381 more words about my hiatus...

...And then I'll be done and we can move on to the new stuff.

Here's the last column I wrote for the WOW, and it explains things a little more.



From the October 2011 issue

Flip Flops for Cowboy Boots


I’ve been writing this column for the WOW for the last seven years. In addition to this bit of ridiculousness, I have also had the honor of sharing my other favorite topic, reading, in the Casing the Book Shelf column. For a time, I even covered the Voting Member meetings, and yes, still lived to tell about it.

One year ago, our family got an awesome opportunity to move to Nashville. We packed up the four kids, dog, and eleven years worth of sand and salt-coated memories and made the journey to Tennessee. It hasn’t always been easy, but it has been the right move for us.

One piece of advice that I’ve tried to instill in my children as they’ve tried to shake off “the new kid” label is the wisdom of investment. Absolutely hold on to those old friends and memories, but genuinely try to invest yourself in the place you’re living. Take advantage of every opportunity while making new friends, trying new things, and becoming a native.

This hasn’t been the easiest lesson, but I think it’s an important one so I try to hammer it in anyway.

And so by example, I think that’s where I am with the amazing World of Westchase. I’ve made some wonderful friends, have had loads of fun, learned a great deal, but it’s time for me to fully invest myself in my new home.

I would like to sincerely thank everyone who has allowed me into their homes (even those who just let me sit sweating in a plastic bag in the driveway before tossing me into the recycle bin) by sharing a story or a laugh every month. It has been an honor and privilege that I won’t soon forget. I would especially like to thank Chris Barrett and Tracy Urso for giving me this opportunity and creating and maintaining such a quality publication. It really is a gift to the community.

As I’ve said, I’ve learned a lot here. Amongst my many lessons is to always have a copy of Robert’s Rules for Parliamentary Procedure handy, and that neighbors can become friends with one simple act of kindness.

And above all, don’t forget to invest yourself.

It yields the highest return.

And then there were two...

...weeks, that is. Until the blessed end of this school year.

A lot is packed into these last two weeks, but it's what's not there that is significant. No move. No new classrooms or classmates. No doctor's visits (God-willing), no surgeries, no injuries. No new uniforms, books or roads to learn. No new paths to figure out.

When I look back to the beginning of this school year it seems like years ago that we were entering a new high school; new teachers and experiences in first and fifth grades. We've packed a lot of life into these last six months, and I'm proud of my kids for giving it their all even on days that it was the hardest thing in the world to do. They are truly wonders of resilience.

I look forward to every summer, but this is one I relish most. They have earned this break and I'm looking forward to being in closer awe of them.

Suburban Diva goes country

"Are you ever going to update your blog?"

I get that a lot.

The answer is, I guess.

I've been writing this blog since 2004 when no one even knew what a blog was, including me. It sort of started as a way to journal motherhood, life--in a publicly-censored sort of way. Then it became a bulletin board to family and friends who knew me and wanted updates into what was going on. I even started to get sponsors who weren't paying me for posts, but who invested some cash and prizes for my readers.

Lately, though, it doesn't do much except attract visitors who want to know what Kenny Chesney looks like without a hat. (That's one of my top Google searches.)



You're welcome.

I'm lucky that I get to journal motherhood over on Whoa Momma a few times a week. I get to talk about my love of books in the World Of Westchase. I get to post my column there and still on my own site which I love. I keep up with people I know on Facebook and email. That leaves this blog as a very lonely bandwidth collector of late.

As blogging has evolved, so has my family. It's not always easy to write of the latest happenings in a public forum without potentially embarrassing or disclosing something that has no business being out there. I leave out 98% of real life things (shocking that I do have a filter) because that's just how it needs to be. And that's okay.

So I started really thinking of what the next step is in this blog, and I realized that the one topic I don't really have an outlet for at the moment is this move--this town--and life as a suburban mouse who goes to the country.

