To be filed under/ another reason I have a hard time making friends: I judge.

Our neighborhood has an "active" FB group. Sometimes it's great. Often times people are selling items or giving them away - we got a jogging stroller for free! Not for me, because I don't run unless I'm being chased, but the ball&chain has been running again so it'll be great for the babe. There is local yard sale information or call out for help. Like the other day when an adorable old dog was found in my yard. I had to call the city to pick him up but I wanted to try & find his owner. I named him Chewy and the long story short is while the owner was out looking for the pup, she asked someone who had seen the picture that I posted in the group. Due to that picture, Chewy was picked up by his owner. Side note, his real name is Buster. But he'll always be Chewy to me.

Sometimes local events are posted or local business recommendations. Most times? It seems to be about animal poop. Dogs not being curbed, cats roaming free. We live in a nice neighborhood that is basically the poop police.

True story: one guy said he was going to be posting pictures of non-dog curbing offenders. This dude is basically going to hide in a bush and take a picture if you don't pick up after your dog. Watch out. Cause people around here have time like that.

Currently there is a ridiculous, angry, passion filled discussion about cat poop.  There is a 33 deep comment string, ranging from one liners like "Cat diapers should solve everything. You're welcome." and paragraphs about the "invasive species" of cats in our neighborhood FB group. And the poor girl who is clearly not a cat person then gets attacked and questioned in terms of why she is in this piece of poop police blotter (as apparently she doesn't actually live in the neighborhood). ALL I want to do is hit reply and say things like:

• For a state where the presidential votes are depended on or weighed heavily - this is your big issue? Seems like crap. {ba-dum-cha I'm here all night. Or 2 more years, unfortunately.}
• So what I'm getting here is if I kill the cat OR I save the cat - I am 50% likely to find a friend among you. What if I don't care - either way? Does that make me the outsider? 
• If I technically live in this neighborhood, but I absolutely don't care about this issue: would you attack me? Or just those that disagree with those inside the coveted neighborhood. 
• Cats are the devil's pet.

To be filed under/ another reason I have a hard time making friends: I judge.

The Children's Museum: Cleveland

We've been to more Children's Museum than my 21 year-old self would ever imagine being to. Boston, Connecticut, St. Louis, Pittsburgh and now Cleveland.

What's not to love:

• The cost. As with all things around here, the Cleve could take a page from the Lou. Lower costs, please sir. For the 4 of us it was just about $30. For the amount of space they offer, this wasn't the best value. Note to self: look at family membership costs before only buying a day pass. This was a rookie mistake.
• It's not that big. There are only 4 rooms to explore. 
• Surprisingly it isn't 100% beast proof. I mean, I know we have some special challenges with the beast JJ, but there were a lot of random little holes that as the beast she would walk across bridges and walk ways she could (and did) fall into them.

What's to love:

• There is a level of desperation of things to do during the winter, I would imagine especially. This is a great option, once you get the yearly membership. 
• Free parking. On the "take a page from the Lou" thought - there isn't always free parking for places and this place has it. 
• It doesn't take forever to get there, from where we are. 15 minutes, this is pretty much the unicorn of Cleveland. Highly desirable, magical and never seen. 
• It isn't a zoo. And I love the zoo here, but it wasn't mobbed with people - which a lot of the Children's Museums we have been to, typically are. 
• The exhibits they do have, are nice.


• SANDasaurus: basically a floor filled with sand. There were dinasour dig sites and sand for as far as the eye could see. The kids loved it and we found a group of kids to play with. We hid dinasour eggs for groups of kids and played for (what felt like) hours having them dig for dinasour eggs. There was a map for dig sites, that when the kids dug they would find fossils. Much fun. 
• Big Red Barn: A play farm that is small enough for the babe. Too small for the big kid, but she did a great job helping her little around. 
• Splish! Splash!: Water room. Enough said. They had "rain coats" to keep the kids dry, FYI that didn't work. We decided to leave the sand pit for last... after getting soaked in the water room? Wasn't our brightest moment. 
• Bridges to Our Community: A miniature village / town / city complete with: a two story house, different rooms including bedrooms & kitchens, dress up, with details down to ironing stations. Bus rides, a grocery store, hospital, bank & cafe. Super cute. This, however, is where there seemed to be baby sized man holes to fall into. The name including "bridges" but underneath the bridge? Areas to fall into.

