The House is on Fire

It's official. The Finchers are settled in California.

This past weekend marked a landmark event, the first (of what I hope will be many) party in our home. We are finally to the point where we wanted to show it off a little and welcome new friends to our lives, Fincher style! It was a nice walk down memory lane; I was able to think back to all the parties we hosted at our home in Columbus, Ohio and feel like this was the start of a new chapter with similar fun to come.

I can't count the number of "gatherings" we hosted at our old home on Bricker Blvd. There was always food (LOTS and LOTS of Jeremy's food) and this first California party was no exception. We decided to go with a gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches (better than the Philly cheese steaks for those who can remember the cloud of smoke we spent the evening in and minus the stove fire, a secret between Jeremy and Sarah) and it was fantastic! From a simple basil pesto and mozzarella to the more inventive caramelized onion and rum jam with bacon and Gruyere cheese, it was all a tasty treat. It was great to have people clustered around the island building sandwiches and relationships.

There were always... LOUD NOISES! On Bricker Blvd. those loud noises usually consisted of a Buckeyes football game combined with heated philosophical discussions, rants about annoying profs and review of canine anatomy or the endocrine system or just general merriment. Four years later, across the country, the noises were a little different, but just as comforting and enjoyable. Noah was leading his new little friends on runs up and down the hall with shrieks of glee. The grill was sizzling, conversations ranged from wedding stories to postpartum emotional roller coasters (scaring all those soon to be dads!) to job satisfaction.

Although I miss those friends of old and wish for the country to fold in half and put Ohio and California closer on the map, it felt nice to host. I am excited to host again (Rowan's big ONE will be next... can't believe my little squish is already so close to one!) and continue to develop these friendships.

Stay tuned for more adventures of the California Finchers... the Holidays are here and we set off for Tennessee next week. It will be Noah's first experience as a ticketed passenger and he will have his Thomas the Train roller bag in hand and puppy backpack over his shoulder (who am I kidding? Mommy's wearing a backpack and Daddy's carrying a train), sure to be a great time (especially for the parents who won't have a 30 pounder in their laps for a 5 hour flight). Happy Thanksgiving, friends!

What do you want to be when you grow up?

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a veterinarian; my parents and family can attest to that. I dabbled for about 6 hours in human medicine but decided I wouldn't enjoy the "bureaucracy" of it (amusing since I joined the MILITARY and worked for the Government), the insurance, the PEOPLE (I have realized they're what makes my job fun and challenging) and the lack of fuzzy critters (except for the occasional fuzzy human and lets be honest, no one wants to deal with that!). So, I "wanted to be a veterinarian when I grow up". What happened between then and now?

Enter the Army. I joined largely for financial reasons, it was a good deal, half my school loans in exchange for 3 years of service. I also joined with starry eyes full of exotic locations... Germany, Italy... Kansas? We all know how that turned out! I joined also for a desire to further public health and help people. What I got was not all bad but certainly did not fulfill my naive expectations. I will say, however, that I gained a number of important skills that I may or may not have otherwise developed. I have always possessed some leadership capabilities but they usually took a backseat to being liked and avoiding conflict. I will still do my best to skitter around a good skirmish, but I believe I learned to diplomatically, with a firm but kind attitude, basically tell people what to do (I say this recognizing that some of those people I "learned" these skills with will read this and may disagree, if you do, please let me know so I can change my self perception, no hard feelings!).

Move on to California. Over the last 4 months, I have submitted my resume to countless practices around the Bay Area. I've had a fair number of interviews and a fair number of hospitals simply ignore my initiative. I must admit I've run an emotional gauntlet through the entire process. At first, when I wasn't getting many call backs, I felt rejected and simply not good enough. I thought maybe no one wanted a vet like me who had never really tasted private practice. I thought maybe, based on my resume, I wasn't even worth a call back. Then, I would get a string of calls and a number of interviews only to be told, "gee, we like you, but we really need someone full time". So my emotions moved onto confusion; do they really think I'm worthwhile and they'd love MORE of me than I'm willing to offer or are they just a little kinder in their method of rejection? Then, another string of no responses.

The final batch of interviews offered the biggest challenge yet to my delicate psyche (its not really so delicate, I'm tough, but for the sake of the story...). I was offered positions at two , practices and possibly a spay/neuter clinic (none of whom was that perfect one I'd been saving myself for) and waiting to hear from a fourth whose owner had thoroughly impressed me at the interview and made me really crave the opportunity to work with him. From what he expressed at the interview he thought I was no slouch either! I was elated; thrilled at the possibilities but nervous that they may find someone else. The email finally came from my top choice that simply said "we'll call you for relief in the future". What? I'm a reasonably smart lady and I realize that means that I didn't get the job, but come on, lets be clear, people! No need to dance around the real subject of the email, "You're not hired.". That one threw me for a loop, making me angry that the practice owner had gotten my hopes all up and frustrated at the poor communication style of the practice manager. In retrospect, perhaps I'm thankful that I didn't get the job.

