Friday, November 28, 2008


I just found out that my family in France reads this blog to keep up to date with the comings and goings of our little funky monkey, and my poor aunt keeps checking in only to find that this blog has been woefully neglected time and time again. I'm hoping to be able to rectify this, and to post at least more frequently than once a month. I'm sure by now my aunt is the only reader left, considering the long blog silences.

Hopefully now we are entering what I'd like to refer to as the era of peace (and prosperity would be nice to, but I won't push my luck here) in our little life we're building here. We have finally bought the house, after a very frustrating month on pins and needles in which we were homeless (staying at my father's house) and being promised entry every day, only to find more red tape at the end of the day. Yes, internets, we are homeowners. We own a home. Excuse me while I go hide under the covers and quake with fear over what we have done. Yikes! Its terrifying and incredibly exciting all at once. And I don't even think its sunk in yet that we really own it. I'm sure it will sink in the first time something goes wrong and we have no landlords to call!

A day and a half after we closed we ran away to a tropical paradise. Yes, the trip to Puerto Rico had been planned for months, but it just sounds so romantic and jet setting to say that we ran away to a tropical paradise. And it was, in however much of a way it could be with the trip being all about visiting the in laws and such. (editor's note: no. WB and I have not secretly tied the knot or anything, I just refer to them as my in laws for lack of a better word) We had a lovely week, and my grisly fears of nitpicking critical in laws could not have been more off the mark. They were absolutely lovely, and welcomed us into their home with love and open arms. The LFM went directly to them with no hesitation, as if he saw them every weekend. I was astounded (and relieved) by how comfortable he was at their house. And they were in love with every move, every sound, every breath he took. He was so spoiled by the attention that when we got on the last flight home and no one was cooing over him he became hurt and distraught that no one was melting over his charms.

As for me, I enjoyed getting to know them without the shadow of grief and weight of new motherhood clouding the waters between us, and it was more the visit I would have liked to have had when they came for the LFM's birth. Timing really is everything, I suppose, and this time we finally got it right. It was nice to relax after so much stress of moving and closing on the be somewhere without boxes waiting to be unpacked, forced to relax and enjoy ourselves. And the food...oh god, I can't believe I haven't mentioned the food yet! WB's mother is an excellent cook and the food was just to die for. My stomach just piped up in enthusiastic agreement at the mere writing of this. Mmmmmm.....pasteles, I'm dreaming of you....wait for me, oh delicous pasteles. I'll be back for you.

We came back last Saturday, to be greeted once again with a house completely full of a million boxes waiting to be unpacked...but its our house. Our crazy discombobulated house of boxes.

Our home.


Janine Serresseque said...

Pasteles? I am intrigued. What are they? These things that haunt your memory?

Jon said...

congrats on the house... and there are others that do check in from time to time.