Thursday, October 4, 2012
This Old {Rental} House
Oh, the perils of renting.
For the last (almost) two years we have been renting a 1952 brick Colonial in a historic Norfolk neighborhood. We have a love-hate relationship with this house. My husband probably has more of a like-hate relationship. But this post needs to serve as a big frying pan to whack myself over the head with when, in a few years, I inevitably want to rent a charming historic home again.
There is a big difference between buying a charming historic home and renting one. We own a 1942 home in Norfolk. We loved shining that house up like a pretty penny. It has great old detail and sweet modern amenities. And importantly, when something wasn't quite right for us - we changed it. A quick trip to Home Depot and *voila*, my amazingly talented and handy husband would whip up a fix that was both aesthetically pleasing and practical. (why we don't live in this house now is a long story, but can easily be summed up by two words: too small).
Not so much in a rental.
When we moved in, it was clear that the house "needed a hug". There were basic things that were just wrong about the home and should have served as a red flag that our landlords might not be the meticulous homeowners that we are. But we were charmed by the neighborhood, the great molding, the big rooms, and the size. Plus, "it's just a rental" is something I'm sure most of us have said a thousand times to keep from going nuts.
Nothing has gone drastically wrong over the past two years, but there are grating issues (a leaky roof, no bathroom on the first level, some layout frustrations, very expensive oil heat pared with old windows and crappy insulation) that we will be thankful to say goodbye to in December.
But overall, I think the biggest problem is that we are honestly not good renters. We own two homes - one in Norfolk and one in Maryland. We love the freedom owning gives us. The freedom to renovate, decorate, and improve. With renting, you are walking a tightrope between your own comfort, and dumping your money into someone else's investment. So learning how to decorated a rental is a bit of an art. Which is where my friend Karen comes in.
Karen at A Lease to Decorate writes about how to turn a rental property into a home without spending a ton of money. She discusses the art of cohesive furniture, projects that you can do for very little money, and features different rooms that renters submit. Last week, she did a write up on my living room. I felt a little bit like an impostor because I don't love my living room and it is nowhere near perfect. If we owned this home it would be different. But I do think I did a relatively good job with giving it a dual, functional, and still aesthetically pleasing look.
But as a military family, I think Karen (an Army wife) is on to something. It is important that we feel at home when we are changing our locale every few years. And since nobody is getting rich in the military, learning to do it on a budget and with some creativity is important. Reading her blog has made me excited about moving into a new blank slate of a house in a few months. Even more fun? The Army is going to decide whether I get a brand new home or a historic one. We are living on base, and our house will be luck of the draw. Leavenworth has homes just like the one we are in, and new ones similar to the one we own in Maryland. So stand by on that one ...
There are some things I will really miss about this old Norfolk charmer. I will miss watching Connor use Kate's hair barrettes to unlock the old keyhole doors.
I will miss the moldings, I will miss the creaky hardwood floors where you need to learn exactly where to step late at night to not wake the babies, I will miss our gorgeous staircase. I will miss having a huge dining room that encouraged us to use our formal dining table almost every night. I will miss being so close to the water and being able to put my kids in a stroller and go places like the library, school, playgrounds, and even Old Dominion University.
I will not miss the tiny closets, the small bathroom that our entire family shares (one sink, no cabinetry), the fact that to get to our guest room/office you have to walk through Connor's nursery. I will not miss potty training a two year old without a bathroom on the main level of the house (unless you count the old "help" bathroom in our garage that is currently a storage closet). I will not miss the pine trees that drip sap on my car and make it so we need to rake 365 days a year. I will not miss being only a few houses away from a major road. I will not miss feeling like I can never get our floors clean. I will absolutely, totally, completely not miss the cockroaches. This waterfront neighborhood is notorious for them and they.freak.me.the.f.out.
I cycle between wanting new and old. We own an old home in Norfolk, and a new home in Maryland. As much as we love the Maryland house, it was almost too quiet. It was like that perfect preppy girl who has a dry personality. No pizazz. So while I lived in boring newness, I missed the flare and adventure of an old home. So we swung back the other direction into a home with a lot of character. Now, after two years, I secretly hope that the Army gives us a plain Jane predictable house with windows that are easy to open and a dishwasher that isn't so loud that I have to leave the kitchen.
We should find out what personality our next house will have mid-November. My true opinion and feelings will probably break through when we receive that news.
