These pictures are from the week we stayed at Christine and Kirk's. We are finishing up our second week in our temporary apartment (next door to our old one). Other than the mildew and the waterbugs and the general funkiness, this place has been fine. Elio has his own little space, Amelia has her own little space, we're learning how to walk the minimalist talk (2 bowls, 2 forks, 2 towels, etc.). Plus, the light is beautiful. The other morning, as I was getting ready for work, Elio parked himself in a shaft of sunlight coming from his bedroom (which faces east). He played a little with his shadow, but he sort of just sat, feeling--enjoying--the sun on his face. Both Guy and I stopped dead in our tracks to watch, holding our breath, not wanting to break the spell. With that morning sun playing on his face, lighting up his hair and his always-lit eyes, he was so beautiful.
Today, Guy and I signed many, many papers, so that we could own a piece of paper which says that we can live in a little co-op apartment. It's been a long process. As we walked back from the apartment this afternoon, after looking at paint chips, Guy and I talked about why it took us so long to buy here. We hadn't wanted to buy here, seeing this move as temporary, the market as too volatile, too expensive, too crazy. And it is all of those things. But I think we also both feel that it's really important to own a home for Elio, that there's somehow more security in that than in renting. More permanence. A feeling of safety, perhaps more important for us at this point than for him.
He's dealt so well with bopping around from place to place these last couple of weeks. I'm sure we'll tell him stories of the apartment we brought him to from the hospital, how little it was but how tall the ceilings were, the baths he took in the kitchen sink, gazing at the row of knives, and how his aunt and uncle lived right across the hall. We may have to tell him stories of this new place as well. I don't know that we'll fit in it long enough for him to form his own memories of it.
But I hope we have lots of happy memories to tell him. Of walks taken through the park, under the cherry blossoms of the botanical garden, of rainy afternoons spent in the museum, or of summer evenings spent eating ice cream and watching the fountain outside the museum do its magical dance. He will make his first friends while we live in this apartment. He will say his first real word in this apartment.
After our signing today, I took Elio out of daycare a little early because he hasn't been feeling super great. I had a feeling he had an ear infection, which the doctor confirmed this afternoon. As we were waiting for the prescription to be filled, we went to a garden across the street from the pharmacy, which was colorful with its first blooms of daffodils, pink tulips, and spiky purple blooms. Peony bushes were starting to green out, and the grass was so lush. As we walked in, the woman manning the gate called to Elio, "Hey sportsfan!" which cracked me up. She was wearing a Yankees jacket. We sat on a bench, covered by a rose-covered trestle, so Elio could nurse. When he was done, he lay in my arms, staring at the sky, the tree above, with such a smile on his face, pointing his chubby finger up up up. Like, wow, Spring! I want some of that! I do too. This is a good time of year to move.
Today, Guy and I signed many, many papers, so that we could own a piece of paper which says that we can live in a little co-op apartment. It's been a long process. As we walked back from the apartment this afternoon, after looking at paint chips, Guy and I talked about why it took us so long to buy here. We hadn't wanted to buy here, seeing this move as temporary, the market as too volatile, too expensive, too crazy. And it is all of those things. But I think we also both feel that it's really important to own a home for Elio, that there's somehow more security in that than in renting. More permanence. A feeling of safety, perhaps more important for us at this point than for him.
He's dealt so well with bopping around from place to place these last couple of weeks. I'm sure we'll tell him stories of the apartment we brought him to from the hospital, how little it was but how tall the ceilings were, the baths he took in the kitchen sink, gazing at the row of knives, and how his aunt and uncle lived right across the hall. We may have to tell him stories of this new place as well. I don't know that we'll fit in it long enough for him to form his own memories of it. 
But I hope we have lots of happy memories to tell him. Of walks taken through the park, under the cherry blossoms of the botanical garden, of rainy afternoons spent in the museum, or of summer evenings spent eating ice cream and watching the fountain outside the museum do its magical dance. He will make his first friends while we live in this apartment. He will say his first real word in this apartment. 
After our signing today, I took Elio out of daycare a little early because he hasn't been feeling super great. I had a feeling he had an ear infection, which the doctor confirmed this afternoon. As we were waiting for the prescription to be filled, we went to a garden across the street from the pharmacy, which was colorful with its first blooms of daffodils, pink tulips, and spiky purple blooms. Peony bushes were starting to green out, and the grass was so lush. As we walked in, the woman manning the gate called to Elio, "Hey sportsfan!" which cracked me up. She was wearing a Yankees jacket. We sat on a bench, covered by a rose-covered trestle, so Elio could nurse. When he was done, he lay in my arms, staring at the sky, the tree above, with such a smile on his face, pointing his chubby finger up up up. Like, wow, Spring! I want some of that! I do too. This is a good time of year to move.
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