First day on the job

Today is the hub's official first day of work at camp. Crazy. I never thought I'd be living in Saranac Lake married to a Landscape Supervisor but here I am.

Our first (very windy) Easter in the ADK's.

So far? It feels pretty good. We've never lived the lifestyle where I hand my husband a packed lunch, give him a kiss on the cheek and let Abilene wave "bye-bye" to Daddy as he drives away at 7:30 in the morning but, this morning, we did. And later, we'll welcome him back with a tidy (I hope) home and dinner on the table. Where's my apron? Because I feel like I should be wearing one right now. I should probably be putting a pie out on the windowsill to cool too. Better get on that.

I took Abilene to her one-year check-up today by. my. self. (gasp!) It probably sounds silly but I've never done that before. Brad's field staff schedule was so night-heavy that he was able to be at all Abilene's appointments. I'm actually going to have to find a babysitter for Baby #2's next prenatal appointment. Very strange. Welcome to normal, Brooke.

This "normal" thing is sorta nice though. The hubs and I had a successful "weekend" on Monday and Tuesday where we actually ate meals that weren't rushed, took walks with Abilene past houses we'll never be able to afford (love those kinds of walks :) ), spent time with friends that didn't involve talking about work, and snuck in a few episodes of White Collar on the computer. I'm kinda liking "normal."

Brad and I have always loved the Adirondacks. I still have to remind myself that this is where we live now, just not where we'll be for a couple weeks. I smile every time I have to tell myself that. I kind of feel like we're in a commercial about saving for retirement where there's a well-dressed, older gentleman walking barefoot along the beach. He's usually talking about how you need to plan wisely so you can live where you want to and do what you want to in the future while he casually tosses a piece of driftwood to his golden retriever. And everyone looks longingly at the television, imagining the day that, they too, will be able to retire on the beach. You know the commercials I'm talking about.

Being here kind of feels like that commercial, except we didn't wait until we were 60 to move to the place we love and we're in the mountains, not at the beach. And, considering it's highly unlikely that Brad and I will ever really retire, what better timing to move to the place you'd want to retire to than now?

I know life's going to get pretty crazy over the next couple weeks. I'm braced for it. But there's no better place for life to get crazy than in a place you want to be, right? So, raise your glasses. Here's to learning a new "normal."

-John Muir