we are home.

oh dear, it has been quite awhile.  after the scarring trauma of posting a blog on a dinosaur pc, i could not bring myself to repeat the herculean effort, even at a juncture where my role as historian has perhaps never been so vital.  in the time it took me to finally lay my beloved macbook to rest and replace it with this sleek silver bullet (christmas came early this year!), transfer all my files and photos back over, and get semi-comfortable using this pretty little thing, we have totally skipped recording the settling in phase and have moved right along into being settled.  

sure, boxes are unpacked, some pictures are hung, windows mostly have blinds, houseplants have been replaced.  honestly, most of that occurred within two weeks of our arrival.  true "settling in" is more an emotional than physical process, an integration into the community, a comfort and ease with everyday life and surroundings.  i'd say we more or less have that.  i'm not much one for gushing or any overtly emotional response as it tends to damage credibility.  but in the aftermatherw of the monster decision-cum-action to relocate several thousand miles from everything that has ever meant anything, allow me to sigh deeply, dab my brow, and say, we done good.  we love it here.

before the kids arrived, in rare moments when we came up for air from all the unpacking and organizing, life felt very empty and strange without them.  we are so grounded in their routines, even being away from them for a day can make us feel a little loopy.  i knew life would be different in davis, but the first day they arrived here, i felt gripped with legitimate fear.  confused and jetlagged, both of them whined and cried and grabbed at me ferociously.  knowing david had a stay-at-home safety net and would return to work soon, i broke out into a cold sweat without the same comfort (it's possible i suffer from ptsd after rearing those two chimpanzees in chicago).  i made a mental note to put the job search at the top of my priority list and told myself to get my sh*t together and remember how to parent.

and then, something miraculous, several things really, happened.  my job search indefinitely halted while i await my california license, little by little, the kids and i began to define a new routine after dad went back to work.  and i found, in the most wonderful possible way, that nothing is the same.  it's amazing what a little space, the ability to separate ourselves by more than ten feet at any given moment, can do. 

at first, we didn't venture far from home, because we don't have to.  we all have our own bedrooms now.  we all see and hear a little less of each other during the day, and more importantly, overnight.  in the morning, we reunite for the day.  instead of kicking and screaming about changing diapers, brushing teeth, and changing clothes, if anyone disagrees with my suggestions, i simply say "alright, i'm going downstairs.  when you're ready to _______, come and get me."  works like a charm within 30 seconds.  you may recall our previous living/play space, where that trick was not an option:

i think my lap takes up 40% of it.

here is our new space the day we moved in:

which quickly turned into this:

more than one person has seen this room and asked me if i run a daycare.  this room is advertised as the formal living/dining room.  seeing as we're not very formal and lack any furniture or personality traits to suggest otherwise, we decided instead to make the center of our home a children's wonderland.  much [perceived] success in parenting in these early years is about creating an environment appropriate for them to explore.  you cannot stop a toddler from grabbing, pulling, tearing, climbing, tumbling, throwing, swinging, rolling and generally destroying, so you can either experience constant stress trying to prevent life-threatening injury and almost certainly be the focal point of astounding and bottomless rage, or you can go with the flow.  fancy decor we have not, but i daresay two happy, independent, quiet, sharing, loving little babies who won't spend their entire childhood marginalized in some corner of the house or constantly hearing NO is well worth that sacrifice.

so, the kids have ample space to roam freely and safely within the house, allowing the adults to slink away undetected and do things like...cook.  clean.  rest.  read a book.  not in the same way as one without children might, but these were sheer impossibilities, or so we thought before, with two of them.  no more crying.  NO MORE CRYING.  days, plural, pass without the faintest suggestion of disdain on the part of TWO TODDLERS.  what alternate universe are we living in?

so, that is the indoors.  the true novelty of living in davis, however, is the outdoors.  the temperature is a predictable bell curve throughout the day, with cool mornings and evenings, dry air, and no clouds.  we have a backyard.  a completely fenced in, grassy area that currently has no plants or animal feces.  there is a space connected to my home to which i can open a door, shuffle out two babies who really make it their goal to find peril in any and every situation, lie in the middle of the grass, close my eyes, and know that very little harm can befall them.

but why would we dilly dally in the backyard when our entire neighborhood, and in some ways this entire city, is an oversized park?  we're isolated from any remotely busy streets by blocks.  no more navigating crowded spaces with a monster stroller, these kids walk everywhere.  we're trying to teach them to watch for cars, and they think it's a game, because there are no cars.  our street is full of families with children between 1-7.  nobody drives fast, toys are common property, and we often find each other's children at neighboring homes.  we even had a block party for labor day.  yes, those still exist.  so do little plastic yellow boys proclaiming "children at play."  many evenings we all congregate around a common driveway and watch the kids take over the block while we chat and sip wine.  we genuinely enjoy their company.


three houses down from us, we enter the greenbelt, where truly, not coincidentally, there are no cars.  100 yards later we hit the first of hundreds of parks.  100 yards after that, we hit a nature area where we look for wild animals.  when bean first saw a hawk overhead, she called it an airplane.  she never saw a soaring bird.  now she could differentiate a redtail hawk from a turkey buzzard and the call of an owl, a crow, a jay.  she knows the coastal oak, the valley oak, poison oak, the phases of the moon, and how to choose ripe fruits and vegetables.  they can climb, hang, step and leap in ways they never could before (and have the scabs, bruises and bumps to prove it).  requests have changed from, "i wanna turn on the tv" to "let's go to the bridge and look for animals."  or, "let's go hiking."

