Settling In.

With one hand on the full but uncapped bottles of recently-pumped milk riding shotgun in order to prevent tear-inducing spillage, I fished for cash for the tollbooth with the other. Not insignificant amount forked over, I inched into the traffic jam on the George Washington Bridge. I checked the clock and noted with a sigh that it would be a race for class. Man, I was tired of feeling like I was always running five minutes behind. Funny, I thought. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Then again, that melodramatic sentiment was probably mostly attributable to “moving fatigue.” It had been a month-plus of hotels and kids who didn’t sleep and new everything and trying to find electronic components in the bottoms of moving boxes and none of the four of us having any routine to speak of. The wear and tear on us all was starting to show, and was particularly keenly felt by the keeper of routines and bedtimes, yours truly.

Lots had, in fact, changed in the last month, the continuing nature of my horrendous commute notwithstanding. We still had an intimidating list of house projects before we were fully mission capable in the new place, but we had for all intents and purposes completed the big move. With two under two. It had been quite a haul, and we felt very much like survivors. We had had terrific help and some good laughs along the way, but we were thrilled we would never have to do it again (at least not with kids this little.)

As Grandma Jayne had on the Maryland end, Mom and Dad had come to our rescue in a big way in New York, entertaining increasingly moving-fatigued kids, rolling up their sleeves to unpack boxes (ironic since their own unpacking isn’t done), cooking and cleaning and folding hundreds of loads of laundry, and reminding me of all the fun stuff there was to do in the Hudson Valley. Much to my chagrin, they bought Finley a sandbox.

Plus, they were responsible for Finley and Ford’s first big Walters Family milestone, helping me half-drag, half-carry them on a hike to the top of Storm King, an old favorite of thirty (!!) years ago.

To everyone’s dismay, they went back to Arkansas right before Labor Day weekend, but left behind enough carpe diem energy to inspire me to abandon to-do lists and the fact that we desperately needed groceries. We postponed our “bridge too far” Lexington & Concord trip until some time in the distant future at which the thought of staying in a hotel didn’t make us cringe, and hastily organized a "staycation."

And it was incredible. There are many, many things not to like about living at (and specifically, on) West Point. My commute, particularly when arranged around an every-three-hour pumping schedule, is awful. Our neighborhood has zero privacy and a very high “Stepford” factor, and working Moms are essentially outcasts. And we are about to become prisoners on post on home game weekends- just me and the kids, that is, since Seth will be tied up on the sidelines. And that’s all before winter weather turns the roads into ice rinks.

But it’s beautiful. Seriously stunning. The access to the outdoors is unparalleled, the Hudson vistas are as ubiquitous as they are jaw dropping, and we’re surrounded by kid-friendly outdoor activities unimpeded by traffic and parking issues. Our long weekend was idyllic, as we explored our new home and even made a foray in to the (surprisingly navigable on weekends) City. We took the kids to a sunset West Point band concert at Trophy Point, at which Finley rudely insisted on sitting in the front row and Ford napped.

We discovered our new taco place in waterfront Peekskill,

and found an incredible brunch spot in Cornwall, on a picturesque farm where Finley chased chickens and devoured pancakes.

We spent a sunny, beautiful day in Central Park, exploring the zoo and sampling the wares of hot dog carts and laughing about Finley’s obsession with the horse carriages.

And we made Finley dress up in 17^th century costumes at the corn festival in Sleepy Hollow while we downed pumpkin ales, after which we said goodbye to summer from beautiful Croton Point Park.

So now we go about the business of establishing a routine and eating something other than takeout and figuring out how we’re going to squeeze in workouts and avoid getting stuck at bus stations in Harlem. (I am on the verge of abandoning public transit for good, traffic be damned.)

Life is still a little chaotic and crazy, but we’re almost done with boxes and furniture assembly, and as fall approaches we’re looking forward to getting a handle on things in time for apple picking and football season. Both of which are nearly upon us, so wish us luck!

A couple favorites from the last couple weeks or so (it’s been awhile, since the computer situation is still in flux as we wait on the delivery of a desk and revert to the use of Ethernet cables):

F&F on the swings at Round Pond, loving time with Ana & Ata (even if Dad let Ford fall asleep in this incredibly awkward-looking position).

Finley running around the backyard like a maniac, seconds before she fell in her pool with the bucket on her head.

And- I love this one- relaxing on the banks of the Hudson River on a Friday. Life is good.

Last one for now. I'm afraid that, as much as we're going to love living "upstate," we may have a city kid on our hands. Finley stripped off her clothes and reveled in the fountains and the germs in Central Park like a pro. We couldn't be more proud.