The only things that keeps the peace these days

are painting and ddd's (DVD's) from the library. While we've tried discussing the move with the peanut she's less than enthusiastic about conversing. Her preferred tactic is to change the subject to what Kipper ze dog has been doing on automatic replay for the last week. So we know she's a little disconcerted about things disappearing into boxes and strange people walking into the apartment at random times but there's no reasoning with a two year old.

As I said Kipper is on auto-replay and the paints and art supplies have been left out to pacify our little Mussolini.


I think it's a little unfair that as a 36 year old, I must refrain from temper tantrums and meltdowns and pack instead.

I've always thought of myself as a little isolationist. I don't make friends easily, in fact the friends I do make usually make the first move to introduce themselves. And as one of my dear mommy friends pointed out the other day, I tend to make friends so that I don't have to make others. My circle stays pretty small that way. It's amazing how roots seem to set themselves down when you aren't looking.


I'm being transplanted and my roots are cringing at the thought of getting used to new soil. I'm going to miss the mountain, the ocean and my neighborhood. I'm going to miss running into friends on the street and all the pars and playgrounds we frequent. And while I know I'll have some of these things at the new place and will be close enough to come back to see the rest any time I want to, I want to whine about it and moan and basically be a big baby about it.