whereas in chicago, having children felt remarkably isolating, here i'm not sure how i would meet people without them.  everywhere we go, everything we do, is family friendly.  the town is overrun by parents who love raising children.  bean might wander up to some children, or reese might hoard peaches from a random stroller, and a new friendship is born.  at the library, at the market, at the store, we are constantly meeting people, making playdates, sharing meals.  everyone is approachable, unassuming, inviting.

and in chicago, the weather, our location, and the kids' age kept us inside many months of the year.  sometimes days would pass before we left our 800 sq ft living space because it was too hot, too cold, or because one of the three of us didn't have the fortitude to deal with the crowds, the filth, the panhandlers, the passive aggressive yuppie moms, the flat out weirdos, the tantrums.  i was once spit on by a biker on my way to the post office mere blocks from our home because he had a categorical bias against double strollers.  true story.  i know that's why he did it, because i was so shocked i had to ask.  any outing, even to the park visible from our building, required planning, preparation and packing as though we were leaving for a week.  the ability to just walk out the front door and go without doing more than a quick slather of sunscreen provides a liberation that's impossible to describe.

obviously, we have plenty to keep us busy right here at home.  however, seeing as i was unintentionally and quite fortuitously relegated to stay-at-home momhood, i decided to embrace the rare opportunity, and really take advantage of what the community has to offer while i can.  through the city, the kids both take gymnastics classes and a preschool class with my supervision.  wednesday evenings and saturday mornings we shop at the farmer's market and have a picnic (this was a rather unenjoyable, whole day affair that we attempted roughly 3x in chicago).  the kids go nuts for the amazing fruit here.  tuesday, thursday, and saturday i run with the local running group, often traveling to different areas in northern california for races.  once a month i have book club.  we go to stores.  we go to restaurants.  and i can do all of this solo, an opportunity never before afforded.  there is an unwritten 1:1 adult:toddler ratio in a big city.  each day that my license doesn't arrive in the mail, i'm relieved.  we are having the time of our lives.

the kids at "school"

bean and i at our respective races.

we haven't even scratched the surface of what davis has to offer, but the geographical location lends itself to day trips, a large consideration in moving here.  if david has a day off, we can say things like, hey, why don't we have dinner tonight in napa?  or, let's spend the afternoon walking around berkeley with the kids.  slightly less last-minute are our family hiking trips to the likes of muir woods and lake tahoe.  we finally broke out the backpacks that sat untouched in our chicago apartment and can take easy family adventures to places that people trek from around the globe to see.  in chicago, it was mass pandemonium trying to travel six miles to the lincoln park zoo.

in my free time (which was more ample before reese quit napping three weeks ago, an ongoing debate between us), i've been enjoying getting to know my new sewing machine, working on projects for the house and further expanding my love of designing and making children's clothing.  i'm in the middle of a few projects, so pictures will have to wait for the next post.  i've been able to do a fair amount of cooking and canning as well, which will be very exciting once berries and stone fruit finally stops growing here...for now, still going strong.  strawberries in september, imagine!

david too has been enjoying our new lifestyle.  his shifts are 9 hours with 2 hours at the end to document, if needed.  and he works about 4-5 shifts fewer a month, which translates into much more time at home than it sounds like.  he loves the group he works with, a substantial amount of whom also live in davis.  again, everyone seems to have kids our age and eager to reach out and make us feel at home.  he has been dividing his free time between running with my group and easing into the serious bicycle culture here.  i would write more about it, but perhaps he can do it more justice in a future guest post...?

it's plain to see our overall quality of life has multiplied exponentially here.  all four of us can accomplish more, and enjoy each other's company more than we ever imagined.  i do have to credit the kids' development a little bit--reese came back from michigan walking, talking, and with a mouthful of teeth.  bean's language and comprehension has blossomed into the most interesting, entertaining expressed perspective on life.  the introduction of the word yes, (just as reese is becoming fluent in NO), and "i can do it!" has revolutionized her attitude.  she is sensitive and astute, and when she senses frustration, she says, "are you happy, mama?"  she uses proper pronouns, conjugates verbs, and has hilarious conversations with reese (e.g. no reesey, do NOT play with that, that is mine, ok?  here, play with this one.).  she connects thoughts and phrases, like, "i'm thirsty, i want some water, over there, the orange cup on the counter."  or, "reese doesn't want to read the book right now, he said no."  and she sings all the time, and her first race has given her a real taste for running.

i am so used to having a baby every may, i find myself pausing to appreciate that if you stop having babies, your babies grow up.  you can sleep eight hours at night.  you can wash your hair.  you can go places without a baby strapped to your chest.  you can stop flashing your boobs in public constantly.  you can sometimes not wear filthy clothing.  you can have moments, although fleeting, of solitude.  and more importantly, you can watch them grow into amazing little children.

so, what else is there to say, other than that we're so thrilled to be here?  we've had no shortage of visitors already, all of whom we've put to work (as it turns out, even new houses require a lot of that) on helping us clean, paint, build, move, and install our way into our new home. 

it's so lovely, and so comfortable, and has a bird-themed guest suite (my foray into interior design...) just waiting to welcome you.  so, when are you coming?