I think she is telling me to turn tail and get my Yankee ass back north where it belongs. Another category 4-5 hurricane is heading right at Florida. This time, the weather maps are projecting landfall just about at my front door. If I have a front door. We close on our house next Wednesday weather permitting. Wouldn't that be ironic if I lost my house before I ever even really had it. If you are the praying type, pray for all of us here in Florida. Turn east Frances, turn east.

Poor M, no A original song for him.

Overheard on the way to bed tonight -

M: "A, could you sing a song for dada?"
A: "Yes! OLD MCDONALD HAD A FARM, EIEIO...."

Your son, terrible two that he is, composes a song in your honor.

Go to sleep my little mama
Go to sleep my little mama
Go to sleep my little mama
Close your eyes
Go to sleep
When you wake up
I be here
Go to sleep my little mama

I cried. Of course I cried. He's never called me "my little mama" before. He's never composed a song before. And the song was so tender, and he was snuggling me, and I felt like the most loved person in the world.

This will be the memory that gets me through his teenage years.

She looks at him with longing, unconcealed desire in her eyes. She wants to reach out, caress his face, feel the smooth creaminess of his skin. She can't stop herself, a finger escapes, runs itself down the curve of his cheek. He stirs, smiles to humor her. She is remembering the last time she held such sweet skin, smelled such a sweet smell, her eyes close in remembered bliss. Her eyes open, the desire replaced by sorrow and regret. Her arms ache to hold him. But he is not the one she really wants, she wants to turn back time, she wants her own baby back in her arms. She raises her eyes to mine and tells me, "Cherish your boys. Your beautiful boys. Before you know it they will be grown and gone."

Welcome to Florida, the land of grandmas. I can't go anywhere without some version of the above playing itself out. I try to remember this when I am jonesing for some free time, some space, some room to breathe. As I'm planning my escape from A's sweaty nighttime snuggle, trying to detach O from the boob without waking him. As I am looking forward to the silence and solitude of naptime. Kids don't just grow up, they grow away. I need to remember this because I know in just a few short years, A is not going to want to snuggle me, not for a million dollars. It's so hard to keep this perspective when confronted with the whiny, clinging, demanding, rude, bossy, spoiled, temper tantrum throwing toddler.

I know that soon enough, I'll be the one filled with longing for those sweet, sweaty snuggles, those sweet milky sighs, the soft newborn skin. God help me, I may even miss the attitude.

Making friends is hard. Meeting people, that is easy. It's the making the friend connection that is so hard. Not just casual friends, but that soul-friend who is going to really get you, understand what you mean, how you are feeling. The one you are instantly at home with, the one you could chat with for hours about absolutely nothing or absolutely everything.

I've been fortunate to have such friends at various times in my life. Tammi and Becky I feel like I have known since birth, we grew up together. My college roommates - intense bonding in such close quarters and life forming experiences. Carrie, my post-college roommate and best friend, early 20's both single, we had a blast living in DC. Linnie, my best mama friend, the one I can confess my worst mama moments too and know she doesn't judge me and actually understands. And of course my great online and blogging friends who give me support from all over the world.

I miss them all and am seeking a soul Florida friend. I am hopeful. But this is the land o'freaks. I think I met the Flylady the other day. We were chatting about how hard it is to get out of the house. I thought she meant getting the kids dressed, organized, out the door. No, she meant because she is obsessed with cleaning her house and doing laundry. Um, thanks for playing, but no, you are not soul-friend material.

The search continues.

Most of you know, I desperately wanted a daughter. I still have daughter pangs and it tempts me to try again for baby #3 - not now, but at some point. But despite some pangs now and again, I would not trade O for anything. Or anyone. He brings something so special to my life, to our family. His bright eyes, the way his whole face lights up and his whole body goes into action when he sees me, his beautiful dark charcoal blue eyes. The way he coos at the birds.

He was meant to be my son.

Sometimes I wonder if I am overcompensating, some subconscious guilt about the tears of mixed happiness and regret I shed when I found out I was having another boy. Because that's how I thought of him, another boy. But in 12 short weeks he has proven to me that he is so not "just another boy." He is nothing like his brother. He is his own person. A strong, fierce individual. Things I thought I knew about parenting have been turned upside down and I had to learn some things all over again.

My heart grew exponentially to encompass all the love I have for this child. It grew bigger, wider than I ever thought possible.

My son's eyelashes are so long they curl up and touch his eyebrows. I can't stop staring at them.

At least the bargain hunting is good! Today I scored 2 Ann Taylor skirts for me and a Discovery Store explorer backpack loaded with cool bug hunting stuff for A for a mere $4.12 total at the church thrift store.

Not bad, not bad at all. Not as good as BG's $4 headboard, but I am hopeful such good home finds are out there for me as well. Just need to move into the house first!

So Oprah is going to jury duty. Her annual income breaks down to over $500,000 a day. A day. Let me say this again, a day. I am floored.

O: [crying]
A: It's OK O-ee, it's OK, I'm here.

O: [crying]
A: Rock-a-bye baby in the treetops.... (sung at the top of his lungs)

O: [crying]
A: What is it O-ee? What is it now?

O: A-goo, a-woooo
A: What O-ee? What? Use your words, not babytalk.

