tiny kelsie

creative endeavors & the exploration that fuels them


Connecti-WHAT?

Forgive me for the radio silence.

Turns out, my husband’s position is moving to New York. I couldn’t talk about it publicly until some things transpired within his company. Because the impending move was taking up most, if not all, of my brain space during the past few months, I just held back on blogging at all. Full disclosure–it was probably for the best. I was an emotional mess through most of this process.

I spent an embarrassing amount of time looking at potential condos in the city, painstakingly researched public schools, argued against suburban living to my husband countless times while looking up homes in the suburbs (along with train commute times, quality of public schools)  and went through various stages of grief as I mourned the expectations I had for the next few years to come–all before taking a flight there and determining where we would like to live.

Then, we took Tobias to NYC.

We had a great time; don’t get me wrong. Once my heart stopped beating because he walked under someone’s elbows in the Hershey store and was where I couldn’t find him, being a parent to a free range kid in the most crowded city in the nation seemed like a less-than-ideal situation for us. When my romanticized outings to Central Park were shattered by my fears of international human traffickers every.single.time. he was playing out of my sight, I began to realize that though I had focused on teaching my child independence, that would have to be unlearned to suit that city. Parenting is hard enough as it is without going back and trying to undo, or the extra weight of having to lug a child around on public transport for each little errand. I applaud those who get it all done.

In the days that followed, we, along with a rental car-and, at times, a friend as our guide- explored the tri-state area. One day, in Brooklyn, the following, New Jersey: Hoboken, Weehawken, Ridgewood, Montclair, Maplewood, Milburn, Mountain Lakes, Parsippany. The final day led us through Connecticut: Stamford, Westport, Fairfield and Westchester, New York: Hastings-on-Hudson, Dobb’s Ferry.

I abandoned all of the stereotypes that had me reluctant to move to states other than NY or to the suburbs in general, and we took detailed notes on what we saw. At the end of those two days, we agreed what our top three were.

After coming back home, a lot of thought and more thorough research, we decided the beach town of Fairfield, Connecticut would be where we’d find the lifestyle we desire. Last week, we were there for a few days with a realtor, and I might’ve fallen head-over-heels for a house.

No, it’s not New York City, and that type of lifestyle that you imagine comes with it. If we were without kids, it would be a different story. But, this is our story.



14 responses to “Connecti-WHAT?”

  1. […] When I wrote that post, I didn’t realize that I’d be on the other side of the planet for my honeymoon to Japan and The Philippines, then recovering from it, for the entire month of April. I didn’t realize that my husband’s job would be transferring to New York City, or that I’d go through depression over the continuous life-change limbo that it created and an obsession with searching for real estate in the entire Tri-State Area before finding home in Connecticut. […]

  2. […] that in less than a month’s time, we’ll be saying goodbye to our old home and hello to New England, I’m feeling all of the nostalgic […]

  3. […] people putting on this race were excellent-helpful and kind, but even if I wasn’t moving to Connecticut, I likely wouldn’t do this race again. It was far too rough on my […]

  4. […] finally moved into our Connecticut home. It’s been a long time coming, as we first learned about the possibility of moving to the […]

  5. […] our move to the East Coast, we had to do some downsizing. While we had two living areas in our first house in Texas, we now […]

  6. […] used that phrase since the feature came out, but something simple I did once we discovered we were moving to Connecticut was plug in Facebook’s search box, “friends who live in Connecticut” and […]

  7. […] found that when I first moved to Connecticut, I was hiding myself. I saw the type of women that inspired a television show (now airing) about […]

  8. […] thought, for a time, that my anxiety began when I moved to Connecticut. And, if that was the case, it would pass once I made some new friends. I didn’t know where I […]

  9. […] lives. I admit, I knew this wasn’t our forever home. When we sold our first home in Texas and moved to Connecticut, I became a bit more realistic about my expectations about how long I would live in one […]

  10. […] to be open, frank, and vulnerable when blogging. Then I let the anxiety that I experienced upon moving get to me. I let social media get to me. I underestimated the identity crisis I would have once I […]

  11. […] prior to moving in. We lived there for a little over three years, decided we were moving to Connecticut, then I shared a before and after of our first […]

  12. […] upon a two day fine arts festival in Westport, the town that neighbors ours. We’ve lived in Connecticut for nearly eight years but this is the first we’ve heard of the festival, likely since it takes […]

  13. […] an earlier visit to this space, when I had more recently moved to Connecticut, I was walking up to the area, and some kids with fishing rods sticking out of their backpacks rode […]

  14. […] years ago, new to Connecticut, I spoke about my crippling social anxiety. Those who encounter me now would be astonished to learn […]

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About Me

I’m an artist. Sometimes I paint impressionist townscapes in oils, other times I sketch out what I’d rather be painting in pencil. I design intentional environments in my home, and sometimes I get around to projects that the design consists of. I flip thrifted clothes, or I let ideas pile up like used fabrics overflowing from a box in my basement. This is a metaphor, but also a fact.
I’m a writer. Sometimes that means bad poetry. I often meander in my prose, as I find it hard not to mention every detail, what something reminds me of, and all of the background information you could never want.
I’m an explorer. Sometimes I explore the great outdoors, or other countries. Other times, my nose deep in a book, I’m exploring the universal human experience, nature science, ancient wisdom and impacts of colonialism. Often, I’m exploring my own inner experience through train-of-thought journaling.

I’m restless in my curiosity and consistently creative. To an outsider, it’s clear that leading a creative life involves output: paintings, outfits, decor, a garden. The creative knows that this output requires a frequent stream and synthesis of that input. This blog is the space I use to organize and sort my meandering thoughts and pile of ideas.

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