The Sweet Life.

Life.

So sweet. Sometimes bitter.

So emotionally scattered. And so completely wonderful.

I'm sad for my absence on this personal little blog of my mine, really since Adaline's birth. Or actually, more since I hopped on the entrepreneur train and started a business with a two year old and a two month old at home. There have been so many times I've desperately wanted to listen to my begging spirit and write about all that's going on. But instead, I pour my energy and creativity into the rest of my day, leaving my brain vacant and incoherent after the girls go to bed.

Life has been busy. And exciting. And incredibly sweet. And hard. But I'm not even sure I could begin to explain all that's gone on in the last six months. SIX MONTHS. I just can't even believe how quickly the span of months flies by.

The few times I have stopped, if even for a moment, I've felt such raw sadness at the passing of time. Like I haven't fully captured every adorably mispronounced word spoken by Lyla or the way Adaline gazes intently and reaches out for our faces. I can't help but feel that I'm living to check off the to-dos, lost in the whirlwind of schedules and meetings and laundry and feedings. But life keeps going, regardless of the fact that I'd like it to pause. It's busy for us, and everyone else I know, and doesn't appear to be slowing down anytime soon.

But this time period has also been so very sweet. I've never in my life been so sure of a decision, with me getting to stay home with the girls. I'm living a dream I never knew existed in my heart - so grateful to be home, while also building a business and relationships in a community I've grown to love so much.  

I'm thankful for so many things that staying home has given me.

Our slow-to-rise mornings, that ironically begin before 6 am. Lyla's eagerness for breakfast immediately upon waking. Her desire to help make my morning coffee {but only after demanding to sit on the counter, while checking her and Adaline's seedlings we planted in pots on the windowsill.} Staring at Adaline while she takes her morning nap, kissing her and taking in that sweet baby scent that I never want to forget. Listening to the girls play while Lyla talks in her best "mommy voice", telling Addie to be careful and good job rolling over. Getting the out of nowhere I wuv you, Mommy and Hug me Mommy. Receiving the reassuring baby smiles that let me know I am everything to my babes. Toting my baby buddy with me to meetings and coffee dates and bible study.

I try to remember those moments over the 20 minute maddening where's-your-other-shoe hunts when we're running 20 minutes late. Or the dead-weight, drop to the floor like a wet noodle tantrums. Or when both girls are crying hysterically, which then makes me cry hysterically (at least on the inside).

Another something that has made my heart so full lately is the time spent with my mom, the girls' Grams. This quality time has been so precious as it's something we rarely got when I was growing up, due to never-ending work demands. But, we've been making up for lost time, and it's been so special to see the bond forming between my mom and the girls. Lyla runs around in circles, and yells throughout the house "GRAMS IS HERE" the moment she sees her car pulling up in the driveway, knowing that it's time for Monday morning story time. They run errands together, eat lunch together and Lyla always comes home to tell me all the people she prayed for with Grams.

So getting the completely unexpected and heartbreaking call that my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer last week shook me to my core. Gabe was out of town, and the only other person I wanted to talk to was my mom. Which didn't seem quite right, so I really just held myself together during the day, only to surrender to my emotions at night after the girls were asleep.

My mom has cancer. And we're in that incredibly frustrating phase of tests and waiting for results. Weighing pros and cons of all options and praying for guidance and strength. Hopeful for a strong, healthy life with family and grandkids.

But that doesn't make it any less scary. It's been hard. And an unwelcome interruption in this sweet time of life.

But life is life. And it has a mind of its own.

So here we are, juggling and balancing, leaning on faith and each other, and enjoying all of our moments.

Because every moment with the people I love is a treasure. And this life is sweet and one I'm so very thankful to be living.

Newbies are my favorite

So here I am. Having the greatest morning with my girls - something that is either hit or miss these days - and ready to gush about the fuzzy newborn phase here on the ol' blog.

But somewhere along the way, I forgot that having a baby toddler throws all plans out the window. And makes a routine-focused, schedule-oriented, type A gal like myself want to shave my head and run around the block a few times. At least that would be something I would have complete control of. And I would get some much-needed fresh air. 

