A day in the high country

Today was an incredible day.

It began much like every other day. The whole family was awake, up and about by 8:30am or so (okay, so that's new—I'm sorry to say that I usually sleep in until later). Cereal for breakfast. No real plans for the day. It was just another Saturday in the making.

But then something deviated from the normal path. I can't even remember now how it happened, but one minute we're downstairs doing much of nothing, and the next we were in the car, toting ourselves, some bottled waters, and a frame backpack kid carrier towards the North Carolina mountains. We were embarking on our first agenda-less little mini-getaway since our move to this state almost exactly a year ago.

[Sidebar: holy moly! It's been a year already. In, like, three days, we will have been non-residents of Illinios for a whole year. Where (besides house-hunting and setting-up) did it all go?!]

We left the house around 10:15 or so, with Linville Caverns as our target. Gavin seemed thoroughly intrigued by this cavern concept, referring multiple times throughout the day to "going underground". Around 11, Aidan fell asleep in the car, and caught a much-needed 45-minute nap. We grabbed lunch at a Wendy's about 15 miles away from the caverns, and then made our way to the site. In all, the trip took about three hours.

After parking, we transferred all our stuff into the kid carrier. (This turned out to be a mistake, as we were later informed that there'd be no room for that carrier in the caverns.) We hung around for a little while before entering the caverns, trying to let the boys see the nearby creek and boulders and such, snapping some photos, etc. The caverns were cool (literally, and figuratively). Gavin enjoyed walking around in there, and was surprisingly obedient to the no-touching rule that our guide, Candice, laid down. Aidan didn't seem to mind the experience either, save for the bit where total darkness is experienced. But he calmed down when I spoke gently into his ear, and when I let him walk back to the cavern entrance, he seemed to completely forget that momentary fright. And then as quickly as the tour began, it was over.

It was now only about 2:30pm. Me being the type of person who loves to cram a day full of activities, and loves being out-of-town (even when I have nothing against the town), we just started driving deeper into the mountains. I was hoping to do a little hiking—by golly, I brought that kid carrier, and it was gonna get used! Fortunately, Linville Falls is quite close to the caverns, and offers a hike to the falls that's less than a mile round-trip. Amy was cool with the idea, the boys were in good moods, so we took the opportunity.

Hiking to and from the falls was fun. With Aidan loaded onto my back, and Gavin helping Amy down the trail (or maybe it was the other way around...), we made it down there in pretty good time, and without too much work. We spent a little time at the viewing point, just taking it all in. Gavin and I took more in than we were really supposed to, hopping over the ropes to climb around on the rocks closer to the water. It just can't be helped—God built this world to be enjoyed, and I want my boys to experience the same thrill that I get when actually touching nature beyond the safety of man's well-manicured little walkways. In all, we probably spent only 20 minutes or so at the falls, then began the return hike. Gavin was in a silly mood, and Aidan wanted to walk, so this time Gavin and I paired up (with Gavin energetically leading the way), and Amy and Aidan walked hand-in-hand behind us. Some fellow hikers even remarked about Gavin, "That's one tough little guy." I beamed. And Aidan—wow—four-tenths of a mile, uphill the whole way, and he walked every bit of it!

Figuring there was still a little more to be squeeze out of this day, we continued up Highway 221 toward Boone. We passed Grandfather Mountain, but decided against stopping. Besides, Aidan was grabbing another quick snooze at the time. We ate dinner at a little homestyle cooking place in Boone itself, and then headed home. With two sleepy boys (Gavin hadn't napped all day), the return trip wasn't the most peaceful thing. But eventually we made it, and the trip ended in characteristic Pilato style—with Gavin serenading the bunch of us. Tonight's feature: a tortured mishmash of "The Wheels on the Bus", the alphabet song (as delivered by Tad et al on a LeapPad DVD Gavin owns), and "There's a Hole in the Bottom of the Sea", that included such verses as, "The horse on the bus says 'Move on back, move on back, move on back' ... The log in the hole goes bump, bump, bump ... Every letter makes a sound ..."

Today was an incredible day.

Home ownership, defined

In a word—or non-word, as it turns out—home ownership has much to do with being anti-Nature. Not, like, "Nature's no good" or "I hate Nature", but more like, "Why can't Mother Nature keep her kids in line? What kind of mother is she, anyway?!"