For the last (almost) two years we have been renting a 1952 brick Colonial in a historic Norfolk neighborhood. We have a love-hate relationship with this house. My husband probably has more of a like-hate relationship. But this post needs to serve as a big frying pan to whack myself over the head with when, in a few years, I inevitably want to rent a charming historic home again.
There is a big difference between buying a charming historic home and renting one. We own a 1942 home in Norfolk. We loved shining that house up like a pretty penny. It has great old detail and sweet modern amenities. And importantly, when something wasn't quite right for us - we changed it. A quick trip to Home Depot and *voila*, my amazingly talented and handy husband would whip up a fix that was both aesthetically pleasing and practical. (why we don't live in this house now is a long story, but can easily be summed up by two words: too small).
Not so much in a rental.
When we moved in, it was clear that the house "needed a hug". There were basic things that were just wrong about the home and should have served as a red flag that our landlords might not be the meticulous homeowners that we are. But we were charmed by the neighborhood, the great molding, the big rooms, and the size. Plus, "it's just a rental" is something I'm sure most of us have said a thousand times to keep from going nuts.
Nothing has gone drastically wrong over the past two years, but there are grating issues (a leaky roof, no bathroom on the first level, some layout frustrations, very expensive oil heat pared with old windows and crappy insulation) that we will be thankful to say goodbye to in December.
But overall, I think the biggest problem is that we are honestly not good renters. We own two homes - one in Norfolk and one in Maryland. We love the freedom owning gives us. The freedom to renovate, decorate, and improve. With renting, you are walking a tightrope between your own comfort, and dumping your money into someone else's investment. So learning how to decorated a rental is a bit of an art. Which is where my friend Karen comes in.
Karen at A Lease to Decorate writes about how to turn a rental property into a home without spending a ton of money. She discusses the art of cohesive furniture, projects that you can do for very little money, and features different rooms that renters submit. Last week, she did a write up on my living room. I felt a little bit like an impostor because I don't love my living room and it is nowhere near perfect. If we owned this home it would be different. But I do think I did a relatively good job with giving it a dual, functional, and still aesthetically pleasing look.
But as a military family, I think Karen (an Army wife) is on to something. It is important that we feel at home when we are changing our locale every few years. And since nobody is getting rich in the military, learning to do it on a budget and with some creativity is important. Reading her blog has made me excited about moving into a new blank slate of a house in a few months. Even more fun? The Army is going to decide whether I get a brand new home or a historic one. We are living on base, and our house will be luck of the draw. Leavenworth has homes just like the one we are in, and new ones similar to the one we own in Maryland. So stand by on that one ...
There are some things I will really miss about this old Norfolk charmer. I will miss watching Connor use Kate's hair barrettes to unlock the old keyhole doors.
Connor using my keys, but he prefers hair accessories
I will miss the moldings, I will miss the creaky hardwood floors where you need to learn exactly where to step late at night to not wake the babies, I will miss our gorgeous staircase. I will miss having a huge dining room that encouraged us to use our formal dining table almost every night. I will miss being so close to the water and being able to put my kids in a stroller and go places like the library, school, playgrounds, and even Old Dominion University.
I will not miss the tiny closets, the small bathroom that our entire family shares (one sink, no cabinetry), the fact that to get to our guest room/office you have to walk through Connor's nursery. I will not miss potty training a two year old without a bathroom on the main level of the house (unless you count the old "help" bathroom in our garage that is currently a storage closet). I will not miss the pine trees that drip sap on my car and make it so we need to rake 365 days a year. I will not miss being only a few houses away from a major road. I will not miss feeling like I can never get our floors clean. I will absolutely, totally, completely not miss the cockroaches. This waterfront neighborhood is notorious for them and they.freak.me.the.f.out.
I cycle between wanting new and old. We own an old home in Norfolk, and a new home in Maryland. As much as we love the Maryland house, it was almost too quiet. It was like that perfect preppy girl who has a dry personality. No pizazz. So while I lived in boring newness, I missed the flare and adventure of an old home. So we swung back the other direction into a home with a lot of character. Now, after two years, I secretly hope that the Army gives us a plain Jane predictable house with windows that are easy to open and a dishwasher that isn't so loud that I have to leave the kitchen.
We should find out what personality our next house will have mid-November. My true opinion and feelings will probably break through when we receive that news.
