Not a Whole Lot to Say

I don't have a whole lot to say this morning, but I realized that I hadn't posted any pictures of our little one bedroom apartment.

From the outside.

The couch/futon where the girls sleep. Notice the fans? We don't have air conditioning, so I begin each day with throwing every window open and end each day closing them (stifling us) and locking them tight (but keeping us safe).

The study/dining room.

The kitchen, where only two of the oven eyes work, and I've had to use some major creativity to cook our meals with the appliances/utensils I have.

I didn't take a picture of the bedroom or bathroom, but I will say that this is the first time since college that I've been able to vacuum my entire living space without having to replug the vacuum once. Whole house in one fell swoop.

I am really liking Seattle. I like the weather (It hasn't rained once, and I've decided the grey mornings are much too English for me not to like them :)). I like the endless possibilities of restaurants and museums and parks just waiting for discovery. I love the water and the mountains. I love that there are endless hiking trails just outside the city...now if I could just figure out how we're supposed to hike them with Pace and Mary Aplin? :)

I don't like the "big city" feeling. Meaning, I don't ever feel like I move or think fast enough for the people bustling around me. I don't like that I have only seen Jeremiah (awake) for about an hour and a half since he started work on Monday. After all that together time, the separation has been especially hard.

I don't like that Pace saw a clip from Shark Week (on the Discovery Channel), and it has pushed her over the "I'm having a hard time dealing with all these adjustments" edge. She was being brought to tears over little things before the Shark Week experience, but now the tears have become meltdowns and her fear of being left alone (especially at night when we are all trying to sleep) has become--manic. Last night, I found myself losing patience (not for the first time), when it hit me that it wasn't really the sharks at all. They are just a good excuse. She's acting precisely as I did for the three months BEFORE we left Birmingham...Do y'all remember me crying over the baby giraffes at the zoo and saying goodbye to my OBGYN's nurse?! Pace is not the only one losing it over the little things :), she's just come around to the mourning a little later than her mother. Yesterday, when I was chiding her over the "stomach ache" she urgently developed when I tried to put her down for a nap, she stated, through choked tears, "I'm just having some hard times right now, Ok?!" Where do you think she heard that?...probably shouldn't have laughed at her drama.

As far as sticking out like a sore thumb goes...we still are. Thanks for all the sweet encouragement from the "Sundress" post! I think I've pin-pointed the insecurity, and it's helped me to cope. I asked myself, "Why does it bother you so much for people to know you are Southern? Why would you stop trying to say "y'all" and try so hard to blend in? You are proud to be from the South...right?"

What I found was this: I am proud to be from the South. However, I feel like there's a stereotype that comes with a Southern accent. A stereotype that was only heightened by my sundresses. I was worried they thought I was stupid--ditsy. Floating around in my little sundress confused about the world at large, how it worked, and probably just dumb in general. That was the insecurity with the random people at the grocery store and other chance encounters. On a deeper level, what I've found as I've tried to make a real friend or two, is not so much that they think I'm dumb, but...uncultured. At least that's my unjustified fear. I assume people think that, since I'm from the South (or maybe a small-town in general) that I don't know anything about art or music...or have good taste on the whole.

Recognizing the source of my discomfort, has diminished it greatly. If they do think I'm stupid because I talk slow and squinch my words together, it's them who's wrong. Who cares? If they think I'm ditsy because I wear sundresses, so what?! If they think I'm uncultured and have bad taste...they may be exactly right! That's part of why I'm here, right? To expand my horizons. Experience something new! Remain me, while being open to growth, change. I know my Dad's scared right now ;) Don't worry, I promise to continue bathing regularly and remain un-tattooed and un-pierced. Off to start the day and say y'all with reckless abandon!