Real Holidays

I spend hours looking at my baby in disbelief. Somehow I forgot what was like to be pregnant and the whole birth ordeal. It’s been 8 weeks since she’s been on this side of the womb, and it still feels like we’re playing house. But this is not the first time some major change in my life comes and I feel like I’m watching a movie. It always takes me a while to really believe something is actually happening, my mind is skeptical by nature so it takes some convincing before it accepts both good and bad things. I remember telling my husband that our relationship wasn’t real enough; eight years later he still asks me (joking) ‘is it real enough now?’

So, it’s taken me a while to accept that we live in Seattle. It’s been three years since we moved here, well, two – the first year was mostly spent n I5 between Portland and here — and as obnoxious made-up New Yorkers that we are, we complain endlessly about the weather, the holes in the streets, the lack of public transportation, the fleece, and mostly about how little Seattlelites complain about Seattle, a highly suspicious behavior in our book. We spent many days discussing where would we move next. But here we are, we survived a couple of tough economic years on one salary and bought our first home; we both are doing incredibly well in our careers and we are finally blessed with a healthy, beautiful child. We see a lot more of our families and have made some really good friends that have been incredibly supportive through thick and thin. At some point I stopped reading the event section of The New Yorker and religiously started checking MyBallard.com instead. I find myself marveling at the sight of the mountains (when they are visible) and boasting about how healthy life is here.

So now when I think of moving again, I not only feel utterly unmotivated to embark on such an adventure, but I start thinking about how much  I will miss the fabulous gardens, the mountains, the clean air, the salmon and the crab, Puget Sound, the coffee and most of all, the non-complaining Seattlelites I’ve met. I think what I’m getting at is that, life here is wonderfully real.

Perhaps this is what roots actually feel like.

Happy holidays!

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