First Impressions

It’s 4:15am and Theo and I are hanging out in the lobby of the Hyatt Regency, taxi’s lined up outside in the dark, hotel workers waiting for their day to start. Yesterday was a long, long day. The kids did pretty amazing though. Matt and I were more at our wits end than they seemed to be. They slept when they could, ate whenever we shoved food in their face to occupy them, and of course Theo pooped as soon as we got in the air on our second leg. When we actually arrived in Vancouver, we still had about an hour and a half of lines and immigration issues to sort out. For some reason I wasn’t thinking about this, so as soon as we landed I was thinking we’re home free. But still, the kids did great on that part too since they could at least run and crawl around while we waited. They both passed out in the taxi on the way to the hotel, and even transferred into the lobby still asleep. I wish I could’ve gotten a picture of Evelyn; matt had just lifted her entire, upright carseat out of the taxi and stuck her in the lobby, and there she sat, sitting up straight, head drooped over, fast asleep, as the lobby buzzed with workers, model UN students here for a conference, and a myriad of other interesting looking people. Maybe it’s because this is all so new and exciting to me, but everyone, and everything, does look interesting.

Then again, maybe not.

Our taxi driver, who has lived here for 10 years, said this city is the best place to live. He said it’s beautiful and multicultural. The man who delivered our bags to our room, who has lived here all his life, said the same thing. He stopped what he was doing to show me, from our floor to ceiling window showcasing the city, all the different things I would need to check out and explore. And there are a lot. They are not the first people to tell me that Vancouver is a wonderful place to live. But hearing it from longtime residents of the city made it more validated I guess, and having been here for less than 24 hours, I can see what they mean.

Some of my first impressions of this city…

1. Not only is Vancouver beautiful, it’s incredibly vibrant. It’s so alive and teeming with an energy I can’t really explain. But it’s a very good energy, that much I can say.

2. Everyone has been so friendly. This was something I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t expecting unfriendliness, but people go out of there way to say hello to me. I’ve had several extended conversations with complete strangers. I quite enjoy it, but I just don’t feel like that happens very often back home.

3. Something I was expecting but wasn’t excited about: prices! Everything does seem to be more expensive here. Matt and Evelyn went out yesterday about 5 (I think?) to get some pizza. She had been asking for pizza all day, and I had been promising it to her, so off they went. I didn’t know they’d come back with cheese and dough worth $30 apparently. They also came back with a new hat and 2 umbrellas.

4. Which leads me to another first impression: everyone carries umbrellas around here! It was fun to drive into the city and observe all the different patterns and colors that people carried. Another fashion accessory to play with:)

5. I need to make sure to hold onto my change because dollar and even 2 dollar coins exist here. No more throwing it into the change jar!

Not very many first impressions but it’s what my tired brain can think of right at the moment. It’s now 6:14am and Theo is fighting sleep as I push him in the stroller while taking breaks to type. I imagine he will crash again just as Evelyn and Matt are waking refreshed. Which is perfect since we are all in one hotel room. Theo slept in the bathroom in his carseat last night! It’s an inconvenience, but there are worse things going on in the world.

All in all, I’m excited. Very excited. I love that we will be living in downtown Vancouver, where we can walk everywhere and go to farmer’s markets and parks and even the beach! Although I think my idea of a beach is not quite what is on the coast here. But that’s the fun in it. Lots of new things to see. I’m also overwhelmed. It’s a new city, new people, new everything. Lots of change. Something I usually initially shy away from, but in the end I always end up happy I embraced the change.

Love and miss everyone back in the States! Will hopefully be getting set up with a new phone, or at least a new plan, soon. For now the wonderful internet will be my means of communication.

Have a lovely day! Till next time…

carpe diem

 

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Without fail…

one or both of the kids always poops as soon as we leave the house to run errands.

I still find myself days before trying to get that “one last thing”, no matter how early I start my Christmas shopping.

I will never be bright eyed and bushy tailed at 6:30am, no matter how early I go to bed;

and now matter how late they go to bed, they are always bright eyed and bushy tailed at 6:30am.

I somehow manage to go to Target 3 times a week.

God provides.

“A Charlie Brown Christmas” gets me in the Christmas mood,

and “It’s a Wonderful Life” makes me cry.

