easy come, easy go

Next week we're moving to Philadelphia so that Robbie can start business school. To some of you that news is coming out of nowhere probably due to the fact that I'm still sort of in denial about it and it's hard to just casually bring up in conversation. Also, I never post anything on Facebook and it seems that's how people make big announcements these days.

I understand now why our friends who have left DC keep it on the DL for the most part until right before they leave. It's just hard to say goodbye. People come and go all the time, and I'm usually sad at first about it and then life goes on—new people move in, you make new friends, and it doesn't feel as sad anymore. But at the risk of sounding totally dramatic, it feels like the end of the world for me and I'm kind of having a hard time dealing with it! Today, for example, I was thinking about how much I like our mailman and how I'm going to miss him (even though he's seen me in my bathrobe like a dozen times in the past six months), and how it's dumb that I'm going to miss the mailman because we're just another house on the route for him but the other day he had a package for us and said "This one's for Miss Rhoda!" and I was like, the mailman knows Rhoda! And now I'm tearing up thinking about the freaking mailman and wondering if it would be weird if I told him I'm going to miss him when we leave.

We've lived here for five of our six married years. We brought our baby home here. We always knew that DC was going to be a temporary stop for us, but when it's all you know as a little family it makes it hard to leave. There's also a strong possibility that we'll be back after school is over, but even then, can you ever really go back to the life you had before? Every day I can think of a hundred annoyances about this house and this city that make me happy to leave (the biggest one being that noisy Rhoda has to sleep in our living room because she's been banished from our bedroom) and yet I can't imagine living anywhere else. I can't decide if it's helpful or not that spring has been incredible so far and I am just in awe at how beautiful it is in DC right now. I guess I'm happy that DC and I are parting on good terms. Our BFFs left in fall, which makes the pain of leaving a tiny bit easier since they abandoned us first (JK, Julie!), and still the thought of making new friends all over again is like, super stressful for me. Extrovert problems, you guys.

I have lots of other irrational thoughts swimming around in my super hectic brain (such as—will I ever find a book group as good as the Capitol Hill book group? a pediatrician as chill as Dr. Wirt? midwives as magical as the ones at GW? fun crafternoon buddies??) that are preventing me from writing a fitting farewell to this fair city, but I'm sure as moving day creeps closer the thoughts will fall into place. I just needed to get some of them out before I collapse in a pile of sad moving tears.

one-a-feets

I can't get over this picture of my niece Isla and nephew Sully. They are a match made in cousin heaven. Apparently Isla will only wear overalls or footed sleepers (what she calls "one-a-feets," which is pretty much the best name ever) and it's not uncommon for her to go out in public wearing one of her animal costumes. Sully was pretty excited about her costumes and he decided to go out to lunch with the family wearing that dog costume which has a head that looks more like a horse's head? It was pretty much the funniest thing ever and maybe you had to be there to really get the full effect but being at a Souplantation on New Year's Day with three tour buses full of people in line in front of you isn't so bad when you've got Sully in a dog costume standing with you. 

Which leads me to the thought that got me here in the first place—at what point do kids stop being so funny? I wish I kept better track of these things because I know all of my brother's and sisters' kids have been funny as little guys and now they're grown up and funny in different ways but don't you wish the dog costume phase could last just a little longer? I guess if that was the case for everyone then I'd still be meowing my nightly prayers (yes, this is a thing I did once upon a time) and it's probably better that I don't do that anymore.

norton simon

We are having the most marvelous weather in DC today, which reminded me of how marvelous the weather was during my California visit, which reminded me that I took like five pictures on my trip and also haven't posted them yet. (I also haven't posted pictures from a couple of June trips—oops. Coming soon?) So here's what I've got. 

While I was in Monrovia, my four nieces stayed at my parents' house while my sister Bonny and her husband were in New York for the weekend. I enjoy all of my sisters' and brother's children but I really like to hang out with the Bolanders because it's kinda fun to hang out with teenagers that you can ask questions about being Young Women's president and make you feel better about life in general. Also, I have nieces that are teenagers?? I wasn't even a teenager when Ara and Ella were born. That freaks me out a little bit. And Ara drives now which is also a little bit surreal.