We'll go back. It's certainly going to be useful for the loads of crappola days we have.  Have I mentioned how lovely it is to be able to get there quickly? Beyond being as impatient as I am (and I am), the beast hates to be in the car.  The sooner we can guarantee she'll be out on the loose - the better it is for all of us.

We'll be back, Children's Museum, If for no other reason to get in some more cowbell.

Constantly Cleveland

 
"Did I ever complain about the heat of St. Louis? If I did, I didn't mean it. I take it back. I take it all back!" - me. Most nights as I bundle myself, teeth chattering, wondering if I will die in my sleep due to equal parts hypothermia & misery.

This is what I get for ever muttering the words, "I won't miss the heat." What a lie. A crazy. Miserable. Lie. Oh to walk out of my door and be hit with temperatures over 100 degrees. The air so thick you feel like you are walking in an oven with your insides cooking to dangerous temperatures.

The only thing constant here in Cleveland is me being miserable and the worst weather. It's almost always grey. I've seen the sun a handful (literally) of times since we moved here 4 months ago. For awhile, it just rained. I don't count seeing the sun, when it's sunny AND raining or snowing. It's weird. It happens, and it doesn't count as seeing the sun. It rained, all.the.time. And here I thought Seattle was known for it's rain. Why Seattle? Why not Cleveland? Cause all it was doing was raining. I would say, "I can't handle another day of rain! Anything but rain!" And you know what? Be careful what you wish for.

Now, if it isn't raining? It's snowing.

Slight, detour: The kids have been waking up early. Like, it's still dark outside, early. I can't yell at JJ to go back to be bed with the result I want - I can give L the what for. One morning (true story), when L came in to wake me up - it was still dark. I shot her 'the look' and told her to go.back.to.bed.

L, "Mom. Will the sun come out?"
Me, "When it's morning, you'll know because it won't be DARK! For the love, go to bed!"
L, "No, mom. I mean - will the sun come out, ever?"

That's how little we see the sun. It's all Alaska up in here.

As I was saying, it's so cold. I'm sure there are colder places, but colder than I can describe. The worst part is the inability to regulate the temperature in the house. We have a big ol' house, built in the 20s. Guess what they didn't use in the 20s? Insulation. Our master bedroom is 27x19. Pause to gasp. It's huge. There is a little offshoot within the room, that I have made my home office. Basically, my office is in my bedroom, but it's blocked off so it isn't that obvious. With a 27x19 room - we had the space. It's the coldest room in the house. By.Far. The next time it dips to hell freezing over temperatures,  as it did a week or so back, I'm bringing in the outdoor thermometer for some real numbers. I'm into numbers. While I can't tell you how cold it was inside the house. I can tell you (allegedly) it was 10 degrees outside, on a good day. And even though it was 10 degrees, the news would say "it feels like 1°." FEELS like 1°???? It felt like hell was freezing over. If I wasn't wearing my Northface long down parka, I was most certainly wearing a winter hat, gloves (without fingers so I could type), scarf & blanket. To add to that? I would light candles. Not to set the mood, but to omit heat. I look like a homeless person, without a shopping cart. Or so I was told.You be the judge. Look at the sadness in my eyes.

Sure, when we were in the STL I wasn't happy about it being so hot, you could break a sweat breathing. But did I look this sad? NO. Ah, to be unable to reach for the remote without losing my breathe due to heat overcoming our home. To shield our rooms of the massive sunlight we once knew. Those were the days...