Anyway, having a new baby {and a two year old} is just a roller coaster of emotions to begin with. It's all "Oh my goodness you're so cute, and I want this moment to last forever and ever" and "Seriously? We've been trying to get out the door for an hour now, you're already on outfit #3 for the day, I just got on all 4 layers of winter gear for both of you, your sister has to go potty, and you choose now to spit up all over all three of us?"

If you haven't read this article yet, stop what you're doing and read it now. The whole thing. And if you've ever had a newborn, you will laugh until you cry. Because it is true. Every single bit. I'm just waiting for her perspective on a day in the life with a newborn AND a toddler! :)

Anyway. Where was I? So my girls and I were having the greatest morning. I actually had the energy to make a decent breakfast for Lyla, the three of us shared some cuddles, we had our own story time, and then went for a looong walk to the park. Oh my goodness the sunshine and chilly breeze never felt so good.



Then we got home. Lyla made it very clear with some shouts and stomping that she was hungry, and I couldn't remember for the life of me when I had eaten last. Needless to say, both of us were starving. While Lyla nibbled, and I nursed the baby, she had to go potty. So, I took her back to the bathroom.  {And let's be honest. It isn't nearly as simple as it sounds. Because Lyla is still having a wretched time pooing on the potty. So we go back and forth back and forth at least a dozen times with lots of tears in between. All to have her not go. The poor kid is terrified.}

When I returned from the 11th trip to the potty, I realized my plate was empty. I rubbed my eyes to make sure they weren't deceiving me. Nope. Plate still empty. The dogs had *somehow* gotten onto our dining room table and ATE MY LUNCH.

The whole thing.

They are so lucky I was having a good day with my two year old. Because all I did was yell some choice words and put them outside for a good long time. Oh. But I had thoughts of putting them up for adoption on Craigs List.

I wish I was kidding.

Then, of course, I felt guilty and was all "Oh doggies, I love you. It's not your fault. I realize your'e going through changes too. But you really have to start behaving."

But seriously ya'll. Do you have any idea how much energy it takes these days just to rummage through the empty cabinets and then actually make something for lunch...only to have it eaten by your dogs while your'e taking care of your toddler and newborn?!?!

But I did feel bad after my lashing. So, we kissed and made up. And I invited them on my lap.

Now that I've got that off my chest, I'm ready to talk about what was originally on my mind. Which just so happened to be newborn sweetness. Because here we are. Four weeks into life caring for a second newborn.

Ahh. The newborn phase. You either love it or you hate it. Or a little bit of both.

I mostly love it.

Ok, who am I kidding. I absolutely wish that I could go through the newborn phase at least a dozen more times before I leave this earth. Newbies make me realize the why behind families out there who are 19 and counting. In fact, I'd have a newborn once a year if I could skip labor, if said newborn had the super-human ability to sleep through the night on day one, and if I could skip the toddler tantrums and teenage angst.

They're just such marvelous, interesting, quirky, and hilarious little creatures.

I loved this phase with Lyla, and I love it with Adaline. Miss A, our precious little bug, has been such a delight from the moment we brought her home. She's so easy going, and just easy all around. Oh, and she's a cuddler. Yes - my last baby is a cuddler! Thank goodness. Because I'll be a little sad when she's no longer a newborn. Which, by the way, when are babies technically no longer newborns? Is it when they grow out of newborn-size diapers? Because we just hit that point yesterday. And I refuse to call Addie anything but a newborn. So if you tell me she's no longer a newborn, I'm going to find a way to squeeze her insanely long torso into a newbie diaper.

Newborns.

There's just something about their smell. Holy moly does the newborn smell get my pheromones going, or what. Gabe thinks it simply smells like dirty baby. I, however, would love to bottle it up and turn it into a perfume. I'm really not kidding. Call me crazy, but I think I'd make a fortune.

Oh and the little noises. Those sweet, quirky little noises that have Lyla asking if Baby Adaline okay? because she's never heard any other human making these noises. The tiny mouse-like squeaks, the grunts, the little sucking noise with the pacifier, and the snorts. Oh newborn snorts, how I love you.

Then, they have their distinct newborn movements. Gabe calls these movements "animatronic"- definition being "robotic devices to emulate a human or animal". And that's so completely accurate. Newborns have these robotic movements that seem so calculated yet so spastic at the same time. Lots of flailing limbs, head bobs, and of course the non-stop rooting. Love em' all.

