"...five blissful hours of baby-free time..."

Here I sit.

I'm in my little corner of the Bird House - a space that takes up about half of the sun room where I placed my desk, some Sterilite tubs of craft goodies, a bookcase, and a chair. It's cozy. 

The other half of the sun room will be dedicated to yoga, my winter seedlings, and *hopefully* to orchids. I have a nice view of the backyard and the field beyond it. I can watch Sawyer run stupidly around the yard for hours and then Branflake as well when he gets older. It's a good spot to call my own.

Needless to say, we did close on the house. We closed on time, which surprised my pessimist husband. 

Closing was a boring process, no different from any of the times we've signed a lease on an apartment. The only difference this time was the number of digits on the check we handed over, and, of course, this home is ours to do with what we want.

The last two weeks have been a flurry of boxes, moving trucks, furniture delivery, painting, cable set-up, and a crying baby.

As hard as we tried, poor Branflake's schedule was disrupted and it's been an ordeal to get him back on it. Later today I'm going to drop him off at a local church...nope, not getting rid of him, they offer a "Mother's Day Out" program. I give them twelve dollars and they give me five blissful hours of baby-free time to do whatever I need to do. I might take a nap.

Although I'm a little nervous about leaving him, I know he needs the time to socialize. He's almost eight months old and still thinks he's the only baby in the world. PB says it's high time "King Tut" began to realize otherwise. I tend to agree.

All in all, our last move for several years (at the very least) was fairly smooth, but I'm not done and have to get back to it.