Cleveland Rocks - links, pages, promises OH my

We move around, a lot. With each move, I research the areas. Major. I find groups to Meetup groups to join, sign up for newsletters, join Facebook groups, like pages, follow businesses & events on the Twitter. It's never enough, but it's part of the process. I thought, perhaps I could start adding to the resources out there. Can't hurt?

Surely that has to be some other poor fool out there looking for this information? Plus. And let's be honest here: it will (hopefully) motivate me to get down more memories. Because, HELLO? I am posting once a month and my kids are practically driving at this point. I'm missing everything.

{whining voice, you get the point}

I digress.

Here are some links, if you are in the mood for (some Cleveland) love.

• Design Sponge - Cleveland's city guide
• Side note: ever going to visit a random city? Check out Design Sponge for city guides. They are fantastic. Local. Real. Perfection.
• Ohio Authority
• i heart cleveland
• Positively Cleveland
• Cleveland Heights Patch
• Shaker Heights Patch 
• Cleveland.com
• Fodors: Cleveland
• Why CLE?

Things to do:

• Things to do in & around Cleveland
• Secret: whenever we move somewhere I keep a calendar of local events. Mostly to keep myself organized, but why not share the love?
• The Christmas Story House
• Seriously. THE CHRISTMAS STORY house. It's here. Reason to move to Cleveland, obviously.
• Cleveland Zoo
• West Side Market
• North Union Farmers Market

But for real? Not a great selection, but there has to be more. So I'm going to find it and I'm going to document it. It's not like I've made a promise like this before, ever.

{sarcastic font with link to prove empty promises}

Settling In

Gah. I have so much to write about, but where to begin?  I still have the shit show that was our move in drafts. It's too God damn long, because it was that much of a show.  We've been here for 4+ weeks, pretty soon we'll have been here for as long as we knew we were coming here. Not that that is saying much.  We're settling in, one box at a time. For the love, the boxes are never ending. We are getting there though.

There are so many things I heart about this place.

Our backyard is beautiful; it's the perfect size. It's big enough to be able to hang out and play but small enough where it is manageable. Sure, I wouldn't hate on a fence, but what can you do? We have a great deck, with built in benches and a boat sandbox turn planter that I am in love with. Oh, and the weather here? It's.GLORIOUS. Sure, at times I may or may not be freezing - but I have yet to give into these strange, foriegn feelings.  I keep those windows open and put the kids in layers. It's been a year since we've been able to keep the windows open and I'm not ready to give in. 

Throughout the house there are tiny little doors, that for the most part, don't open. But I love them just the same.  In the kitchen we have a non-working, built-in old school fridge. It's perfect for storage and just so freaking neat. And the details like the lighting fixtures, brick fireplaceS, and layout (sometimes) make up for the fact that said fireplace(s) don't work (I KNOW) and there isn't nearly enough light at night. But natural light? During the day, there is no shortage of light.  Most walls are 90% windows. It's becoming, (slowly but surely) our (new) home.

Too soon.

We are always moving. We've always been moving. It feels like we'll always keep moving.  This move is harder than any other move. 

Rewind:

2005(ish)
When we moved in with each other, we lived in a lovely little place in Charlestown, MA. It was perfection, if you didn't pay attention to the slanting floors or the 300 square feet.*  It was a "cozy" one bedroom, exposed brick, in an awesome area of the 'Town, cobble stone streets, views of the city and bridge, cheap, close to it all. We loved it. 

2007
When we moved around in Boston, it was out of pregnancy panic necessity.  When I found out we were knocked up, I couldn't get out the once loved 1 bedroom fast enough. We needed space. There would be a baby. The baby would have stuff. The baby would need a room (though I did consider blocking off an area with a curtain in the living room/kitchen/bar stool area). We would get an au pair for childcare because I work for the company, believe in the program, and the wait for daycare in or around Boston is approximately 24 years*. We had to move. Fast.