Monday, October 1, 2012
2% + 10 Years
This past weekend we went up to Annapolis, Maryland for John's 10 year reunion at the Naval Academy. We had an amazing time, drank way (way!) too much, and got to catch up with many close friends and familiar faces.
Annapolis is a place that both John and I feel completely at ease. It is familiar, happy, and comfortable. We can both sit on the concrete benches at Ego Alley and just stare happily into oblivion. I remember sitting on those very benches 14 years ago when he was a Plebe (a freshman) and I as a high school senior visiting my handsome boyfriend. I remember seeing him cross to the sidewalk in his whites and brand new Ray Ban sunglasses and swooning at the very sight of him. We have a lot of memories there.
I said goodbye to him there as he entered the Naval Academy on Induction Day 1998. (which, by the way, for 17 year old me was one of the hardest things I have ever done).
Was there to put on his officer bars when he graduated on May 24, 2002.
We were married there on June 28, 2003. One of the happiest days of our life.
It is just "our place".
At the Naval Academy, it is pretty rare for a high school girlfriend to still be a girlfriend (or fiance) by graduation 4 years later. It actually has an official name - the 2% Club - which is the mythical number of mids who will still be with the significant other they were with on I Day at graduation day. Shoot, it's even in the USNA Parent Handbook Glossary. Happily, we were in that small group of people. And it made this past weekend almost just as much a reunion for me as it was for Johnny. I know his friends. Not in the "hey, this is my wife Jill who you have met at a few football games" way. But in the "remember the time we Jill snuck into Bancroft Hall and..." (shhhhhhh!).
We brought Kate and Connor to part of the reunion and about 10 minutes of the football game.
It was Connor's first game but it had already been a long day. So after we knew things were spiraling downhill quickly, my (amazing) mother scooped up the kids and took them back to McLean for the night. And there John and I were. No kids, our friends, a beautiful Annapolis evening, and the knowledge that we could sleep in the next morning at our hotel. A dangerous combination.
We drank at Ram's Head, stayed at the Loews (the hotel we stayed at on our wedding night), and had brunch the next morning on the dock at Pusser's. Aside from the (slight) hangover for me, and brutal hangover for Johnny, I would say it was a picture perfect time.
Who knows when we will all be together like this again. It is what makes the Navy unique, wonderful, and torturous. Our paths cross and then divert. We live down the street, then around the world. But for just 48 hours, most of us were in one place just to be together for a few hours.
Annapolis is a place that both John and I feel completely at ease. It is familiar, happy, and comfortable. We can both sit on the concrete benches at Ego Alley and just stare happily into oblivion. I remember sitting on those very benches 14 years ago when he was a Plebe (a freshman) and I as a high school senior visiting my handsome boyfriend. I remember seeing him cross to the sidewalk in his whites and brand new Ray Ban sunglasses and swooning at the very sight of him. We have a lot of memories there.
I said goodbye to him there as he entered the Naval Academy on Induction Day 1998. (which, by the way, for 17 year old me was one of the hardest things I have ever done).
John on Induction Day.
I have a cute one of the two of us, but it was before the digital age and it is framed somewhere up in a box in our scary attic. Maybe another time...
Was there to put on his officer bars when he graduated on May 24, 2002.
Right after placing his officer cover for the first time
We were married there on June 28, 2003. One of the happiest days of our life.
"Welcome to the Navy!" (they should say "ready or not!!!")
It is just "our place".
Downtown Annapolis
At the Naval Academy, it is pretty rare for a high school girlfriend to still be a girlfriend (or fiance) by graduation 4 years later. It actually has an official name - the 2% Club - which is the mythical number of mids who will still be with the significant other they were with on I Day at graduation day. Shoot, it's even in the USNA Parent Handbook Glossary. Happily, we were in that small group of people. And it made this past weekend almost just as much a reunion for me as it was for Johnny. I know his friends. Not in the "hey, this is my wife Jill who you have met at a few football games" way. But in the "remember the time we Jill snuck into Bancroft Hall and..." (shhhhhhh!).
We brought Kate and Connor to part of the reunion and about 10 minutes of the football game.
Connor during the one moment he wasn't crying during the game
It was Connor's first game but it had already been a long day. So after we knew things were spiraling downhill quickly, my (amazing) mother scooped up the kids and took them back to McLean for the night. And there John and I were. No kids, our friends, a beautiful Annapolis evening, and the knowledge that we could sleep in the next morning at our hotel. A dangerous combination.