Anyway, with a smaller group it's also easier to get out on the town and see stuff. One day we all headed to the Norton Simon in Pasadena, which I'd never seen before. I can actually count on one hand the number of museums I've visited in/near LA, which is kind of embarrassing, but better late than never to start—especially when my work credentials get me and a guest in for free pretty much everywhere. Plus, it was a beautiful day and the grounds weren't very crowded so it was easy to enjoy ourselves. The museum was cool and the gardens were lovely and I bought a cute board book for baby at the museum gift shop and I blew my dad's mind by telling him about the free museum app with an audio tour (as opposed to renting a headset for $5). Wins all around.

summer magic

I've been at my parents' house for the past week while Robbie is off gallivanting on (another) work trip and it has been heaven. I haven't been in California during summer since I got married and I had almost forgotten that there are places in the world that cool down at night during the summer. DC has apparently been a stormy, humid mess this week and meanwhile, I have been basking in 80 degree temperatures during the day and covering up with a cardigan at night. (Nah nah nah nah-nah.) I have been so uncomfortable these past few weeks and now I'm feeling pretty good about life and facing my third trimester (coming up in just a couple of weeks!!).

So, speaking of pregnancy, I had kind of a surreal pregnancy moment the other night. We went as a family to the Hollywood Bowl to picnic and see the LA Philharmonic perform—in this case it was Gustav Mahler's Resurrection symphony—which is an old family tradition that I hadn't participated in for a really long time and it was so fun to relive those memories (though, admittedly, most of my memories involve me being disappointed that there were never fireworks at the end of symphonies or ballets—I've since grown out of that [mostly]). Anyway, you know how when a movie or concert starts and the lights dim and you get that little tingle of excitement and anticipation? This time around, when the ominous strings came in and I was feeling that giddy anticipation, the baby started doing its nightly acrobatics that only got wilder when the brass and percussion made their way in. I guess it could have been that time of night where this is a common occurrence (i.e., bedtime—are you preparing me for many more hard nights, baby?), or because the music was loud, or just because the baby felt like moving? Who knows. But I kept thinking, this is definitely my baby. Not because of the inability to sit still at inopportune moments (that's part of it too) but that I felt like the baby and I seemed to be feeling the same thing at the same moment. Could the baby feel my heart race? Could the baby tell that the music was sparking emotions within me? Does the baby love music too? Are our hearts and minds somehow connected already? When I am lying in bed at night feeling the baby move, does it know that I am mentally trying to will him or her to give me a little reassuring kick? (If there are facts disputing these theories, please allow me to continue to live in ignorance.)

I know that some of the criticism about not finding out the sex of your baby is that you can't relate as much to your baby before he or she is born, and admittedly, I feel that way sometimes. But on Tuesday I felt like the baby and I were finally having a moment together, just like I have moments experiencing something beautiful and I feel like I'm the only one in the room. It made me finally feel, 25 weeks later, how real this experience is and how much I need to seek out these moments in my final weeks of pregnancy. 

Now that you've suffered through my emotionally charged crazy musings, here's part of the 5th movement of the symphony for you to enjoy, if you so desire (it REALLY gets going just after the 10 minute mark and brings on the tears for me every time, especially when you see the conductor singing along). Apparently Mahler was an atheist, but darn it if he couldn't write an account of the resurrection to bring even the most cynical atheist to tears. (You can read the full text of the symphony here.)

Die shall I in order to live.

Rise again, yes, rise again,

Will you, my heart, in an instant!

That for which you suffered,

To God will it lead you!

warm thoughts

When I had a hard time dragging myself out of bed this morning (and yesterday morning, and many mornings before that), I finally admitted to myself that maybe, just maybe I have a hard time with winter. Have I ever had the winter blues before? Probably. It's just hitting me a little harder this year. I had to remind myself this morning that I don't typically have to lay in bed for 40 minutes before I muster up the courage to put my bare feet on our cold tile floor and face the biting cold outside—and this has been a mild winter so far! Sigh. First world problems.

How about some leftover pictures from the holidays in California to remind us of better times, when it was 90 degrees in December and you didn't need to wear a jacket in the morning?

1, 2. watching the horses warm up at the race track // 3, 4. Newport Beach (yes, we went to the BEACH in DECEMBER and it was WARM and I almost DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN)

And. Since we're talking about Monrovia... might I make a recommendation? In case you are in the mood for a delicious sandwich whipped up for you by some really friendly, tatted up bikers who have decorated their store with a variety of cute salt and pepper shaker sets and make a mean ranch dressing?

