How is it November already?

Autumn is my favorite time of year. The crisp air and colorful leaves make me so so happy. One reason I am so grateful to be living in Tennessee is that the autumn is awesome here. I was so sad when we left Virginia behind because I was afraid I was going to miss out on the amazing autumn scenery there, but fall here is just as amazing. Tennessee looks incredible right now. Looking out on our back deck at the view of the river (picture coming soon--I'm too tired to upload anymore right now) is stunning and one day when I feel motivated enough to retake up oil painting, I vow to paint just how it looks right now.

My favorite place in all of Knoxville is Concord Park and right now with all the fall colors, it is spectacular. Last year when we were in Knoxville for Brian's very first residency interview (if only we would have known that was the only one he had to go on, we would have saved so much money and stress), my in-laws introduced us to this awesome park near their house. In fact, here I am almost exactly one year ago . . . crazy that I was ever pregnant. And gross. That is not something I am anxious to re-experience anytime soon.
Anyway, I am not the biggest park fanatic, but put it next to the water and now we're talking. Brian and I both fell in love with this park last year and we now go almost every week at least once. It's beautiful, has great pathways for strollers and a cute playground that James is now all about--and the view, check that out. There are always tons of boats out and Brian spends a lot of time daydreaming about the future . . .

Seriously, how beautiful is this?

In other ventures, we made a last minute trip to Utah last week and James had a blast spending time with his grandparents and playing in their backyard. Unfortunately, the little pipsqueek got really sick while we were there so we didn't get to do/see as much as we wanted to in the short time we were there. But here he is enjoying the leaves before got sick:

Growing up, my mom used to take us to Wheeler Farm all the time. I hadn't been back there in at least 15-20 years (I feel so old saying that). I have so many memories there. When my dad suggested we take James there, I had forgotten the place even existed and all those memories came flooding back. Really random ones. Like the year I was 10 (maybe?), every time we had company from out of town my mom would take them to Wheeler Farm. We must have had a lot of company that year because I remember going there an awful lot. I remember thinking the place was huge and there was so much to do we could stay for hours and hours. It's funny how perspective changes as you get older. Fast forward 20 years and the place was so much smaller than I remembered and after walking around for about ten minutes, we'd had our fill and were ready to go. James will probably like it better next year when he's older (and not sick). Although, it was entertaining watching him smell farm smells for the first time. He kept wrinkling his nose and looking around all confused. Gotta love manure.

I sure love my boy. I can't believe in two weeks I'm going to have a one-year-old on my hands. I don't recall ever giving him permission to grow up so fast. Who does he think he is?

Birthday Wishes!

(Taken yesterday in Atlanta, Turner Field, Home of the Braves)

(Centennial Olympic Park, Atlanta)

Happy Birthday to my darling husband! May the last year in your 20s be your best year yet!

Flying Advice?

I'm not sure how many people actually read this blog, but I need some advice about flying with an 11 month old. Don't be shy--please comment! I know I've asked this before, but that was back when James was six months old. The kid has changed drastically in the last five months. So, anyone out there have some good ideas? (Besides drugging him; the last time we gave him Benadryl, it had the opposite effect intended. And besides a portable DVD player. We haven't graduated to luxuries like that yet.). He's a typical 11 month old: he won't sit still, he wants to walk everywhere, and the last time he fell asleep in my arms was probably on the flight five months ago, in which he fought big time when I tried to rock him to sleep. Needless to say, I'm getting quite nervous about flying with our little wiggle worm.

Specifics are helpful, too. If you think books are the best thing, what books did your kids like at this age? What toys keep them entertained for longer than five minutes? What are some specific tricks that worked to get through a long flight? Etc., etc., etc.

Thank you!

Like Father Like Son

James loves to play with Brian's tennis rackets and he chases tennis balls all around our house. Even if I put the rackets away, he still manages to find them. Last weekend after Andrea and Nicki showed up (an awesome surprise), we took him to the tennis courts (I wish I had pictures of it). I thought he'd get bored and scream after five minutes, but he loved every second of it.