They make me laugh, I tell ya. Like how they stare at the strangest things for hours - things like the couch cushion or the white wall. Or how they are so animalistic in that first latch on while nursing. Or how they have that "scare reflex" where they all of a sudden will throw their arms in the air while sleeping like something scared the bejeebies out of them. I catch myself laughing all day long.

Um. And can we stop for a moment and talk about the reality of how easy newborns really are? I mean seriously. You can put them in a chair, bouncy seat, swing, or any other nook in your house, and they will stay there and contently sleep for hours. I mean, my best friend's mom didn't come up with the term "neglect-o-matic", when referring to a baby swing, because she thought it sounded fancy. It's because you stick a newborn in any ol' spot, and they're happy. And you might unintentionally forget about them. Unless of course your newborn has colic, which my firstborn did. Then, you're screwed.

And call me crazy? But I actually get a twinge of excitement in the middle of the night when I hear those first cries before the BIG cry which means "Feed me right now no really right this very instant right now!" I look forward to the one-on-one time without the buzzing of a typical busy day. I mean sure, I have bags the size of golfballs, but this time period is short in the grand scheme of things. And I will sleep again. And once I do, I'll miss our middle of the night one-on-one encounters.

Oh my goodness, there's just so much cuteness. The unintentional smiles while sleeping, the little fists rolled into balls while nursing, the face perched on a hand while sleeping, the big stretches when first waking up, and the faces. Those sweet newbie faces. My personal favorites are the kissie-lip-pucker face, the catching-flies-while-i-sleep face, and the infamous scrunch face.

But my absolute favorite? The way they curl up into the fetal position, and snuggle up into that sweet spot between your shoulder and neck. Ahh. And you can feel the warm skin of their cheek on yours. Just a warm little ball of love. I could do that all day everyday for the rest of my entire life.

Oh. And fuzzy after-bath hair. That's the best.

Ok. I think that covers it.

But thank goodness I have a baby, you guys. Because all this talk of newborns is giving me baby fever over here.

Adaline, I just may squeeze you into newborn diapers for the next 6 months. ;)

Permanent Maternity Leave

It's finally starting to sink in.
At least a little.

At this moment in time, I am on permanent maternity leave.
I'm *gasp* a stay-at-home-mom.

I can't say this was ever in our plan. It's never even been a dream really. That is until Lyla was born just over two years ago, and I went back to teaching for a year. Priorities started shifting away, and I got sadder and sadder deep within my gut. And that sadness never subsided for me like it does for many other moms. So, I made some life changes, got an ideal new job, found more balance, and was happier than I'd ever been.

But now that we're expecting our second, and after a lot Saturday morning coffee talks, one too many morning-rush-blurs, the inability to take care of my own kid when she's sick, a super-jazzed-up excel spreadsheet of our budget, and the realization that working for me simply meant paying for daycare for two kiddos, we came to the conclusion that it would be best for me to stay home.

And I couldn't be more excited...or thankful.

I have no idea what this new gig will look like. It's quite difficult to imagine, really. And I don't exactly know how long of a gig it may be. I tend to get antsy easily. I like being productive. I like being social. I like using my brain. And, if we're completely honest, I like not having to check our bank account every 15 minutes to make sure I haven't spent too much at Baby Gap. That being said, however, I love being a mom. Every ounce of my being wants to be there for my kids, put more than half of myself into their lives, and stop going through life at such a rapid speed that I blink and suddenly have two teenagers arguing over the car. And although I do have an idea or two up my sleeve to help me with my desires to stay with-it and be a productive member of society (and hopefully bring in some extra income too), I am reminding myself that this time goes by in a flash. And I want to soak up every moment with my babies. Just enjoy. Just be. 

However, things started off a bit rough my first week on the new job. My hope was to have a good, solid week with Lyla. A few days for just the two of us before baby arrives. To make up for lost time, busy schedules, and future time that will be spent with a newborn. But my first day into my new gig, I was just sure I was going into labor as I woke in the middle of the night with stomach-flu-like symptoms. Same exact thing happened the day I went into labor with Lyla. All I could think was "I'M NOT READY. THE NURSERY ISN'T READY. MY HOSPITAL BAG ISN'T READY."