We drank at Ram's Head, stayed at the Loews (the hotel we stayed at on our wedding night), and had brunch the next morning on the dock at Pusser's. Aside from the (slight) hangover for me, and brutal hangover for Johnny, I would say it was a picture perfect time.
Who knows when we will all be together like this again. It is what makes the Navy unique, wonderful, and torturous. Our paths cross and then divert. We live down the street, then around the world. But for just 48 hours, most of us were in one place just to be together for a few hours.
Part of our group on the dock at Pusser's in Annapolis
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Misplaced Rage
I woke up to "breaking news" this morning and a smug Matt Lauer smiling ear to ear. After a long night of negotiations, the NFL has settled with it's referees and answered the prayers of millions of Americans. No more game changing bad calls, no more disrespect and disorder, and no more clogged Facebook feed with whiny football posts. The referees got what they wanted (for the most part), and generally speaking, the American public is ecstatic. Just in time for Thursday night football!
Calls for the NFL to pay up because the refs were worth every penny was becoming deafening and the league owners and commissioners just couldn't ignore the fan base anymore. They did something that doesn't happen much anymore: they listened to their customers.
But I'll be honest. This entire thing has only made me sad about the priorities and passion of the American public. The things that really seem to rock our worlds just don't add up.
Anyone remember that other little strike that has been in the news this month?
Calls for the NFL to pay up because the refs were worth every penny was becoming deafening and the league owners and commissioners just couldn't ignore the fan base anymore. They did something that doesn't happen much anymore: they listened to their customers.
But I'll be honest. This entire thing has only made me sad about the priorities and passion of the American public. The things that really seem to rock our worlds just don't add up.
Anyone remember that other little strike that has been in the news this month?
The Chicago teacher strike was generally unpopular with Americans and the media. Most strikes in public education are. The strike in Chicago was basically over the following issues: limits to class size, health insurance, fair evaluations, and better working conditions. When you have buildings where children are wearing winter coats in the winter to stay warm, there is something very wrong. Americans should be disgusted and outraged about the conditions that our teachers and students are faced with in many public schools. But we aren't.
We are outraged by this:
This was the call that got things going. Not necessarily changed everything, as coaches and players had made it clear that they had no respect for the "replacement referees". This was the moment where it clicked with millions how valuable the "real" referees are, how hard their job is, and how important they are to the NFL brand.
When the Chicago teachers were on strike the media and public turned their backs. There were calls to just replace them with college graduates that needed jobs. I mean, shoot ya'll, teaching is a breeze and anyone can do it, right? The sentiment that these hard working teachers, teachers that had been in Chicago schools for decades, could just be replaced by 22 year old recent graduates (who cares what their major was, right?) was insulting and degrading. But replace an NFL ref with an NCAA ref? Ohmygoodness the sky is falling!
I am a believer and supporter of public education. I have a Masters degree in Education, I worked in public schools as a counselor for several years, and I am the product of public schools (K-12). I also realize that education has become a very low priority for a very good portion of this country. Even as we are calling for schools to do more (to be the doctors, counselors, nutritionists, and coaches in addition to the very huge job of teaching to the very high federal standards), we are asking them to do it with less. I have worked with thousands of teachers over the years, and the vast majority of them got into the field for the love of children and learning. Not the money, not the glory, not the summers. The kids.
Teachers are not martyrs. They should not have to teach in impossible conditions with impossible standards and unfair evaluation practices. When teachers strike, the major sentiment from the powers that be are "you are hurting the children". Ouch. To tell a group of professionals that they are hurting their kids because they had the audacity to fight for their professional selves is unbelievable and hurtful. Forget about the years they have spent nurturing kids, staying late for conferences and tutoring, coaching into the late night hours, and spending their at-home time grading papers. Teachers should be in it solely "for the kids" - not "for the money".
For a long time I have said that teaching has gotten the brunt of gender inequality. People want to see teachers as sweet, preppy, smiley little women who come to school to love on kids and make a few extra dollars to supplement her husband's income before she decides to have kids and leave the job to the next 24 year old fresh out of grad school. Not people who have a backbone to fight for issues that are important to them and their livelihood. A livlihood that, in many cases, supports a whole family.
