The journey continues.

Well, the moving continues, and as we continue to set up our new home, we are reminded of the tension we experienced 3 years ago when we set up our apartment. Jonathan and I have fairly different tastes...but we both have strong opinions. Somehow I thought I was going to escape some of the decorating ideas we had in the apartment and this time around would be smooth. Ha. Yesterday we unrolled a rug that my mom generously donated to the house fund, and as I smiled proudly a look of utter disgust came over Jonathan's face. I burst out laughing because this new rug (that replaced one I HATE that he had recruited from other avenues) just happened to be one of my favorites from my mom's collection. Imagine my surprise when Jonathan described it as "flowers that vomited themselves everywhere." I quickly pointed out that the rug he liked so much (that has currently been moved to the kitchen) was also composed of flowers--nasty ones at that--and this one was paisley as well. He looked at me in awe and said, "So you are going to tell me that you REALLY like this rug??" I think he thought I was kidding because we had already had a rough day as far as agreeing had gone. Unfortunately for him, I was 100% genuine. Unfortunately for me, so was he. As the disagreements mounted (such as whether a piece of artwork hanging over the edge of the floating fireplace is artistic and ok if symmetrical or a really, unbelievably bad idea) we met the most true exchange of the afternoon. Jonathan finally asked me, "Why can't you just let me decorate and go along with everything?" I was relieved to have that question in the air because I whined it right back at him. In my misery I wondered why I am married to a man that actually does care instead of a blockhead that wouldn't dare question my decorating authority. Of course the catch to it all is the fact that Jonathan DOES care is what makes him so attractive in the first place. I would hate a blockhead. I just, in my stubborn, self-righteous ways want what he cares about to be exactly what I like. OH, ladies and gentlemen, the second "C" word of marriage rears its ugly head: Compromise. (the first is communication if you are wondering). So, currently the plan is to find new rugs that we both like to replace the one I love and the one he loves. Of course I still naively hope he will "come around" on the rug I like, but I am sure he is hoping the same of me. I think we both have our heels dug pretty far in the ground on this one. Until we find those rugs (and the prioritization of money for them), one room remains tasteful to me, and one room remains tasteful to him.

The one fact we can agree on is how the decor of our house is currently nothing short of schizophrenic. As we transition from "college meets one bedroom apartment" to "we want a more sophisticated home," we are struggling to incorporate all of our pieces and the pieces we hope to purchase into a fluid design. The best solution right now seems to be to designate some areas to be more modern than others (our upstairs suite is decorated very modern, while our downstairs bedroom/hall are more classic and have oriental rugs). The true schizophrenia seems to be happening in our living room and office. I know that we will resolve it over time as we settle in and truly evaluate what pieces we like and what pieces we just have because they were previously functional selections.

Have no fear, we came home to the apartment happily married (and apologized) and will continue with the compromise in the coming days. Peacefully. Maturely. (Ok, so we might need a wrestling ring once or twice, but we will call a truce in the end). Regardless, I still wouldn't trade an agreeing man for the one I married.

Josiah has been a trooper through all of the moving. He plays on the floor for a while, but then he ends up wanting our attention and typically ends up on my hip in the sling, watching me put things away. It hasn't been nearly as overwhelming as I thought to move with a baby in tow, but it certainly is more time consuming. We are just surrendered to the idea that he might wear out before we do, and we will have to break to play ticklebug before we are ready. I think it will be easier once we have some of his favorite activities over there, but that includes the exersaucer which takes up WAY too much room in a carload to haul back and forth. Unfortunately we don't think the Johnny Jump-Up will work on any of our large doorframes, which is nothing short of a tragedy. Josiah has been happily jumping in it since I sat down to compose this blog entry. If anyone wants to invent one with a larger clip for wide moulding, I will certainly be the first to buy it.

Josiah's "new" thing has been to spit everywhere. He thinks it is hilarious. Ok, it is hilarious. He puts his tongue behind his gums and blows a modified "raspberry." It makes way more noise than just his lips (and way more saliva). He is also starting to jabber in what sounds like his own baby language rather than just babbling. It is pretty funny, as well. I keep saying that I love the age he is, but as if now more than ever it is a valid statement: I love this "approaching 6 months" age. He is so expressive of all his emotions. He very clearly communicates what he likes and doesn't like, when he is happy and when he is frustrated. He studies people and things with such curiosity, and he giggles when you are funny (or he thinks he is funny himself). He loves to see how you will react to his actions, and nothing gives him greater joy than when he provokes a smile or a laugh from his onlookers. He is teachable; yesterday I pulled out a new activity toy and as he beat on it with his hands I showed him how to move a piece on it. He immediately focused all of his attention and both hands on doing it himself. And he did. He is very eager to prove his maturing motor skills, and he finds himself frustrated at the ones that are tailing behind. He gets very frustrated when he cannot sit up to play with his toys. He doesn't like his back or his tummy as much, and I think he feels he doesn't get full manipulation of his toys that way. He will fuss and fuss until we hold him up in the sitting position or put him in his Bumbo or exersaucer that allow him to do so. He is still doing the tripod stance to sit up by himself, and while he sits proudly he eventually falls to the side or falls forward when he gathers the courage to reach for a toy and compromise his support system. I think his ability to sit will change his life. haha.

It is such a fun yet fleeting season to be in with him. I can't believe how fast it has gone. I haven't been very emotional about the newborns at work, but the other day I had one that had very similar mannerisms to those of Josiah as a newborn. He craned his neck the same way and wore the same smug look. His yawn was the same, too. It made me melt to think that my sweet baby was that tiny only 5 months ago. I want to gather all the days to my chest and hold them tightly in defense of someone stealing them too quickly. Now is certainly the sweetest season of life.