Me: A, do you have to use the potty?
A: Yes, I'll make pee, poopies and boofers (gas). That's all I make.

Go I.

Thanks for the welcome to Florida Charley. For the reminder that nothing is a given. That one minute you can be decorating and planning your home and the next minute have no roof over your head, no walls to shield you from the wind, nowhere to call home.

I feel guilty being thankful that the east coast was spared because it means someone else had to suffer. I know that that could have easily been us, and perhaps next time it will. It's unfathomable, but I know it's possible. When I was watching the news and they said that anything under 50 lbs that was not secured was airborne, I immediately thought of my boys. Can.not.even.imagine.

I am missing snowstorms, they are predictable, they are fun, romantic even. Can't say the same for this southern version, these hurricanes.

I got it from Veeg and you can get it here

Pick your birth month and cross (strike) out what doesn't apply to you. To strike out you use the S tag. So for the cross out you would surround the "strike out" with strike out. Then post the whole list for the next person or link back to here.

NOVEMBER:Has a lot of ideas. Difficult to fathom. Thinks forward. Unique and brilliant. Extraordinary ideas. Sharp thinking. Fine and strong clairvoyance. Can become good doctors. Dynamic in personality. Secretive. Inquisitive. Knows how to dig secrets. Always thinking. Less talkative but amiable. Brave and generous. Patient. Stubborn and hard-hearted. If there is a will, there is a way. Determined. Never give up. Hardly becomes angry unless provoked. Loves to be alone. Thinks differently from others. Sharp-minded. Motivates oneself. Does not appreciates praises. High-spirited. Well-built and tough. Deep love and emotions. Romantic. Uncertain in relationships. Homely. Hardworking. High abilities. Trustworthy. Honest and keeps secrets. Not able to control emotions. Unpredictable.

simultaneously watching Love Actually, eating Ben & Jerry's Oatmeal Cookie ice cream, holding my sweet sleeping baby boy, snuggling up against my husband, and knowing my toddler is peacefully sleeping in the other room.

Life just doesn't get much better than that.

Since I still have moving on the mind but am determined to quit waxing sentimental over it. In 31 short years, I have lived at the following places:

NJ:
unknown street name

PA:
unknown street name
Butternut Drive
Faxon Parkway
Country Club Drive

MA:
Haskell Hall
South Hall
Hodgdon Hall
Hillside
Emery Street
Commonwealth Avenue

DC:
39th Street NW
29th Street NW

MA:
Hanshaw Road
Powderhouse Boulevard

NY:
Warren Road

FL:
not posting for fear of jinxing house closing!

17 moves in 31 years.

That people's tolerance for rambunctious toddlers and fussy babies in a library is really, really low. And so is mine.

That grabbing a toddler's arm does not stop him from doing the offending action, it just makes him scream "Stop it mama, you are hurting me!" As if I needed that extra bit of attention drawn to us.

That if you roll down all the windows and play the radio really loud it just about drowns out the sound of screaming baby and whining toddler.

That even if toddler boy agrees that we don't need 2 Bob the Builder videos from the library, when you return home he will still ask you where the other video is. And then he will cry for 30 minutes about how special that video is to him and how he needs it, and why why can't we go back and get it.

I am so having a glass of wine with dinner tonight. And ice cream for dessert.

The windows are down, the sunroof open. A warm breeze runs through the car. I am cruising at 60 mph down a windy 2-lane highway somewhere in central New York. My beautiful boys are asleep in the rearview mirror. My heart is full. The Cowboy Junkies are crooning in the CD player and I am belting my heart out with them, trying hard to fight back the tears. I'm soaking in the landscape, the mountains, the farms, the trees. The intense green, the patchwork quilt of the fields. And the Lake. Good heaven I will miss the Lake.

I'm driving away.

I'm leaving behind many good friends, many good memories, I'm closing a chapter of my life and part of me wishes it could have gone on forever. But life is constantly changing, so another adventure begins. Part of me is looking back, part of me is looking forward and I am feeling pretty torn up about it all.

Hardest still is saying goodbye to my family. Of course it's not goodbye, they are my family. I will see them. But not as often, not nearly as often. I'm swapping a 2 hour drive for a 2+ hour flight - a big difference with two babies in tow. It was such a blessing to be able to drive to my mom's when life with toddler got to be too much to bear. I love how close my mom and A are so close and I am so sad for them both to be so far apart now. I hope that distance doesn't erode that closeness. Saying goodbye to my grandparents is equally as hard. I want to pack everyone up and take them with me - shouldn't they be moving to Florida instead of me?

And so the adventure begins. A one-way train ticket to Florida. The clickety clack of the wheels. A nursing baby and an excited toddler. A husband, a partner, a friend to help me cope, who holds my hand and smiles, his way of saying I know this is hard, but it is right for our family. It will all be OK. And I believe him.

We have arrived in Florida. Oh my God is it flat. There may be nothing on earth more boring than the Florida turnpike.

But we are here, in one piece, we survived the trip with 2 year old and 2 month old and that is no small feat. We are already enjoying the heat and my ILs pool. Life is lazy and good right now, a nice hiatus from the chaos of packing and a break before the chaos of unpacking since we won't move into our own home until September.

Except for the fact that I miss my family so much it hurts, life is good.