But alas, I didn't see my Facebook wall light up in support of teachers. Nope. It takes a pissed off NFL fan, or someone's messed up Fantasy Football game, to make us really mad about the state of things in the world. The Chicago teachers were made out to look money hungry, with many outlets touting the average $74,000 per year salary (sadly implying that the teachers who are on the front lines don't deserve that much). I didn't see anyone making a fuss about the NFL referees asking too much money (even though, even when you account for summers the teachers are working far more than the NFL refs). If anything, people were screaming to give them whatever they wanted. We need them.
I don't make this comparison to belittle the NFL or my NFL-loving friends. I get that this is a multi-billion dollar industry and that people take major pride in their football teams. I make this comparison because I truly believe, with all of my heart, that experience matters. That we should never discount an experienced teacher as "replaceable" and then two weeks later be up in arms about how bad the "replacement refs" are. We shouldn't value the Ravens vs. Browns game tonight more than we value a child's experience in the classroom. I am hoping that this "national football crisis" opens our eyes and applies itself to more pressing concerns.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
My Scary Attic
Oh, my poor little neglected blog. I have a lot on my plate right now, but for some reason when I have a cluttered life my mind goes *poof* blank. I will try to do better over the next few months.
Um, holy crap we're moving. In less than three months.
Johnny came home last night and told me, "the movers will be here around December 7th, take three days to pack, be out by the 11th, are given 10 days to travel, sooooo.... yea.... we are basically praying to the moving gods that we get our stuff before the Christmas holiday". Awesome. Because we all know how incredibly motivated the world is between December 23rd and January 2nd.
Living with our "survival box" for a few weeks over the holidays when it was just Johnny and I? Somewhat uncomfortable, but we would re-frame as "camping adventure for two". Living in those conditions with a 2 and 3 year old? Holymotherinheavensavemenow NOOO!
This will be an interesting Christmas, folks. Please send me some good vibes that things fall into place and I'm not cooking myself a Christmas hot dog on a mini Foreman grill.
Even though I feel like we do a decent job of getting rid of stuff, I am still amazed at how much crap we have. How did we ever get so much crap?! And it honestly makes me wonder what people who never move have lurking in their attics and basements. Clothes from 1989? Wrapping paper from their daughter's school sale in 1993? A car seat that expired in 2001?
Let me share with you what has kept me up at night lately. No judging allowed!
Um, holy crap we're moving. In less than three months.
Johnny came home last night and told me, "the movers will be here around December 7th, take three days to pack, be out by the 11th, are given 10 days to travel, sooooo.... yea.... we are basically praying to the moving gods that we get our stuff before the Christmas holiday". Awesome. Because we all know how incredibly motivated the world is between December 23rd and January 2nd.
Living with our "survival box" for a few weeks over the holidays when it was just Johnny and I? Somewhat uncomfortable, but we would re-frame as "camping adventure for two". Living in those conditions with a 2 and 3 year old? Holymotherinheavensavemenow NOOO!
This will be an interesting Christmas, folks. Please send me some good vibes that things fall into place and I'm not cooking myself a Christmas hot dog on a mini Foreman grill.
Even though I feel like we do a decent job of getting rid of stuff, I am still amazed at how much crap we have. How did we ever get so much crap?! And it honestly makes me wonder what people who never move have lurking in their attics and basements. Clothes from 1989? Wrapping paper from their daughter's school sale in 1993? A car seat that expired in 2001?
Let me share with you what has kept me up at night lately. No judging allowed!
Welcome to my attic!
Maternity clothes, formal dresses ranging from the late 90s to now, wrapping paper, a sewing machine from before I was born, crap, crap, and more CRAP
Maternity clothes, formal dresses ranging from the late 90s to now, wrapping paper, a sewing machine from before I was born, crap, crap, and more CRAP
The truth is, we haven't done the best job of getting rid of stuff on previous moves. When we moved from Norfolk to Maryland it was literally a week after Johnny was flown home from deployment. I was working full time and we just didn't have the time to go through stuff. So we moved it, to a home with much storage space and a huge garage. Out of sight, out of mind.
When we moved from Maryland back to Norfolk, I had just delivered Connor. He was an itsy bitsy baby and the last thing on my mind when I was 9 months pregnant or when I had a brand new baby was paring through Abercrombie jeans circa 1996 and gift bags that I had thriftily saved and hoped to reuse from Christmas 2004.