Which is not to make fun of Nashvillians or Tennesseans at all. That would somehow elevate Florida to a position of normalcy which is absolutely the biggest lie ever, because Florida is the capital of Crazy, USA. No, in fact, everywhere I've ever lived or visited has its own unique form of crazy and part of the challengefun is navigating through native crazy with foreign straight jackets. So I think I'll focus on this place for a while.

I think all I've really talked about our new home is the weather, which is technically crazy, but redundant after a while. (Florida, you win on that score.) And since the weather is breaking a little (still was 44 yesterday which felt like -28 when you're ready to see tulips) there is a lot more to talk about.

Like driving 10 miles to find a gas station. Or our never-ending quest to find the best BBQ. (Coincidentally also in a gas station.) Or road-kill. (On the way to the gas station.)

And even stalking country music stars.

Hat or no hat.

So meet me in Nashville for the next few weeks. I'd love to show you around.

I lied

Okay, I suck at plans.

But I have a good excuse. We just finished a week's worth of company and 10 overnight guests for Thanksgiving.

I'm not complaining--you know I love Thanksgiving and I love people around to help ease into this new life, but I won't lie--I'm zausted. And I have yet to find my groove.

But I'm trying.

We actually got a lot of the Christmas decorations up this weekend, which was a little frustrating to unpack more stuff while re-packing up some of the things I just unpacked, but what are you going to do? It's Christmas.

I'm finding that everything takes me twice as long to do. First off, I still don't know where everything is supposed to go, so picking up is a daylong chore. I have a grocery store, but I have to backtrack through the aisles because it isn't laid out the same as my Publix at home. I get lost a lot.

And the stairs are kicking my ass. Firming up my calves, but kicking my ass.

If it sounds like I'm whining, but I'm really not. I'm just still searching for that groove thing and I'm hoping it's not up or downstairs....

Two Weeks

We've officially been Nashvillians for two weeks now. It's not nearly as sinister as it sounds.

We got that first week of school in, which was a big step and a successful one, I'm happy to report. I think we can all breathe a little easier now that that's over. We still need to get into a routine, but we'll get there. Stevie is already on the hockey team and feeling well, and the little ones are meeting new friends.

On the housefront, almost all of the boxes are now unpacked, and with the exception of the garage and storage rooms in the basement, pretty much set up. Tomorrow the last of the various service people come to fix the last of the broken things. God willing. No longer planning my entire day around service calls will be a much needed reprieve. It seems like that's been the agenda since August.

And next week is another fun one to look forward to. We've got tons of family coming in for Thanksgiving, and we are dining at the governor's mansion on Tuesday. I even found a babysitter so Jessie won't be swinging from chandeliers and otherwise causing an international incident.

Because that would be a little sinister for my little Nashvillian.

Suburban/Urban/Rural Diva

It's a funny place where I live now.

The neighborhood couldn't be more suburban--we've got neighbors that show up with baked goods and an HOA. But we are also 10 miles from the city limits, and when I drive the kids to school I pass at least five sprawling horse farms on the way.

It's hilly--there are hills and valleys that I'm not used to in flat Florida. The colors are vibrant and not just various shades of green. And while nothing can compare to the beauty of the Gulf, it is definitely a pretty place to live. I miss the water in Florida, but in Florida I realize now that I missed the trees.

I'm trying to find my way here--literally and figuratively; but mostly literally. I like turning off the GPS which is so unhelpful at times, and just driving around getting the lay of the land. It doesn't help that every road is called something Pike, but we'll figure it out.

The kids started school yesterday, and they are all loving it so far. People are extremely friendly here, and with exception of things breaking and repairmen here every day, it's been a very nice week to get acclimated to Nashville life. I've got about 80% of the boxes unpacked, and hopefully by the end of the weekend, most things will be hung on the wall for all of the Thanksgiving guests to look at when they're eating their turkey.

Nashville

We are here.

It wasn't easy, and we are all exhausted and cold, but all are present and accounted for in Music City.