Well. Instead of me going into labor, my "stomach-flu-like symptoms" turned out to be the actual stomach bug. I was pretty miserable (and pretty 9 months pregnant) with a toddler at home who needed me. Because she, of course, came down with the bug too. Luckily, hers only lasted 24 hours. But in those 24 hours, I washed sheets a total of 6 times. And I lost a total of 4 pounds between last week's OB appointment and yesterday's. Where I found out I am indeed progressing, and it really could be anytime that baby makes his or her debut.

Could be in 2 weeks. Could be tonight. {And because I'm admittedly neurotic, I went back to look at my blogpost from a few days before Ly was born. Turns out, I am exactly at the same spot I was four days before I went into labor with her.}

Ugh. The anticipation. And I still don't think I'm quite ready. {insert nervous emoticon face}

And just as we're finally getting into the swing of things as we wait for "baby sister" (according to Lyla) to arrive. We've gone to story time at the library, she started "school" one day a week, and this mama has been hyper-productive. I've crossed things off my list that have been sitting there collecting dust for a good 6 months. And Gabe and I even went on our first date in, oh, probably 6 or 7 months, to celebrate my birthday. I had the best shrimp and scallop fettuccine alfredo and banana caramel bread pudding. And it was worth every minute spent in misery with a horrible tummy ache.

And oh my goodness the mood shift in this house. Everyone is more relaxed. And all around happier. Especially Lyla. It's amazing at how much of a buzzkill I was at the end of each day after work. Now, I have more energy and time for Ly, and she is just happier. Of course our blissful, dream-like state is about to come to a crashing halt any day once we bring home a crying newborn and jump back into a life of lack-of-sleep-induced comas. Believe me, I'm aware.

And in fact, because this baby loves squeezing the heck out of my bladder, I'm up all hours of the night. And every time I wake, I'm thankful I haven't yet gone into labor because I get one more day with Miss Beans. As excited as I am to meet our new babe, I do get a little misty thinking about how the dynamics of our family are going to change. I remember feeling the same way when it was just Gabe and I anxiously waiting for Lyla to be born.  Of course that sadness went away and was immediately replaced by the most incomprehensible joy we'd ever felt the moment Ly entered the world. And I'm sure that will happen again with new baby's arrival. But it's still bittersweet.

But while we wait, we will continue to utilize every moment of our weekends together as a family of three. And during the week, I am soaking up this girl time - just the two of us. Ly is at the cutest age, and I truly wish I could bottle up her two-year-oldness forever.

I melt over so many things... // When she pulls up my shirt and gives "kisses to baby sister" at random. // Or when she's playing for hours at a time sporadically stops what she's doing to look up and say "hi mom" as a little reminder she's still in the room and needs a moment of attention. // Talking on the phone to her and hearing her say "hi mama. I love you." or "happy birthday mama" in the sweetest little voice I've ever heard in my life. // Her warnings to "be careful" when I'm cooking over a hot stove or if I trip over something. // Her wanting to be a little adult by carrying around her purse and phone everywhere she goes or "putting on makeup" while I get ready. (No. I do not let her put on makeup. I give her my makeup brush and she goes to town). // How she tells any guest who leaves "see ya alligator". // Or when I had her test out the pouf in the corner of the baby room. She sadly walked over and said "Lyla in timeout." Bless her sweet little heart - I nearly cried. //

I would love to have a two year old for the rest of my life. It's just the best. And I'm so grateful I get this one on one time with her before babe.

So far, I sure am loving this new life. And I am unguilt-ily going to go enjoy every last sip of my homemade pumpkin spice coffee, finish up some projects in the baby room, and savor these quiet moments during nap time. Because these days are fleeting and going to abruptly come to an end very soon.

And call me crazy, but I couldn't be more excited for the chaos that is to ensue.

Bring on our family of four.

Just Being

I'm pretty sure I've broken some sort of absence rule over here on the blog.

I'm surprised I even remembered my login to my Mac as my brain muscles are most definitely getting squishy and rusty. And I don't like it one bit. {Yet, admittedly, I kind of do.}

I wish I could give a good excuse as to why I haven't had the desire to sit down and blog.
Like we've been busy completely remodeling our house.
Or I took on a volunteer project which has taken up all my time.
Or we have been busy packing all of our belongings to move to Madrid for a year.