And move we did; to a lovely (over priced) duplex in the South End of Boston. On the corner of bougie & hit the deck, it's a drive by! Oh but how it was (mostly glorious). The location was divine (to one side), exposed brick (I'm a sucker), TONS of space (to clean), small outdoor space (despite looking over a Dunkin Donut's parking lot, gorgeous kitchen, our first apartment with laundry IN the unit, and always lots of fun. 

We left because of how much the ball&chain was traveling (now laughable), and needing to be more central to where he was going. It was sad to leave Boston, but an important step for our family. It was exciting. It was sad to leave, but not so much - sad - NOOO I'm not ready, more so... Awe. This stinks. Not even, sucks. Actually, that's not true. If I'm being totally honest? We were ready.

2009
We moved to Connecticut, hated our apartment but we made it our own.  It was great to be close (enough) to family & friends, exploring a town I once knew as a college student (spoiler alert: totally not the same). We got to spend time with good friends and I tried to connect with new ones. I was getting there.* We got our first taste of suburban main street, and fell in love with the (possibility) of community.

2011
BOOM. We find out we're moving. Destination: St. Louis, Missouri. 

I can't say I was a fan of the idea, but I can't tell if it was the whole "pick up and move half way across the country thing" or the fact that it was the "7+ months pregnant, moving half way across the country thing." It's hard to say. I guess the reasons aren't important. The bottom line: I wasn't happy. We were up for the adventure, we knew we had to do it, it was good for the ball&chain's career. We said we'd move for as long as L wasn't in middle school.  We sucked it up and powered through. We figured, we'll be in & out in two years and just get 'er done. But God damn it, you crazy ass hoosier, I love you. I fucking love you (yes, F bomb warranted).

It's the little things, like family friendly activities that aren't cheesy, are mostly free, and almost always serve beer. It's the deliciously fresh food, reasonable prices (of most anything), and mostly nice people. The arches in the doorways and cross that hangs in our entry way because our landlords left it in a pocket of the wall - stuck on with old gum or tack - and even after re-painting the place we thought it belonged. The farmer's market that has the best breakfast burrito that has ever been burritoed (and live music, a play ground and kick ass produce). The central standard time zone; best time zone, ever. You aren't so far off either coast to feel disconnected, TV shows are on earlier, you can wake up later, it's really the best time zone there is. Truth. The walk we do, behind our neighborhood, into Washington University. All kinds of secret little passages, in between buildings that look like castles. Bike rides around the neighborhood, the sidewalks, even the god damn grass that I keep killing and the endless plants in the countless gardens that the owners had set up. I love those stupid plants.

I won't miss the heat. That shit is bananas (110 degrees at 8 pm is not right. It's been 90 or higher since February, and our electric bill this month was disgusting). Which reminds me, I'm gonna miss our central air. Cost, be damned.

It's the big things. It's our neighbors, who admire our children. Our neighborhood, who embodies what you see in good ol' family friendly Disney movies (before Lindsay Lohan broke in). It's where we brought our (newest) baby home. And as far as we are from family, and as much as it's hard a lot of the time, it's where we get to really be our own family.  We are able to spend time together in ways that when we are closer, we can't. We have birthdays, dinners, communions, baptisms, showers - the endless obligations that you want to be there for - you just don't get the time we get here.

What are we doing this weekend? Nothing. Hanging out with each other, and we love it.

St. Louis, is where we got all that time together. All that exploring. All that ... I don't know? Family.

The kid has made friends here, she has play dates, she takes dance class, and attends creative camps during the summer. The counselors know her. I want them to see how much she'll grow from this year to next year - like they did this past year. I want to have Halloween here, again. God damn it, I want to march in the July 4th parade again. Oh my god, I just realized. We're going to miss apple festivals, St. Patrick's Day parades, and a hot air balloon race that kicked ass. I'm also realizing all the pictures and posts I forgot to write or publish. I can't link you there, but trust me: good times.  As soon as we figured out all that we loved, and all that we are looking forward to for "next time," it's gone. 