I can't begin this next chapter of entries without first acknowledging the fact that I have the world's greatest friends who made it particularly difficult to leave. I miss them already. But if any of them are reading this now and considering sending me a care package of oranges, please include slippers and Chapstick because I don't know if I'll die from scurvy or frostbite because it's freaking cold here!

And just so you know that I haven't changed in the last 48 hours since surrendering my Florida residency, you'll be pleased to know that I am still wearing my cheesy black flip flops as my footwear. Not so much out of protest, but because the movers seemed to have misplaced the box that all my shoes are packed in. Normally, I wouldn't mind these missing articles, but since it's 28 degrees here and I'm supposed to be attending the CMA's tomorrow night, I'm a little concerned. Dude, I seriously can't be walking the red carpet in the $2.50 Old Navy bin specials.

Other than that, things are going well. Ish.

I've discovered that I'm waking up before 6 every morning here, but then exhausted and ready for bed by 7:30. I also have learned that I hate unpacking as much as I hated packing, which doesn't bode well for the next couple of weeks.

The neighborhood is quiet, but we did have some visitors today which was encouraging. I'm still waiting for some homemade cookies or BBQ to show up on the doorstep.

The kids are doing well--they, too are confused on these things people use around here called "clothes" and "closed-toed shoes." It's going to be a tough adjustment.

But Jingle likes the weather. She seems to be particularly dog-like here, running in the backyard and molesting the native wildlife, including the dogs next door.

I hope to post some pictures of the sparkly events tomorrow night, but watch for me on tv. I'll be the one in flip flops and earmuffs.

Not long now

(Please note that I'm typing with my fingers crossed because I've grown very superstitious and weary these last few weeks, so I can't jinx anything via blogging.)

I'm about to fax the last redundant document over to the mortgage company in preparation for closing tomorrow. That's all I want to say about that until they hand us the keys.

But in other news, I wrote an informative piece for the Times and a ridiculous one for you.

Moving Sucks

So that offer probably isn't our buyer, so life goes on. Or rather life in this house goes on staged, cleaned and from a cardboard box.

Friends, I'm tired today. I'm tired from all of the stupid details that I have to attend to, the running and other ridiculously necessary things I have to do in a day.

One of those really irritating errands was a blood test this morning. This is a requirement for a new life insurance policy, because apparently State Farm has determined that if I should die, Sean will need quite a large sum of money to replace me. I'm not sure why this is, but I totally suggest getting into the rodeo clown business if you're looking for a career change because that's where there is great income potential.

Anyway, I had to fast for this test, (Because lord knows a cup of damn coffee might just throw off my body chemistry counts so hideously out of whack that modern science could not deem me insurable) so I was particularly cranky and headache-y in that hazy way when the nurse asked me to get on the scale. (For a split second, I was glad I was fasting.) It was one of those real official types--sliding weights and measures around like an abicus and so accurate you can't even take off 5 pounds by removing your shoes--but the nurse was having trouble with it.

"114, does that sound right?"

"Um, sure if we're not counting my bones, skin, and vital organs."

"Oh, sorry. I was 10 pounds off."

And you know what, I didn't even correct her that she may be a hair off from even that.

Because moving sucks and today the universe owed me at least 10 pounds.

And a damn cup of coffee.

Knock on wood

We interrupt this regularly update on our new house to give one on our current one: Houston, we have an offer.

Ok, who knows if this will lead to the eventual sale, but it is an offer and now the excruciating process of negotiating begins. At least I find it to be so.

So while I do not want to jinx it by counting all of those chickens yet, I will say out loud that I hope it is because selling this right now before entering October having to show this with four kids and a dog will save what little is left of my mind, body and soul. And to be able to move out knowing it won't be left vacant will be worth a boatload of worry cells as well.

So if this is it, I'll dig up St. Joseph and give to all of you out there with your fingers crossed.

For you, Intern

Danny warned me that since I hardly ever update anymore, I might be losing readers. Well, here you go, Intern. An update and countdown to our move.

