We took a couple of loads of books and a couple of bookcases to the new apartment today. I unloaded the boxes while Dom went back for a second trip, keeping an eye on Bella while I unpacked.
She was quite the handful, especially while Dom was making trips back and forth to the car and thus had to leave the back door open. Every time I looked away for a minute, she’d made a break for the door and was either out on the back porch or climbing the back staircase that leads up to the attic (to which we don’t have access). She’s a regular little Harry Houdini.
When we were leaving, Bella started to tumble as she was going down the porch steps. I made a fabulous mom-dive and caught her just before she cracked her head on the step. Unfortunately, I sustained an injury while doing so: a splinter driven up under the fingernail of my right middle finger. Ouch!
Isn’t that a form of torture outlawed under the Geneva Conventions?
The worst is I can’t figure how to get the thing out. I’ve tried tweezers and a needle, but it’s really wedged under the nail. Do you think it will work its way out on its own? Or should I seek professional medical help?
I love this post. Everything else I wrote sounded utterly dumb, so I thought I would just say it is a very sweet post.
I’ve just found your site for the first time today. I understand moving, as we had to do the same from Kentucky to Michigan. I am touched by this post. I just know you’ll embark on many new firsts in your new home. Since our move our family has grown from 2 sons to 5 sons. I wish you many happy memories.
Thanks so much, both of you.
Shelly,
Sadly we’re only going to be in our new place for a year. Next summer we’re going to have to do it all over again as my husband’s job relocates to the other side of Boston. Hopefully then we’ll be able to buy a house where we can live for a while and create many new memories.
Melanie—
We decided not to buy a house this year (money’s not quite right for it), so Baby’s first few months will be lived in our crappy, one-bedroom apartment that has driven me crazy since we moved in three years ago. But it’s still cheap.
As far as first year memories gom try being my parents. When they married, my dad still had a year to go at UD and my mom was starting grad school there. So they moved into the upstairs quad in Gregory Hall as dorm parents. Back then, UD had a Chysanthemum Ball instead of a Winter Cotillion. Mom wasn’t going to go, being seven months pregnant at the time. Well, all the Gregory girls (Gregory was not co-ed in 1972) pooled their cash and their time and made my mom a purple velevet maternity formal gown and bought my parents tickets to the ball. Later, Mom turned that gown into a Christmas tree skirt that lasted for years.
Back in ‘72, there was only one phone in the dorm, and it was right outside my parents’ door. So after my sister was born (effectively putting my mom’s masters’ degree on hold for seventeen years), her naps were constantly interrupted by the incessantly ringing dorm phone.
And yet my dad swears it was a wonderful time.
So, yeah. First home memories are always special. But at least you get stories to tell, even after moving.