I know, maybe we won't find all of that where we are going - but some portion of this ramble list will be in Cleveland. They have sidewalks there and maybe even plants to kill. It's not the same. It won't be the same {insert toddler strength tantrum here}.

I'm heart broken about the move.*

There are some exciting aspects.  It's a great opportunity for the ball&chain, MUCH less travel during the week, new places to explore.  I do love to set up shop and make a house our home. I've become quite good at it, if I do say so myself. We still get quality time and continue our adventure.

It doesn't change the loss I feel. I didn't cry when we moved from Connecticut to Missouri. I cried when we said goodbye to people. It made me sad to think of L (and our baby to be) not being able to see their family & friends as much as she did. It wrecks me to know that our family relays on pictures, youtube videos and skype to see our babies when they do, and it's not often. That hurts. But moving? Eh. It was a pain in the ass, and I wasn't happy about it - but I bucked up and we moved.

I've already cried a few times, just thinking of moving from here. My heart is heavy and I'm truly sad. Like NOOO I'm not ready, sad. Thinking of someone else in this house, hurts my heart. It sounds so dramatic. I assure you, it doesn't make it any less true. I love this house. I love this neighborhood. I love this god damn city.

I'm not ready.


*An estimate, but probably close.

Pet Shop

We found a house. A beautiful, (almost) perfect, house. In the search for a new home - as it always is - it sucked. The weekend we went to Ohio, we did so by way of driving. If you map St. Louis to Cleveland it's a strong and solid: 9 hours 43 minutes. This does not take into consideration:

• Traffic
• Bathroom breaks
• Where the hell is that binky breaks
• Meal breaks
• Bathroom breaks
• Diaper changing, good lord what is that smell, breaks
• No seriously, where the hell is that binky breaks
• Some kind of law that states it is inhumane to strap children into car seats for any amount of time that exceeds reasonable expectations

After stopping on the way in to catch a few hours of sleep, we drove straight to our first appointment, Friday morning, and spent the next two full days looking at houses. I didn't count, but my best guess is we saw at least 20 different homes. House Hunters, three houses, this was not. In a surprise twist, by in large, the kids were fantastic. L showed off her all too familiar knowledge of home tours, opening doors, exploring, including audible "oohhs" and "ahhhs" in all the right places. At one point, she noted that, "this kitchen has a lot of space. It opens right into this room." If she said, "great open floor plan" I would have died right there, but I don't know - I feel like her sentiments were right on target and close enough. Anyway, there were a lot of houses, and a lot to remember. The house we went with was the first we saw on Saturday morning, I wouldn't expect her to remember it exactly - though I wouldn't have been surprised if she had. 


I had found the house, listed on a website, that had pictures attached to it. I found the link again, and had her look at the pictures to jog her memory. As she skillfully flipped through the pictures on the phone, she got to the last picture - that was of the back yard. This is what I heard.

"Oooh. YEEEEESSS!!! This house comes with pet deer!"

Final picture of the house.

I'm already tearing her away from a home she loves, and friends she will miss. I was not going to take away her new pet deer. So I may or may not have corrected her. Instead, I said, "Um. Yea, but they only visit sometimes and we can't pet them. They are the kind of pets you just look at. Sometimes."

The Moment

The night we told L we were moving was a major moment for me. I didn't know it would be, until it was happening.

The ball&chain got the official word Friday night (Edited to note: a week or so before posting this). The kid likes to plan, and we like to have her be apart of the plan, so we told her hours after finding out. Knowing this was a possibility for the last few weeks, even if only a small possibility, we'd begun to talk about the inevitable move. If not for this situation we'd be moving on in a year or so. While I consider her the smartest damn 4 year old I know, she is 4. If she were older, she probably would have picked up on my (not so) subtle hints that something was brewing. Every once in awhile I would weave into conversation the topic of moving. The topic and conversation would be benign and would normally go a little like this.