But instead, the only real excuse I have is simply life.
We have been very busy enjoying every bit of it.
Busy enjoying happy.

Our pastor put it perfectly into perspective a couple of Sundays ago when he said, "We must find the value in being, not doing."
I'm pretty sure he was looking right at me when he said that.
Ok, not really.
But truer words have never been spoken, and these particular words struck a nerve deep in my soul.

So here I am, really focusing on simply being, not doing.

And to be quite honest, for the first time ever, my life is tranquil.
I am at peace with every aspect of it.
I feel content. I'm sleeping at night. And I don't feel even a twinge of anxiety.

This level of contentment, however, hasn't come naturally. I've had to work quite hard and make a very conscious effort to get to the where I'm at. I've spent the last 8 months detoxing and intentionally eliminating things from my life that tend to cause me anxiety - things like perfectionism and comparison.

I've said no to more commitments in the past 3 months than I have in my 30 years of living. I've made more of an effort to be around the people who make me feel the most "whole" and whom I feel no pressure to impress. I spend more time in the word and in prayer. I try to focus on gratitude instead of wanting more. I've forgiven myself for mistakes I've made and regrets I have. I left a profession that I thought I would love but didn't. I have learned that my value is not in the things I do but who I am.

Earlier this week, my morning devotional from Jesus Calling really stayed with me, "Accept yourself and your circumstances just as they are...Do not wear yourself out with planning and analyzing".

Once again, I'm pretty sure the author must have done a bit of stalking, and then wrote this just for me. Not that planning or analyzing are bad qualities, well, at least I hope not. Those are two characteristics that are absolutely etched into my being - I will never be able to rid my planning nature. Planning in and of itself is a wonderful thing, but planning to achieve perfection is where things get sticky. I have learned {and am still learning} to let go of things I cannot change and to not sweat the small stuff. **But believe me, this isn't easy. There are still plenty of small things I sweat. Just ask my husband and his habit of putting his cereal bowls in the left side of the sink. ;)

But I promise I'm getting better.

Know how I know? Because I made scones from a box this week instead of scouring Pinterest for an hour looking for the perfect recipe for two co-workers' birthdays. Or the fact that I'm totally fine with pizza and balloons for Lyla's second birthday. Or the fact that I am perfectly content updating and improving our current home instead of being sour that it's not time for us to "upgrade".

I'm really enjoying this whole avoiding perfectionism thing.

But also in my moments of weakness, I find myself getting antsy. Hoping for a new project or commitment. Wanting more responsibility. Wanting a challenge. Wanting to take on the world.

I'm a doer through and through.

But then I'm immediately reminded that this time with Lyla is so precious, so sweet, so fleeting. Each milestone, each passing moment, will never again be repeated. And when I have other commitments, I tend to not be as focused on my family as I'd like to be. My entire heart, brain and existence goes into whatever responsibilities I've been given.

So for this very short spec on the timeline of my life, and for the very first time ever, I have chosen to put my entire self into just being.

And it's amazing how just being brings a somewhat unfamiliar feeling to my bones: peace and contentment.
Oh. And lots and lots of happy.

The Season of Boring

Gabe mentioned something to me during our Saturday morning coffee talk a couple of weeks ago.
Something that's really had my wheel's turning.

This week marks the longest we've ever lived in one place since we've been married.
Exactly one week longer than the time we lived in Rhode Island.

Naturally, it feels a bit odd to not be packing our things.
It was always such a thrill getting news that we were to relocate somewhere we'd never been.
We would immediately spend hours Googling potential neighborhoods and reading Yelp reviews on local coffee shops and cafes.

{Sigh.}
Moving around provided some of the best years of our married life.
And I'd be lying if I said we don't get the itch every now and then.

Even just over a year ago when I was still pregnant with Lyla, Gabe mentioned the inkling of a desire  to move to a big city with more opportunity, culture, and hustle and bustle.
But as exhilarating as it may be to go in blindly to a new place, I really like being settled, I sure like convenience, and I really like a little thing called family.
I think I'm past my prime for the fast-paced city life, I told him, just like I'm past my prime for roughing it in the wild. I prefer having a car, clean towels, and being less than 5 miles from Target. 

