Cha-cha-changes (plus: a new toy!)

It's official.  We've been talking about moving to Denver since, well, our third or fourth date, and the countdown to our DC departure has begun:  we will say sayonara on March 1.  I'm still getting used to the idea of leaving the East Coast, my home for the past 6 years and Armando's home for the past 20-odd years.  There may be some culture shock upon leaving the land of Politico, curving parkways, $20 martinis, marble monuments and five-hour traffic jams, and we're definitely going to miss it.  Especially our East Coast family, made up of dozens of dear friends that we've made along the way.  Yet we are ready for a change, and ready to raise Anika and any future siblings in an environment of fresh air, mountains, and that laid-back western mentality.  Plus, you all like to ski, right?  We are expecting lots of guests!

So, the moving madness has begun.  Armando is working to get arrangements in place to make the transition as smooth as possible for his business, while I'm spending lots of time on the phone and online with insurance brokers, moving companies and the like, collecting piles of research for us to use to make decisions such as:  U-Haul or U-Pack?  Keep or toss?  PPO or HMO?  Arm and leg, or firstborn child?  (don't get me started on health care reform, either, or I will be tempted to pull out my own teeth and beat myself silly as a more palatable alternative).

I'm also starting to wander around the apartment and wonder how we have accumulated so much stuff.  Those of you that have seen our place know that we live fairly lightly, at least compared to most, but it's still a boatload of stuff for two (now three!) people, especially considering that I haven't lived in the same abode for more than a year since the 1990s.  And then there was that whole flood in Armando's last apartment thing, which means that he travels really lightly, even for a guy.  (When we first met, he had a ginormous flat-screen TV, a ramshackle Ikea bed, and two red plates.  I'm not kidding.)

Anika, meanwhile, remains blissfully unaware of the impending change.  She's getting sweeter, cuter, and chubbier by the second, and is growing up before our very eyes.  The other day I realized that she gets bored just looking at my crazy face all day, so we made the trip to Buy Buy Baby (yes, that's the name and yes, I appreciate their upfront admittance of what they're really after) and bought one of those floor mat things with a toy bar that hangs overhead.

She. Is. Absolutely. In. Awe.  She coos, she smiles, she makes little noises that sound like a baby hawk, and she does that Stevie Wonder thing with her head, shifting back and forth to some unheard musical track.

Witness exhibits A, B and C.

Also, I have finally captured on camera that look of pure adoration, awe and a touch of amusement that she is constantly showering on her daddy:

And, just for fun, I will leave you with a few smiles:

The "sh*t" grin, courtesy of her Grandpa Schultz's genes

The "awe, mama, you're so silly" grin

The "I love it when my tummy is full and I'm chillin' on the couch with my parents" smile