So here we stand. No excuse of deployment. No excuse of newborn. Just a gigantic walk-up attic full of crap.
The military has a weight allowance for moving, but he is officially being promoted on December 1st which raises our crap allowance to 14,500 pounds. He is "confident" we won't exceed that. But still. Who the heck needs 14,500 pounds of stuff? I'm embarrassed to think we will even come close to that honestly.
So last weekend I spent hours in our spare bedroom going through clothes, organizing, donating, throwing away, and putting together a huge hand-me-down box for my best friend who is due next month. I am bound and determined not to move halfway across the country with a bunch of stuff we will never use and don't need. Sadly, that picture of our attic was taken this morning, so I obviously didn't make much of a dent. But I'll get there.
If you are reading this and have any spectacular moving tips, I'm all ears! I want to use this move as an excuse to lose some weight, get rid of stuff, and start fresh in our new home. In my ideal world, nothing we bring with us should go straight back into the attic for our entire tour. Help!
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Keep Your Eyes Open
When I look out on the horizon I see boxes. Road maps, unfamiliar places, new people.
Stress.
Missed holidays, missed locations, missed teachers, missed friends, missed everyday comforts, sounds, and sights. The little things.
I see this map and get a pit in my stomach.
Stress.
Missed holidays, missed locations, missed teachers, missed friends, missed everyday comforts, sounds, and sights. The little things.
I see this map and get a pit in my stomach.
That looks really far away to me. It is in a foreign place. I know that the term "flyover states" offends some and I can see why. But for me, that has been what they are. I have never ventured into this land-locked part of the country and while I know that this new adventure will be great, my nerves are starting to wake up and psych me out.
I'm trying to lighten up. You know how sometimes when you are driving, or sitting in a coffee shop (or whatever), and a song comes on and speaks to you? Seems to pull you out of your driving daze and make you really think? That happened to me today. And even though I have heard this song a hundred times (thanks for the variety, XM!) it just sat differently this morning. Here is one verse:
If you could soldier on
Headstrong into the storm
I’ll be here waiting on the other side
Don’t look back
The road is long
The first days of the war are gone
Take back your former throne and turn the tide
Headstrong into the storm
I’ll be here waiting on the other side
Don’t look back
The road is long
The first days of the war are gone
Take back your former throne and turn the tide
‘Cause if you never leave home, never let go
You’ll never make it to the great unknown till you
Keep your eyes open, my love
So tell me you’re strong, tell me you see
I need to hear it, will you promise me to
Keep your eyes open, my love
You’ll never make it to the great unknown till you
Keep your eyes open, my love
So tell me you’re strong, tell me you see
I need to hear it, will you promise me to
Keep your eyes open, my love
~Needtobreathe "Keep Your Eyes Open"
Deep down, I know that I have one life to live. One chance to see this big wide world and meet as many people as I can. I know that being able to move and see new things can be a wonderful blessing. I know my kids will be okay. That we will find a great new community and make happy memories in Kansas. And wherever else the Navy sends us, Amen.
I am trying to remember that. Really, I am.
If you are interested in the whole song you can see the video here:
Monday, September 10, 2012
Kate's First Day
Walking Kate to preschool this morning was amazing. Mother nature seems to have realized it's September and the temperature was perfect. 75 degrees, no humidity, a crisp breeze, and bright sunlight. Kate was excited and eager to head to "her school". A familiar, happy, wonderful place that our entire family has grown to love since moving here.
Last year I was a ball of nerves - John was deployed, Connor was still a baby who napped right through when Kate was supposed to arrive, and I was a frazzled nightmare on her first day. What saved me was our amazing cleaning lady who was okay with me leaving Connor napping in his crib while she worked so I could take Kate to school and snap a few pictures.
This year I had John holding my hand as we walked both kids across the neighborhood. We even had Kate's godfather with us who was in town for his MBA graduation from William & Mary (congrats, Pete!). After we dropped Kate off with her little friends from last year, we walked to a diner that we love and had a delicious breakfast. I seriously cannot stress the difference between this year and last year. If I can spin deployment in a positive light, it is that you truly learn to appreciate things when they are "just right"; not just complain about them when they aren't.
Kate was a happy girl this morning
"I want to play with puzzles, toys, and play with the big kids."
Last year I was a ball of nerves - John was deployed, Connor was still a baby who napped right through when Kate was supposed to arrive, and I was a frazzled nightmare on her first day. What saved me was our amazing cleaning lady who was okay with me leaving Connor napping in his crib while she worked so I could take Kate to school and snap a few pictures.