I think after that, he went to the bedroom and cried a little.

And then it occurred to me.
Do I no longer thrive on living life on the edge or by seeking new adventure?

I'm not exactly sure when the switch was flipped.
The switch that made it so I suddenly became *seemingly* a dud.
But it most certainly was flipped somewhere along the line.

Of course having a baby changed a few things: outlook, perspective, priorities, the need for a more supportive bra, and the nap that I will never have again.
And then there was my job-change that offered a much more relaxed change of pace.
And can I count this cold winter as playing a part in my lack of desire to get out and explore the world?
But more than having a baby, changing jobs, and dealing with icky weather, I truly feel like hitting 30 caused the momentous change inside me. A change that was exactly what I {unknowingly} needed. A change that somehow made it ok to do the things that make me happy, even if those things seem stale and insignificant to the young whippersnappers.

Now that I've hit the big 3-oh, I say it's socially acceptable to be boring.
And thank the Lord.
Because I've been waiting on boring for the last 30 years.
I was never cut out for the party scene.
And I'm such an old lady at heart.

But don't be fooled for a second.
Boring, to me, does not actually mean insignificant or mundane.
And it definitely does not mean "not a thing on my plate" or "brutally un-fun".

It simply means more relaxed. Not caring what others think. Doing what makes me happy. Not focusing so much on what makes others happy. Enjoying the small things. Being less self-absorbed. Refining my taste. Experiencing a newfound confidence. Quality of friends over quantity. Wine and coffee. Intelligent conversations. Slowing down to take it all in. Reading interesting {and factual} articles. And accepting the fact that I'm much more of a homebody than I ever realized.

And so what.
I really like books and house projects and movies and lazy weekends {all of which completely describe last Saturday at our house}.

My 21 year old self is horrified.
But my 30 year old self doesn't care.

But this is also the season of life where I have finally let go. I no longer strive to do what I think I'm supposed to do or what I think others think I'm supposed to do. I do what I want to do. I fully embrace this life I've been blessed with. I'm abundantly thankful. When at one time, I wasn't always so grateful. I compared and envied and even felt slighted at times for not being given the same opportunities as others around me. But now that I'm older {and wiser}, I fully believe that regardless of the deck of cards we've been dealt, we ourselves must create opportunities. I've done a lot of growing and a lot of maturing and am fully confident that our circumstances, especially the bad, shape us into the beautiful individuals God intended for us to be.

I'm in a season where I actually like me.

I guess all I'm really trying to say is that growing up really doesn't suck as bad as I thought it was going to. In fact, being a grown up is my most favorite thing ever. I mean, of course I have those days where I would give anything to be back at the ADPi house watching The Bachelor, where my only worry was that I ran out of Diet Coke mid-rose ceremony. But overall, I much prefer this season of life over any other that I've experienced.

I've always loved the changing of seasons. So much that it leaves me to fight my constant intrinsic desire to move onto the next big season and battle my never-ending "need" to accomplish, to do, and to change. But I am humbly reminded to "be still" and savor this time, for this is one season that I'd like to stick around for just a tad bit longer.

Here I am. Just being boring with my Beans. 

Local Challenge: Entz Orchard

I will never forget my first trip to Austin, Texas.

We had been living in Dallas for nearly a year.

Where I was used to big malls and big-name chains.

Big everything, really.

Then, I made a little road trip to Austin to see a good friend.

Where I no longer felt like I was in Texas.

And I liked it.

Boutiques, markets, and quaint little restaurants.

Local artisan handiwork on every corner. 

People-watching and line-dancing on 6th Street. 

But my interest for this unique city was piqued further as I saw the same slogan everywhere we went.

Keep Austin Weird, it said.

I pried a bit deeper.

Only to discover the brilliance of this slogan.

Austinites are committed to keeping things local.

Or keeping things weird.

It was a completely foreign concept to me.

Growing up in Wichita, Kansas.

Where everyone's favorite restaurant is Olive Garden.

After our quick stint in Dallas, we moved to Rhode Island.

Where hardly anyone goes to a chain anything.

Starbucks is a bad word.

Everyone knows someone who owns a local business.