Well then, I know just the place for you—The Market Grill in Monrovia, California, which is conveniently located across the street from my brother's house (where we spent a lot of time over the break). I want to marry that ranch dressing.

Freak, now I'm cold AND hungry.

it's a beautiful life

Thank you everyone for your really kind emails and comments after last week's post about baby Jonah. I am the type of person that wants to bare my soul to everyone (if that wasn't obvious already), and I had, for probably the first time in my life, been hesitant to talk about something so very personal. It was a real relief to be able to share this very special experience with everyone and to hear your encouraging words and your own stories of loss. Really, thank you so much. I know that everyone's sentiments have meant a lot to Harry and Dawn and the rest of our family these past few weeks.

My trip home was busy and family-filled. It's hard to find a time of year in southern California that isn't beautiful, but October is pretty amazing. We spent time at my sister's house by the beach, played in the park across from my brother's house, and just spent lots of really quality time with my family. One highlight was playing with my niece Isla and her Playmobil set. I did not know that I was a Playmobil gal till last week, but please bless that my kids are as into it as I am.

Can I just relish in my beautiful family for a minute? I miss them a lot—especially today.

I won't have too long to miss California though—I'm going back Friday! Can't get enough of that golden state.

The end of the party

Some final pictures from the break.

The girls spent the majority of the break playing "The Michael Jackson Experience" on the Wii. If you haven't played yet, well... you're missing out. You can YouTube clips of most of the songs, but I'd recommend starting with "Remember the Time." I can't not laugh whenever I hear it now. Please note the giant pinata hanging behind us. We keep it classy.

My sister Bonny and her girls.

I can't decide what to call the next series of photos: "Cracked Out," "Dad Really Fell Asleep Behind The Christmas Tree," or "Is It Midnight Yet?":

(please don't kill me for posting those pictures... they were so funny at the time!)

The lovely Terrill sistren and our personalized rolling pins. 

Post-party remnants.

 

We had early breakfast (10 am is early, right?) at Clocker's Corner at the race track, a fun tradition.

 Robbie making buddies with a snooty race track dog. Homeboy was wearing a tiny jacket and scurried over to us and jumped in that carriage like he owned the place. The nerve.

Agnes and her morning fix. This picture makes me laugh out loud.

Sunglasses hiding the bags under my eyes.

Robbie and his shadow, Calvin.

Robbie and I went to visit my grandma the night before she went in for surgery. That woman never ceases to amuse me. We are lucky to have two very awesome grandmas in our family.

Robbie and I went to Christy's for round two of donuts. Christy's holds a special place in my heart because it's right next to our church building and we'd get donuts from there every Friday morning for seminary. And they're really as good as I remember them!! Fun fact: my friend Kim informed me that there are more donut shops per capita in LA than anywhere else (and most of them are family-owned). Take that, Dunkin' and Krispy Kreme. 

Robbie and I walked through Monrovia when we were carless. It was kind of overcast out but I kind of loved seeing the foothills in their cloudy glory.

And of course, a trip to Monrovia meant a trip to Melanie, my BFF who got off her mission in MARCH but I still hadn't seen her until this break. We also go to hang out with our friend (and Robbie's old coworker) Jon, who just finished classes at Le Cordon Bleu. He makes beautiful desserts!

I really love California and being with my family, but it was also great to come home after such a nice long trip. I just wish we could all live in the same place!

Monrovia miscellany

Looking back on that post I wrote last night, I'm feeling bad about how negative it sounds. That will teach me to write posts late at night when I'm Sleepy McGee. Fortunately, I have the weekend to recuperate and prepare for my first class on Monday. I will conquer 2011, even though it tried to reject me at first.

Here are some other fun things that happened in California.

The annual Terrill family Christmas party, in which the wise men bring gifts of gold macaroni to baby Jesus.

A Metro trip to Union Station (which cannot be adequately captured on the Canon Elf), and we witness Isla's love for Robbie (it was also clear that all the little geels love Robbie).

A trek from Union Station to Olvera Street, where the sun was shining bright and the taquitos were as abundant as manna.

We took the first of two pilgrimages to Christy's Donuts (yes, Phoebe, we went another time).

David challenged Henry and Eve to hold their arms in this position for 45 minutes. Phoebe and I left before the end but I think they both made it. This type of activity is more common in the Terrill home when we run out of energy to go anywhere.