Yes, the kid still loves the binkies that they give the newborns at the hospitals (we're already in the weaning process, don't worry). Although the rackets are still bigger than he is, he drags them all over the place.

James is also fascinated with teeth. Probably because he STILL doesn't have any. He pokes his fingers in our mouths and likes to feel around whenever he gets the chance.

If he shares any of my interests, they are not readily apparent. We'll work on that.

For my mom and sisters

Since my mom and sisters are constantly spoiling James with awesome outfits, I figured I better post some pictures of him in some of them so that they can see how cute he looks.

Also, in other updates, the little pipsqueek is officially 10 months old and started walking last month. He takes a lot of tumbles every day but has slowly but steadily increased his confidence and pace. I am proud of him but it also makes me kinda sad that he is already to this stage. Sigh.

Practicing his new walking skills in his new fall church shirt (still a little big):
His polo sweat suit Aunt Amy bought him when he was born--it's finally cool enough here for him to wear it, and just in time--he's already almost too tall for the pants.

His Nike sweat suit from Andrea--I swear, he looks 2-years-old in this outfit.

And, finally, he just got these winter jammies in the mail today from his grandma--just in time for cooler weather.

Stop Obama

Nearly every stop sign around our neighborhood has been slightly altered (It wasnt me! I swear they were this way when we moved in!). Normally, I would consider something like this vandalism. In this case, though, I'll just call it freedom of speech.

Home

I've been trying for awhile now to sum up my feelings on my new "home," this new place I live. I've never sat down and actually written something out, which would probably make the most sense. Instead, I just think about it. A lot. The truth is, I'm still figuring it out.

Some days I actually quite like Tennessee. Other days, I don't dislike it, per se, I just like it less. Knoxville isn't a large city. In fact, it's quite small. Some days it feels too small. The other day I was listening to Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" and the phrase "My little town blues are melting away" hit me and I let out a big sigh when I realized that maybe I had the "little town blues" and that part of the "like it less" days are a direct result of missing the bigger city life (which I know I haven't lived in awhile, but has never quite left my system). Sure, there is something charming about lesser populated areas, but I found myself missing the hustle and bustle of city life: taxi cabs honking at each other, the sounds of the horns reverberating from buildings; watching people get off the subway and make their way to work in their suits and fancy shoes, etc. That's not Knoxville. Not at all. (Although I have noticed that there is a large group of women here who dress up super fancy just to go to the grocery store. I think those are the same women who just came from a day of tennis at the local country club, which there seem to be plenty of. Now that's Knoxville. There are definitely the stereotypical country folk here, but there is also major money and I can't figure out where it comes from and how people have so much of it, but that's another story. . . )

But in the end, it's more than just big city life that I've been thinking about in trying to decipher my feelings. I'm not good at being "the new person" no matter what city I'm in. The feeling of being new and out of place doesn't sit well with me. I get stir crazy living in a new place. So every day I try and make an effort to get out of the house. Probably more for my sake than JB's. So in between morning and afternoon naps, my little boy and I go somewhere. Anywhere just to get out. And after an hour or two, when it's nap time again, I always say, "Okay, James, it's time to go home." And without fail, every time I say those words I feel a twinge of sadness and uncertainty. Home. Let's go home. Are we home? Is that what this is? Home? And that's been the hardest part for me. I think I feel the furthest from home I've ever been. A million miles away. So it only makes it harder when your sister and dearest friend come for a visit. A visit that is so refreshing and just what you needed (to be with people who truly know and get you, that connection usually missing by being in a new place). And, of course, as all good visits go, it goes by way too quickly. And so even though it feels like they just got here, the time comes to drop them off at the airport and say goodbye. And as you drive away and say the words "Okay, James, let's go home," you realize, looking through the rearview mirror, that "home" is standing on the curb waving goodbye to you. And then on the rest of the drive back to your house you cry because you are a baby and that's what babies do.