So here I am, two weeks in my new home, and the truth is, I haven't been very productive. And that's just fine with me.
I have, mind you, registered my car, applied for a driver's license, unpacked loads of boxes, gotten library cards, visited my new school and met my new boss, found the best farmer's markets, checked out lots of local restaurants, purchased new furniture, set up utility accounts, changed my address for every possible online account I have, explored the trails around my home, had my bike tuned up, acquired some very much needed back-to-school clothes, introduced myself to neighbors, et cetera et cetera, blah blah blah. In other words, many of the logistical and pragmatic things have been dealt with well.
More significantly, I've spent happy oodles of time with my mom, my brother, my sister-in-law and my amazing niece, who's working on mastering my name. She pronounces it differently every time, with silly lilts and lisps. Sometimes I'm "Taren" or "Sharen," and other times it's even more like "Arreee," as if she's some loopy British kid off to Hogwarts, but every time I hear her say it, I melt. It's so cheesy, but true. I've been having fun spending time with her, and I am filled with dopey warmth and excitement every time I think about the fact that I'll be here when she grows up, that I won't be one of those aunts who just sends cards on birthdays and swoops in once or twice a year for holidays.
I'm well aware that I'm still in vacation mode - that's the only way I've been managing putting off the schoolwork that nags me daily when I'm just hanging out with family or even catching up on old Hulu episodes - but the non-work I've been doing is exactly what I need to be doing to make my new house feel like home. The work can wait.
At least for a few more days.
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