So, I decided to accept a position at a clinic that is opening up in my very own town. Its not perfect, only one day a week as of now. One of my real desires in private practice is to really dedicate myself to a practice and its clientele and form long, quality relationships. How will I do that only once a week? I continue to do relief work for a practice about 25 minutes away, further failing to build those relationships that I so desperately seek.

I realize the theme here has been largely negative so here's the pick-me-up. I had an epiphany this past weekend. I worked Saturday at the relief practice and had such a good time stretching my brain. I enjoyed helping "Barney's" mom figure out what was wrong and how to fix it. I enjoyed checking over "Nina" and giving the good news that she appears to be in perfect health and encouraging her continued vaccination. I felt "Roxy's" mom's grief as we, together, decided to offer her the final comfort we are able to provide to an ailing canine or feline friend. I enjoyed being a veterinarian. I didn't need to be full time. I didn't need to know these people and their pets for years on end to provide quality care.

I realized that everything will eventually fall into place but for now;

I want to be a veterinarian when I grow up.

Reward Offered for Missing Child

I am inserting this small disclaimer at the beginning of the post; I wrote this in the midst of a particularly trying day. Since, we've had several great days that have reminded me of why I love my little man.

Months have passed and life continues. I love spending time at home with my boys, but lately I've been feeling my patience run a little thin (especially with a certain red headed 2 year old). What's happened, I ask myself? Do I only enjoy motherhood up to a certain age? Have I hit my limit and from the age of 2 years and 3 months on, my children will consistently make me want to pull my hair from my head, strand by tiny strand (yes, at times, dealing with this 2 year old is that tedious and... itchy?)?

I hear "mama." "mama." "mama?" "MAMA!" over and over and the only way to make it stop (and even then, only for brief moments) is to stop whatever I am doing and look at him to be shown something in grunts and a very extensive array of hand motions (yeah, still no significant step on the words but he has created quite a non-verbal "sign language").

I feel like we're close to some potty victory; Noah wears big boy underwear and consistently catches himself and comes to peepee in the potty with only a tiny leak into the undies. THEN, without any discernible reason, he's asked if he needs to potty, says "no", then 5 minutes later proceeds to SOAK his undies and pants. And does it repeatedly. It doesn't take long for me to throw my arms in the air in frustration and strap him into a jumbo sized cloth diaper.

I watch darling little Rowan sitting on the floor, quietly playing, or crawling to get a toy and I watch Noah walk over and push him down or squish him or simply snatch the toy from his hand (now, to Noah's credit, he often provides a toy to "trade", but still!). Rowan cries. I tell Noah to give the toy back, or stop squashing and he ignores me for the first 2 times. Mommy gets angry and gives her meanest mom "look" ( I credit the possession of that particular skill to my own mother) and says through gritted teeth, "NOW.". Noah cries.

I ask myself, what happened to my sweet little red head? I know deep down the answer is that he turned 2 and is aging normally but its hard to imagine that these "episodes " will ever stop! I presume this frustration has been experienced by all mothers at sometime and they are all still alive (and more importantly, their children are alive). So, I persevere. Will I survive? I bet I will. Will Noah? Most certainly.

Five years is an eternity...

Five Years. When I think of five years, I think, "wow, that's a long time!". Vet school, one of the biggest commitments of my life, was only four years, so five MUST be like an eternity! Jeremy and I just celebrated our fifth anniversary, and though at times, five years has indeed felt like an eternity, in the long run, I realize its just the beginning of what is going to be a long and beautiful (and sometimes trying) adventure.

We spent our anniversary day with a free pass to do with as we pleased. In order to try out a daycare provider, we dropped the kids off and enjoyed our day of freedom. We saw a movie (The Rise of the Planet of the Apes, shockingly good), ate two meals out (IHOP and P.F. Changs) and wandered through some stores without the concern of Mr. Grabby Hands (Noah) striking and both kids getting sick of the confinement of a buggy and filling the aisles with shrieks. It was heavenly! As much as we love our munchkins, we realized that enjoying life as a couple is vital to the health of our marriage.

That being said, those munchkins have enriched our lives beyond what we could have ever imagined. It's so much fun to know that they both contain pieces of us and to watch them grow and change so quickly! If Rowan continues developing at what seems lightning speed, he'll be chasing after Noah in no time. It seems like just yesterday he was in the stage that I refer to as "the lump". In the last 3 weeks he's gained the ability to sit up on his own, roll all over the house (and shout and holler when he is obstructed by pesky furniture) and has found his voice. This morning we had the pleasure of listening to him "talk" to himself in his room for a good 20 minutes before he insisted upon his freedom from the crib!

Rowan is still an incredibly pleasant baby, hopefully he'll learn to stand up to the onslaught that always comes from Noah's direction. Its seems like a clique, but holy moly, that child is "All Boy!". It would be a shame if I didn't enjoy a good tub cleaning, because he leaves a ring after one bath after all the dirt he accumulates during the day. I know I've referred to it in other posts, but it never ceases to amaze me how boys are.