I can always count on Evelyn’s morning fro to make me laugh,

and Theo’s smiley face to make me smile.

as soon as I feel settled, something new gets thrown my way.

my husband is constantly teaching me to have more fun and enjoy the moment,

and my kids remind me that experiences and ideas are what you make of them.

Here’s to not taking life so seriously, rolling with the punches and inviting adventure with open arms.

Merry Christmas!

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I started getting a wee bit worried when I didn’t see any other fellow Christmas travelers pass us with trees strapped to their cars. Surely, if we were headed to the Jones Christmas Tree Plantation (oh no, not just a farm, a whole PLANTATION), there had to be others in search of the ultimate Christmas tree as well. There had to be…

Let’s back up an hour or so. And actually, even more than that. Some history is needed here. I grew up getting real Christmas trees. We usually went the whole nine yards. We would drive for what seemed like forever to a kid out to a tree farm where you cut down your own real tree with a real saw, a farm that had dirt roads and a big red barn where they sold handmade decorations and hot chocolate . Rain, clouds, sunshine or snow (actually it never snowed, we just wished it would), this is what we did every year. It became tradition. It became, almost, part of who we were as a family. The experience rang true to me, if that makes sense. It solidified the season for me, it was something to look forward to and it just didn’t seem genuine to get a fake tree. I began to associate fake Christmas trees with gaudy tinsel and microwave dinners. A real Christmas tree was the way to go…

The last two years we’ve had a fake tree. I guess it was just easier, more convenient. But a month or two ago, as I was sorting through bins and boxes to pack up for our move to Baltimore, I came across this sad, wilted piece of plastic we used to call our tree. I had to get rid of it.

Fast forward to Thanksgiving weekend. Posts of people getting and decorating their trees began popping up all over Facebook. I knew this year I wanted a real tree again. I wanted to give my kids the same experience I had. I wasn’t sure Matt would be all up for trekking out in the wilderness in the grass and dirt, so I thought we could take it slow this year, just got to a place that had already cut trees. It was still the real thing. So off we went, hubby poking fun at me the whole time about my obsession and excitement to finally be getting a real tree again.

Except, when we got there, it wasn’t all the wonderfulness I had expected. I wasn’t getting the same feeling. Evelyn was confused, and crying. From the fake blow up penguin to the cars whizzing by us on Belair Road, we just weren’t feeling it. In a moment of weakness, I suggested just ditching the whole idea and heading to Target for a fake one. I needed milk anyway. To my complete surprise, Matt was the one who whipped out his iPhone and asked Siri where we could find ourselves a legit Christmas tree farm. He said if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it all the way. Let’s get ourselves the whole experience, a real Christmastime adventure. That’s why I love him. He knew how much it meant to me.

So off we went. The kids were content, the roads were traffic free and Sufjan’s Songs for Christmas was playing, I was back into it. 25 minutes later, as we’re getting close, I look back and of course the kids are asleep. No biggie, a power nap never hurt anyone. This is when I start to notice the lack of people driving in the opposite direction with trees. But, it was a Monday afternoon, understandable for it to be slow I guess? Matthew, are you sure you know where we’re going? Mate, Siri is tracking you, relax. And he’s right, Siri did take us there. We pull up to the very quiet, very gated farm plantation with a freshly painted sign reading: “SOLD OUT FOR THE SEASON!” What? There must be some really ambitious people out there about getting their Christmas tree if they’re already sold out before December. At this point, I’m hungry, I’m tired of driving, I know the kids are going to wake up cranky, and again I want to just throw in the towel. And again, my better half pushes for the experience. Luckily for us, we had already passed another tree farm in our search for the plantation, so in a last ditch attempt we decide to check  it out. Don’t remember what it was called, they didn’t sell hot chocolate, but it was a real tree farm with a real red barn. We found it. Turns out my theory about Monday afternoon being a less than popular time to shop for Christmas trees was true, because we had the whole farm to ourselves.

A man who looked like Santa Clause (or Samantha Clause if you ask Evelyn) got off his John Deer tractor, handed us a saw, and we finally got our Christmastime adventure.

The scenery surrounding our first pit stop. Who has a pool open near December?

We made it!

Making a wish.

Samantha  Clause’s real tree farm.

Ev’s first pick.

Rolling my pants up and ready to get dirty.

Such a happy little guy!

We found Charlie Brown’s tree.

The one. Small, but real, and ours.

Adventures are out there.

What better way to end the adventure than by changing a poopy diaper on gravel?

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