And some of the most authentic restaurants that you can't find anywhere else in the world.

Because they're all local.

It was a whole new world for Gabe and me.

We made it our personal mission to try as many unique and local festivals, boutiques, restaurants, and events while we lived in New England.

Not to mention the beaches and mountains in close proximity. 

You better believe we spent every weekend for 3 years covering nearly every inch of that area.

Sort of like local tourists.

There is absolutely nothing like the thrill of moving to and exploring a new city. 

These explorations easily provided some of the best memories of my life. 

Then. 

A few years later, we moved back home.

Smack-dab in the middle of the country.

Landlocked.

But Home Sweet Home.

Don't get me wrong. 

We love the comfort of having our families close by.

And of course the friends we've known known since kindergarten.

And sometimes I actually feel like I'm in a new city.

With new friendships.

New interests.

New experiences.

New outlooks.

I guess that's what having kids and turning 30 will do to you.

But I'll be honest.

Every now and then, we get the itch. 

You know, the oh my gosh I might go absolutely crazy if I don't get to a mountain or beach in the next 30 seconds itch.

And don't even get me started on the absence of J.Crew, Crate and Barrel, Nordstrom Rack, and Trader Joes.

{Sigh}

However.

I can't think of a better place I'd rather raise our children.

And in all the places we've lived, I've never met people as down-to-earth as Wichitans.

When we lived in New England, I was desperate for just one friendly for-no-good-reason-except-I'm-just-happy-to-be-alive smile from a stranger.

I often have to remind myself of these things.

And that brings me to a recent Saturday morning coffee talk with Gabe.

We got to talking about how we missed the excitement of being in a new city.

To experience the local flavor. 

To go out searching for our coffee shop, our restaurant, our favorite weekend hangout.

So.

We decided that we can either whine about the fact that we can't just pack up the stroller, hop on a train and hit up Giacomo's in Boston, OR we can take on Wichita and all it has to offer.

And that is where The Local Challenge was created.

We decided that twice a month, we are going to try something new in the Wichita and surrounding areas.

And I, of course, hope to document our little galavants.

Bearing in mind that I'm no photographer nor eloquent writer.

Just a gal wanting to capture some sweet family experiences.

In hopes of rekindling a flame with our beloved hometown.

And we've already hit up a few new spots.

One of which just so happened to be where my surprise 30th birthday party was held.

I even brought my camera to try to get some pics.

But I was a little distracted with, oh-you-know, the whole surprise party thing.

*And with the wine.*

But we plan to go back.

And I hope to do a nice little review then. :)

Anyway.

Last week, we decided to take advantage of Gabe's day off and the perfect fall weather.

So we headed 20 miles northeast of Wichita.

To pick up our *broken* tradition of apple picking every fall.

{Something we did every year in Little Rhody}.

Our perfectly-autumn destination was Entz Orchard.

Where we were "greeted" by a napping orchard dog.

And a welcoming, "Hi, I'm Elaine. Welcome to Entz Orchard. What a cute little girl you have. Oh I love her moccasins! Here. Let me take a picture of your adorable family. Can I get you an apple picker?"

Sold.

A short-lived retreat from the go-go-go of everyday life.

Rows and rows of apple trees.

Homeschooled families learning about the life cycle of a plant.

Sweaty kiddos taking a break in the shade.

Freshly-bitten apples from curious little mouths.

After all. 

You're ordered to Come hungry as we don't weight YOU before and after, just the fruit you picked.

So hungry we came.

We stocked our bag {and our bellies} with Honey-crisps and Pink Ladies.

Ly snacked on a Honey-crisp while Mom and Dad used the nifty apple-picking tool to reach high up in the trees.

$6.00 and a bagful of the tastiest-apples-I've-sunk-my-teeth-into later, and we were on our way.

While Ly sat in the backseat crunching on a perfectly-Lyla-size apple the whole way home.

{I'm not sure I've ever heard a cuter sound Crunch.Crunch.Crunch.}.

I only wish we had discovered Entz Orchard sooner.

Because not only do they have apples, they have peaches in the summer.

And who doesn't love fresh fruit. 

That supports local farmers.

And is delicious to boot. 

Thank you, Doug and Elaine.

We will definitely be back.