Me: "L, what do you think? We will move someday - this isn't our forever home. It might be in a few months, maybe 6, maybe a year, maybe more. What do you think?"
Her: "I hope we move to San Diego."

Alas kid, San Diego is not in the cards, but at least I got her thinking about it.

The night we told her was this weird moment in time I don't know that I expected. As we told her about the exciting news, we were all smiles. We told her about Daddy's new job, that there would be less traveling, that we'd be moving like we did last time.  We told her about Cleveland and all the fun things to do. We told her that she'd help us look for a new house, that this time she would come with us to find our next home. She took it all in, all smiles. Then there was this moment, where I may or may not have been near tears. It all flashed in front of me. I realized that this is it. For real. And it was going to happen fast. Even though I have been mentally preparing that it was likely to happen, it now very was real. I started to think more about the first time we did this. And how hard it was for her. This was going to be worse. My little girl would obviously survive, but this wasn't going to be all smiles for her.

I am near tears, and it's at this moment, this weird moment in time I realize I've stopped looking so excited and she is staring me down. Trying to figure me out. Trying to figure out how she is supposed to feel; how is she supposed to react.

I identify being a mother probably more so than I identify with any role I have in life - but how weird is this: at that very moment in time I felt like a mother so clearly it was as if I never felt like a mom, parent, protector - ever. This little person, looking to me. Depending on me, on us.

Have I mentioned, I'm not going to survive these kids?

I'm going to do my best to smile my way through this hott mess of a situation, because she's watching. She's looking to us on what steps to take and I'd like them to be the easiest steps.

In related news: this parenting thing is freaking hard.

Life lesson: Don't get too comfortable.

We love where we live. While we are far from family and friends, we are making our way here in our little neighborhood in St. Louis, Missouri. The people are great, our neighborhood is what hometown feel good movies are made of, the kid has some good friendships, and I'm making good connections with some locals. It's nice. It's comfortable.

We love our home, our landlords are wonderful, the house is put together. It's our home. We are happy. While the ball&chain travels more than I would like, it isn't (always) so bad. We are in a great routine, I get to work from home, the kids are well taken care of. The baby is walking now and starting to form a little personality and this comes with a nice and reliable schedule. Basically? Everything has fallen into place. We have hit our stride. We are happy.

Don't you feel warm, fuzzy, and all calm inside?
Yeah, I do did too.

{BAM}

Long story short: a few short weeks ago the ball&chain gets a phone call from his manager. He is doing well in his role, and while the plan was for him to stay in this role for two years, there is an interest for him to interview for a new role. In a different section of the company. This is a great opportunity for him, and by all accounts, who wouldn't be thrilled to be thought of for an exciting role, one that would afford him continued career advancement? By all intensive purposes there is a feeling of pride for my husband. He is good at his job kicks ass. He is sought after. It isn't a bad place to be. Speaking of place to be, where might this new and exciting role be?

It isn't in the comfort of our aforementioned lovely and comfortable home. And not even in this state. And not even in this region of the country (I don't think). Note: we've been here for a year. One year. One month.

Of course, we are moving (quickly) to another state I have never been to.

Ohio.

Cleveland, Ohio.

I know. Cleveland, rocks.



And if that doesn't get you pumped, perhaps this will.*



Yeah, this is what is sent to me. Because, I guess... my friends rock. 

This is not a drill. More later, when I scrape my brain from the walls because BOOM. Head.Explodes.




*disclaimer, I'm not hating on the Cleve. We are really excited. I hear great things about it and it seems to be a really family friendly city with warm neighborhoods, wonderful towns, and all that a young family would like to see offered. I am not, however, excited for everything else that will come with moving. We are excited to explore our new city, just incredibly sad to leave the one we have grown to love in such a short amount of time. I guess I lash out when I'm sad. I have issues, if you've been here before I'm not sure this is a shock. Because if you didn't get the hint - WE JUST FREAKING MOVED HERE.