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Hello! Here we are!

So we're all moved in, except for a few bins of crap, which persist because my husband is mentally ill. We moved from a relatively spacious house to an apartment that is approximately the size of a walk-in closet, and Scott thinks he can bring along his "mementos" and other useless debris that the voices in his head tell him he must never discard. Scott is way more sentimental than I am, it turns out. I gleefully shredded fifteen years of journals (I know people were alarmed by this move, but please believe me when I tell you that there was nothing worth keeping in those journals), donated all of Henry's baby toys and clothing, and practically had to be stopped from starting a memorabilia bonfire in the backyard. I got memories in my head-parts, so what do I need scrapbooks for? Is my motto.

At any rate, we're back in Brooklyn, and I don't think it would be possible for me to be happier. There's always some sadness when you leave a place, and I do miss my New Jersey friends, but we love it here. Love it. We love the things that would probably drive other people insane. Okay, I could do without the constant noise coming from the people above us, who are housing either a rambunctious child, or a pony, or both. And some of the neighbors really enjoy engaging in spirited debates in the stairwell, which can be grating. But otherwise, wow, we're pleased.

I wasn't sure how Henry would adjust to the new setting. He was pretty blasé about the move, but then, he seemed equally unperturbed when we moved to NJ, but once we were settled in, his heart closed down. So far, though, all is going swimmingly. It doesn't hurt that we're so happy to be here, that he has friends and relatives around the corner, that there's a playground across the street, or that he's a superstar in his new school. Apparently when you're in kindergarten, being the New Kid makes you an alluring, mysterious figure, and not an awkward outcast. Also, there are Legos. Which is really all he needs to make it through the day.