This year I had John holding my hand as we walked both kids across the neighborhood. We even had Kate's godfather with us who was in town for his MBA graduation from William & Mary (congrats, Pete!). After we dropped Kate off with her little friends from last year, we walked to a diner that we love and had a delicious breakfast. I seriously cannot stress the difference between this year and last year. If I can spin deployment in a positive light, it is that you truly learn to appreciate things when they are "just right"; not just complain about them when they aren't.
Kate was a happy girl this morning
Kate, 3 years old, first day of school 2012
For fun, I decided to put together a little interview to give her. Hopefully I can remember to ask her these same questions every year on the first day of school. Next year I can ask Connor too!
****
Interview with Kate, 9/10/12, First Day of 3 year old Preschool
What is your favorite thing about school?
"I like Ms. Christie (her teacher). She has different puzzles in her class."
What do you want to be when you grow up?
"I want to be a big girl."
Who is your best friend?
"Abby, Liam, Luke and Ms. Christie"
What is your favorite animal?
"A pig."
What is your favorite color?
"Pink."
What is your favorite book?
Brown Bear Brown Bear, What Do You See?
What is your favorite TV show or movie?
"My Little Ponies"
Name something you really like.
"I like pink ice cream with color sprinkles. I also like your toes when they are pink and pretty."
Name something you really don't like.
"I don't like messy rooms."
What is your favorite thing about Connor?
"Connor is my best friend. I like that he jumps on the couch with me. We jump up high into the fan."
What is one thing you really want to do at school this year?
"I want to play with puzzles, toys, and play with the big kids."
****
Sunday, September 2, 2012
HR Bucket List #1 - Check!
Jockey's Ridge, Nags Head, North Carolina
John, Connor, and Kate on an adventure hike in Jockey's Ridge
Yesterday we took a day trip to Jockey's Ridge State Park in Nags Head, North Carolina. One of the cool things about Norfolk is the ease of travel to the Outer Banks. For those not familiar with the east coast shoreline, the Outer Banks (OBX) is a strand of barrier islands off the coast of Southeastern Virginia and North Carolina.
OBX tends to be a low key, scenic, and family friendly vacation destination for people who aren't dying for the "spoon fed fun" boardwalk feel and who don't mind the threat of hurricane evacuations. John and I have vacationed in OBX a few times with family, once when Kate was less than two months old.
Kate at 6 weeks old chillin' on an OBX beach
(aka *sniff sniff* when did she become a little girl?!)
Sadly, we haven't explored it very much since we moved back to Hampton Roads in February of 2011. I wanted to make sure we got down there one more time as a family before we move inland.
Jockey's Ridge is a constantly shifting landmark and is the tallest natural sand dune area on the east coast. It is also a huge hang gliding location and has it's own school for people who want to learn the sport. Admission is free and hang gliding permits are also free.
We spent the afternoon wading in the warm pools of water
Connor and Kate who were like,
"I know mom didn't pack a change of clothes so let's get as wet as humanly possible."
They both earned themselves touristy OBX t-shirts for the drive home.
and exploring the (hot hot hot!) sand dunes
The tallest dunes are 100 feet tall and the sand can be up to 30 degrees warmer than the outside temperature. On a 95 degree day, it is enough to burn your feet. I personally wasn't prepared for that so I highly recommend the right footwear if you visit the dunes in the summer time.
After a few hours we were all wet, tired, hot, and ready to go home. Within minutes of getting in the car Connor was asleep and stayed that way for the entire ride home.
Connor snoozing in his aforementioned OBX t-shirt
I highly recommend Jockey's Ridge for a day trip from Hampton Roads. The car ride is 90 minutes to 2 hours from most points in the area. We didn't hit any traffic even though it is Labor Day Weekend so I think it is safe to say you will be fine in that regard. Just pack a change of clothes, sturdy shoes, and sun protection.
Happy Labor Day! Welcome fall!
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Hi, I'm Jill!
Extrovert. Mom of two. Wife of a cute Naval Aviator. Lover of wine. When I'm not chasing my two kids around town you will find me writing, taking too many photos, and researching the ten future areas the Navy could potentially (but probably won't) PCS us. We are fish out of water, landlocked at 7,000 feet. For now.
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