We went to Nashville this weekend for a quick visit to check out Stevie's future hockey team as well as our new house. We put in an offer on a house that we spent a whopping 18 minutes in the first time around, because that's probably twice as long as we normally would make a life-altering decision. That's just how we roll. So this weekend I got 18 more minutes to check to see if there were blinds on the window and where the bathroom was.

Luckily, my memory was faulty, and I loved it even more now that I knew it is ours. (Almost.)

But there are a couple of things that we do need to change....



I've changed too many babies diapers to let this stand in the girls' room.



And I'd really like a working butler to work in this butler's pantry...



And unless all of the kids decide to go to LSU, these colors in the basement need to go.





But I love my new kitchen.



And upstairs loft which differs from the upstairs playroom complete with its own wetbar and ice maker.



Tomorrow (ish) I'll post pictures of the outside which is just as extreme in its awesomeness.

About that house...

It's big and beautiful, and hopefully, soon to be ours.

We have a contract on this, and right now we're on that torturous stage of inspections, mortgages, appraisals and a host of other non-fun things before we can close and move in. I realize that these things are a necessity, but I hate this part.

This house is much different than the one we're in now. I remember 10 years ago walking into this one and saying, "It'll do." We were in the neighborhood we wanted, and I was so close to giving birth to Matty, and it just felt like anything with a roof would do at that point.

This one was different.

Each of us walked in and before we'd even toured then entire thing, everyone had announced that this was the one. The neighborhood, the location, the house...it just seems to fit us right now.

It's big--but I'm ready to fill it. Besides a big family that deserves some elbow room, I want frequent guests. I want room enough for friends and family around the country to stay with us. I want to do all of the tourist things in Nashville (and there is a lot!) and I want to share that with everyone.

So come and sit a spell on our back porch, and we'll go to the Grand Ole Opry and anything else that city has to offer. It's a new adventure and I want you all to join us.

It's been kind of a busy week...

In the past seven days I've put the house on the market, traveled to Nashville where we toured two schools, 17 houses, and the downtown metropolitan area; bought number 14 of that lot, started the school transfer procedures, shown this house twice, continued with bathroom renovations and managed to get everyone to school, baseball, football and cheerleading practices. On time.

To say I'm exhausted would be fair, but I am also excited and overwhelmed.

First, this house.

It sucks to sell a house when the bathroom is still being remodeled and you have the world's hairiest dog and Jesso to cleanup after. I just walk behind them all day with a Clorox wipe and a Swiffer. Not that I have time, but I'm afraid to cook a meal because I don't want the house to smell like some of the ones we toured. Every single routine has been disrupted, and I sort of feel like I'm not really living here because everything that gave this house personality--our personality--is boxed up and sitting in the garage in order to sell it.

I get it, I'm just over it already.

And then there's the new house.

I love it. We love it. We walked in the front door, and even before we saw every room we all announced seperately that this was it. It just felt like home. immediately. It's big and beautiful and I just saw us there. I haven't felt that way in a long time.

But even that wonderful experience is stressballs because now there are offers and counter offers, mortgage shopping and gathering of documents, inspections and appraisals and all of the non-fun stuff that goes along with buying a house. I want to just skip ahead to the picking out paint swatches and eating Chinese food on cardboard boxes waiting for the movers to arrive.

But I guess that's not going to happen until we get through a few more months of Swiffering.

About that announcement...

I packed my first box today.

It was small and only contained a few children’s books, but it was the first physical acknowledgement that we will actually be moving soon.

When, exactly, I don’t know.

There is still a lot of life in Tampa to live--a house to prep and sell, semesters for three children to start and complete. And of course, we actually have to a place in Nashville to move into.

But we are excited. And sad. It’s a wonderful place here with wonderful friends and I’ve called it home for the last 10 years. Three of my children were born here. Suburban Diva surfaced. I launched a pretty fun career. I’ve met lifelong friends and learned life lessons. So while the ultimate decision to move was made easy for us by the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity before us, the actual leaving is not going to be.

So one box down, only a couple thousand more to go.