It was great.

We cut out early to spend two or three days in our old home before Husband goes back to work tomorrow, and Kiddo and I stay here. We made this decision because we don't yet have a place to live there. (Soon. I'm sure.) The one thing we are absolutely positive of is that my kid does not sleep well out of her bed. So she and I will stay here.

Last weekend when I drove into town I thought: I love this place, do I really want to leave? This weekend I thought: It's time to go. Now I just need a place to set up my kid's crib.

little kicker

When Kiddo was in utero, she only ever kicked or jabbed that I could feel. There was never a "gentle flutter" or any feeling of her sloshing around, just kicks and jabs. Near the end there was also prolonged pushing, so I'd push back.

Her sibling seems to be on the same course. I first felt movement about two weeks ago. The first was a kick. A moment or so later I felt a non-kicking movement, he/she shifted, I thought I would be sick to my stomach. He/she did that again the next day. Given those two experiences, I'm grateful for Kiddo's thoughtful treatment.

Since then, we've been limited to kicks and jabs. But, at this point, it doesn't hurt, so I'm trying to enjoy it while this kid is still small. And be grateful for evidence that all is well.

thoughts for breakfast time

The last two mornings we've had breakfast at the hotel while my husband started his job (much paper work) and we looked for housing (don't ask - we've found a few places we like, now we'll just see if and when we can move in...). The hotel did an adequate breakfast.

Each morning my husband had two hard-boiled eggs. As soon as he sat at the table, both mornings, Kiddo announced "Dada. Eggs." And then she recited (over and over) some lines from our "farm song" CD that we listen to constantly in the car (a book and CD set by StudioMouse). "Crack, crack, crack. Out pops a ball of feathers." He did a double take of his eggs, and ate them anyway.

the doctor is in (again)

Today my husband successfully defended his dissertation. We can call him Dr. I'm afraid his only useful skill is the ability to do large amounts of mathematics, specifically relating to fluid dynamics (oh, and some computer programming). Add this to my ability to read, judge, and write tests, and well, there's something to be said for years and years of education.

I'm extremely proud of him. The circumstances surrounding his dissertation and defense are some of the hardest I've encountered, and he succeeded. That's my man.

After dropping him off at work this morning, Kiddo and I drove away, with her announcing "Dada. Work. Dada. Work." I told her that he had a big day today, and I hope that she never has to go through this herself. I guess time (lots of it) will tell.

Yay Daddy!

about four hours east...

...is the Atlantic Ocean. If you stop just short of the ocean, you'll find our new home.

In a whirlwind opportunity, about eight weeks ago my husband interviewed for a post-doc. Then about six weeks ago they called to offer it to him. While the paper work took longer than we expected, we are now on the fast track to moving.

This offer is why my husband had to finish his dissertation in six weeks instead of three months. This is why we still have no chairs or a couch in our living room. This is why I constantly think about how much I will miss my daughter's nursery at church. But in most instances, we're pretty excited.

We start moving next Wednesday, when my husband reports for work, and Kiddo and I start looking for apartments (house hunting solo, 17 weeks pregnant with a 23-month old will be good times, I'm sure). We'll then bounce back and forth between our old and new places while my husband attends an academic conference, we visit family for Thanksgiving, gather our stuff (words cannot express how excited I am to see my kitchen stuff and new books to read Kiddo), and check out of our old place. Whew.

There is no doubt in our minds that Heavenly Father has led us to this place in our lives, and opened up doors, and will continue to do so. It is for that reason especially that we are anxious to see how we will continue to be blessed, and how we can bless others as we move on from the wonderful place we've lived for the last while.

There is anxiousness, and excitement, but really, the change can be summed up in this phrase: where we're going is not like where we're leaving. So here comes our new life.

"paje"

Kiddo loves books. She loves them to be read to her, and she loves to read them herself. She is now sufficiently verbal that it is clear from her reading that she knows all the story lines, and many of the words. (Not surprising given the number of times we've read the 30 of so books not in storage, which were kept out specifically because they were already her favorites.)

What this really means though, is that it's impossible to shorten the books when she wants to read more than I do. If I should (covertly) skip a page she exclaims with concern, "paje!" and helps turn back to the missing page. At least I can still skip some lines within the page.