Okay, I admit that I'm just a little battle worn. Nursing a pair of matching beestings, each strategically placed equidistant from the poison ivy sores in their respective locales, I am quite literally itching to finish ripping out seven ugly bushes that line the back of our home and harass passers-by with their leafy tentacles. To Nature's great credit, reproduction is her strong suit—these suckers shoot their root systems every which way, popping up little micro-bushes all over the place. And not just all over the easy-to-excavate place, either. No, we're talking about under and around such interesting artifacts as the main cable, television, and electrical trunk lines to the house.

Mike pauses to scratch.

Anyway, I'm starting to get the hang of it. Four down, three to go. Another six hours in direct 98-degree blistering sunlight, sweat dripping uninhibited down my buzzed head (I have recently realized one of the benefits that a non-trivial amount of hair provides), and I'll be free of those bushes.

Then I can move on to the other 2,371 home ownership responsibilities.

Ahem. Home at last, I said

Okay, so it's true that way back in March, we finally closed on a home purchase. But now it's mid-May, and last night we actually all slept in the house for the first time. See, we've been really busy as of late. I've had a bunch of business travel. And we're just now starting to realize that from March to June, there are a thousand different birthdays and anniversaries in our close family to celebrate. Plus, we wanted to replace the carpet in the home before move-in, and we wanted to drive screws through the floor boards before the carpet came in, and … well, you get the point.

But now, at long last, we can really say it—we're home.

One down, many to go

Aidan reached an exciting milestone today—the first anniversary of his birth. Yep, an entire year of craziness has passed since he was born. With the relocation and house hunt and colic and business trips and living in a temporary place, it's a wonder that any of us remains to tell the story. In fact, I've been in Monterey on business since Wednesday, but arranged to leave early from the CollabNet 2006 Engineering Offsite so that I could get back in time to say "Happy Birthday" in person to my boy. We're thrilled to have reached this milestone, and thank God for our wonderful second child.

It's really interesting to contrast who Aidan is at age one versus who Gavin was at that age (and to some degree, remains). The two are just completely different souls. Gavin was making strong, focused attempts at a handful of real words; Aidan is much more vocal, babbling incessantly with mostly nonsense sounds. Gavin was content to sit and play alone with one thing for long periods of time; Aidan is always moving, always redirecting his focus. He doesn't hold things but long enough to wind up and pitch them across the room. Cars, trains, and anything spherical—that's where Aidan's attention is.

Nothing drove these differences home to Amy and I more than our recent attempt at buying birthday gifts for Aidan. We admitted from the start that non-first children are disadvantaged because parents don't want to buy perfectly good toys that the child might like if the child's older siblings already have those toys. They are further disadvantaged when those older siblings aren't keen on sharing those toys! But the work we put into this shopping trip was much less an artifact of the available options being superficially minimized than it was the result of our two boys just being so different. But different is good; different is cool. Is it more challenging to us as parents? Sure. But I think in the end it's more rewarding, too.

Home at last!

It's finally here. That day. The one where we (again) sign our lives away into the servitude of a financial institution. We've closed on a new home. She's a fine girl, in her late teens. And as a full-brick structure with 4 bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths, and a bonus room across 2600 square feet, you might say she's got a … "healthy" build.

At any rate, we couldn't be happier about seeing this long search come to an end in such a pleasing way, and are thanking God as often as this wonderful thought crosses our minds. Hats off to our realtor, Donnie Icenhour of New Carolina Homes realty, for putting up with us for as long as he did!

The house hunt (hopefully) ends

Today we got some fantastic news—our offer on a home here in Harrisburg was accepted. We're going to have a new residence soon! Obviously, there are plenty of things to be done between here and there, what with inspections and appraisals and loan applications and … you know, lots of paperwork. But Amy and I are so incredibly excited about this home. Land, location, and low taxes—what a magnificent find!

The house hunt begins

We've finally begun looking for a new house in the Charlotte area. Well, technically, we're looking in the Cabarrus Country area, which is immediately north and east of Charlotte. Fortunately we aren't really pushed for time in this process, so we have the luxury of going about the whole thing with considerably less stress than could have been involved. But we're kinda hoping that we'll be in our home by the time Winter hits—you know, destroy (again) the nice routines Gavin and Aidan have just settled into.