We awoke yesterday morning covered in dogs and babies, feeling hung over and bleary eyed. I suppose it could have been the wine, but I think it was more due to the culmination of 11 days of travel, and the heavy fall into our own bed after two long weeks.
Even with all that was done before our arrival, still so much lay ahead of us, in terms of unpacking and adjusting to our new surroundings. I ventured out to find a Target for paper towels and garbage bags. Later, I learned that my sister had purchased them, but I did not know this at the time.
We decided to each take a kid and divide and conquer. I sluggishly got into the car with Zachary, and through squinty, sleepy eyes, sent a text to a friend asking where the nearest drive-through Starbucks was located. The response I got back was “Ha!” It seems I would have to get used to this “putting coats and boots on children” thing. She directed me to the Starbucks in the middle of town, (at which I would have to actually exit the vehicle with my son and walk inside), and assisted me with this insurmountable situation. It also must be noted that she purchased all of our coffee and breakfast. God bless good friends.
After I was properly caffeinated, I felt more equipped to face my new territory. I looked up and noticed that the middle of town might possibly the most quaint northeast village there is, directly out of a Thomas Kinkade watercolor.
However, It seems that my five years in LA completely deactivated vital northeast brain neurons, imperative for completing the tasks that lay before me. My GPS is apparently useless in New Jersey, as the creativity used to design the streets, is just as baffling to it, as it is to me. I swear it was trying to recalculate me back to the 405, where traffic seldom moves, but where you expect to drive for an hour and cover no ground.
I passed two Targets, but could turn into neither of them due to jiggity jaggity one way streets. I felt like a foreigner in a new land. People were honking, street signs were loopty looing, and after an hour, I angrily found my way home, sans paper towels and garbage bags. I called my Mom in a panic and with just a touch of melodrama, told my husband we made a mistake. I couldn’t even find the store! As he held two children in the middle of their own melt downs, he calmly, but sternly said, “Be the parent, please.” Touche.
Not much got completed yesterday.
But today, I awoke with a pep in my step and a fresh set of eyes. The stack of bills on the kitchen table were all paid, the new dryer was retrieved and hooked up, cable, phone and internet have been activated, I’ve installed fixtures and dimmers on each light switch (because overhead lighting is atrocious, and I am apparently a certified electrician), the fireplace has been inspected, a baby gate has been affixed to the top of the stairs, I have met with our new pediatrician, and have successfully pulled into the Trader Joe’s parking lot.
I think I’m gonna like it here.