Geeze Louise, Our Ship Has Finally Landed.

The kid's playroom in the making.

Yes, we arrived in the wee hours of December the 12th--so, why are you just now "landing" and why for heaven's sake are you just now posting about it all nearly a month later, you're asking? Well my dear family, friends and followers, the road to reach today, January 11, 2011, has been not without foes, follies and flabbergasts.

You see, today is the second day, and only the second day, that I feel as if my feet are on somewhat of a steady and solid earth. The minutes and hours, only as of late, are beginning to shape themselves into somewhat of a noticeable rhythm. Our incredibly delayed and somewhat dangerous flight from Los Angeles to Detroit to London, Ontario, has been somewhat of a mirror of the difficulty that we have also had "landing" here in our new town since our arrival. If we had internet during those early days and weeks, you would have caught every last slight detail chronicling the aches and pains of transition--living in a completely empty house surrounded by feet and feet of snow for 13 days--shaky and unreliable cell service as the only means of communication until last Saturday when our internet was finally connected--the inability to get forms of Canadian identification, thus internet service, thus bank accounts--the anti-laundering laws that forbid transferring funds from U.S. to Canadian accounts, or vice versa, (and the 21-day international check holds) that sent us scrambling to Port Huron, Michigan twice (once on New Years Eve) after being nearly crippled by the brain task it took to figure out how to meet all of our bi-national obligations between trips--the holidays that put a speedy stop to all of these "official" needs until the moments of merry glee finally dissipated into businesses' door signs finally reading "open"--the shock to learn that my husband's company had arranged for our car to be transported by a company that drove it, instead of freighted it, from Los Angeles to Canada--the incompetent gorillas that began unloading our house belongings (after Dean had to drive all the way to Toronto on December 22nd to clear it through customs) off of the truck at 6 p.m. on December 23rd leaving us with a fallen powerline in the driveway, a house full of boxes incorrectly placed, many belongings broken and bent, and a floor tracked with melted ice, snow and rock salt to tackle on Christmas Eve--the flat tire on New Years Eve--the flooded basement due to rapid thawing two days after Christmas. I could go on. But I won't.

Needless to say, last week was Dean's first week at his new job and coincidentally was the first week that we were finally able to figure out how to survive in our new world. And this week, as a result, is beginning to shape into a one where we are finally able to begin to enjoy this new world. We have internet, alas. We have a few favorite grocery shopping spots pinned down. We hosted friends for brunch last Saturday. Dean gets off at 5:00 p.m. e v e r y n i g h t (we are still trying to figure out what exactly that means and how to best manage all of this newly founded family time). We finally have finished painting the downstairs. Noah and I enrolled and attended our first Waldorf Mommy & Tot class today. We have a playdate scheduled in the neighborhood tomorrow and several more lined up for this week.

We are adjusting to the $10 gallons of organic milk (sold in 1-liter plastic bags), $5 gallons of gas (sold by the liter too, of course) and the 13% sales tax. There's just not much we can do about that, eh? And, for now, no more schlepping my pregnant belly in 20 layers and my unwilling toddler, in as many or more, around in the snowy splendor to sit in bank or federal building waiting lobbies. No more driving the 150 kilometers to miserable and oh so very dismal Port Huron, Michigan to visit the very nice ladies at Bank of America and waitstaff at Red Lobster (yes, we really did hit rock bottom, folks--there's just simply nowhere else to eat there, sigh.).

We are slating a new beginning that takes us back to something resembling our days pre-Milagro Ranch in Malibu. Back to Burnside Avenue in the great city of Los Angeles when Noey and I enjoyed our days together as a pair intertwined in a natural rhythm surrounded by friends, fun and all of the magical beauties that surround childhood. And back to the time when I was able to be the mommy who was lucky enough to experience it all undistracted . . . for the first time in 6 months. That is, until late May, however, when Junior(ette) arrives and throws our new world into yet another and a completely different kind of spinning whirly-twirl.

Nevertheless, hip hip hooray for lulls in the fast times of familyhood--no matter how fleeting or temporary they may be.

Noah at work with Daddy.