Speaking of how boys are, although this side note is totally out of place in my reflective post, I feel that it will allow for some laughter and how can I miss out on that opportunity? We've recently begun potty-training Noah and found he's already house-trained! Yes, that's right, house trained. When we pull off his pants to head to the toilet, he seizes the opportunity to run out to the back yard. Apparently he's watched Bentley utilize the grass facilities often enough that's he's decided that is where he should empty his bladder, too. I have chased him multiple times, only to arrive and find him making pee-pee in the grass (in a dog-like squat, no less), right where Bentley likes to. Hilarious, but not exactly what we're looking for. It might be cute now, but as he grows, I don't imagine that it'll be socially acceptable to pull down his trousers and go when the dogs do. See, worth the funny, huh? :)

Back to more serious things...

As we enter into the second half of our first decade, we do so a little wiser. My hopes for the upcoming years are many. I hope that we can make a real effort to retain some time for ourselves, as individuals and as a couple. I hope that we can impart upon our children a joy for life and learning. I hope that we can take this house we've already invested so much time, money and energy in, and make it a home. I hope that we can fill our days and evenings with fun and make memories for ourselves and our children that will last a lifetime.

The Fincher Family Inn is Officially In Business!

Our guest room is done (minus a coat of paint, but good luck painting with a two year old around!) and has been graced by our first visitors since its completion (I promise that pictures will eventually be posted!). Our dear friends from up north spent a week at The Fincher Family Inn and helped us to really explore the city we now call home! It is such a rich, lively place, FULL of fantastic events and locations.

It all started with a drive to Monterey, CA for a visit to the famous aquarium. It was a awesome place, and to tempt any visitors, we went ahead and purchased a family pass that allows our visitors to attend without cost! Between shaking in fear of the octopus and touching the slimy sting rays, Noah discovered a love of fish. The little boy who never stops moving actually paused for minutes to gaze and squeal at the schools swarming about our heads in gigantic tanks. From the aquarium, we continued the coastal tour with a stop at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. After a delicious dinner (of fish and chips, naturally), we strolled the pier to see the sea lions basking and barking below. As a special treat, the pelicans were on parade and we enjoyed watching them nip at Jeremy's fingers and snack on fisher men's bait. It was a late night, but the P.J. trick worked like a charm (I have my Ohio cousins to thank for that one!); get them dressed for bed and make a quick transfer from car to bed, golden!

The tour of the beautiful bay continued the next day at Muir Woods, home of the California Redwoods. Suffice it to say, its shocking to look at these enormous trees (that we can fit the ENTIRE Fincher family inside of, and we aren't a tiny people!) and try to think back to their start as saplings. Some are hundreds of years old, well before a time I can even imagine. Its amazing that, given time, what can come from something so small. Makes me think about our kids and what they have the potential to become. They can be anything they want, given the right nurturing and encouragement, and that is an exciting thought for a new mom.

In the midst of all the fun touring and visiting, I had the exciting experience of working a day in a civilian practice! It was my first time since becoming a DVM that I really got to have the feeling of what my TRUE working passion is! Since that day, the practice let me know that they really want a full time individual and since I'm unwilling to commit to that amount of time, I'm not the candidate for them. I was a little disappointed, but I continue the job search knowing (as my mom says) that something more perfect is out there waiting just for me! I got a call yesterday from one clinic, but I don't believe it will be the place for me. The hours and pay are fantastic, but it doesn't see any in depth medicine and doesn't have the capability to do so at all. I feel that it would be very similar to my veterinary experience in the Army and since one (among MANY!) of the reasons I left was to be able to experience more in-depth medicine, I don't want to settle just so I can feel like I'm doing something. So, the search continues...

Speaking of doing something... after a few days of relaxing at home the touristing reconvened at Fisherman's Wharf. Its a bustling place, all shiny and blinkey, just for the tourists. The carousel doesn't play music and the sea lions stink to high heaven and the fudge wasn't great... I decided I prefer the more natural beauties of the Bay Area such as trees and fish (in glass boxes that contain any odor). Anyone who knows me well, knows that I prefer good food anywhere I can get it, so we enjoyed a delicious lunch at Boudin, the famous SF Sourdough bread bakery, of clam chowder in giant bread bowls (worth the drive and blinking!)!

The remainder of the visit was spent with quality time visiting, men playing video games and children running amok!

The Fincher Family Inn is in business and welcoming all visitors... the next reservation is Gram and Pop and we can't wait! Book your visit now!

Who needs sleep?

After a successful trip to Tennessee, we're back on the West side of the Continental US and getting back into a routine. If only that routine included a full night of sleep! Rowan is growing leaps and bounds, showing off his new moves daily. Apparently in order to do these things, he has started to require some breaks from a full night's sleep for chow. I apparently became very spoiled by his record breaking 11-13 hours of sleep at night and can't quite seem to get on board with midnight snacks. And let me tell you, this child is not to be left wanting in the food department, a wailing will ensue and will not be silenced by anything but a full belly! He's started eating rice cereal in Tennessee and I think we'll be adding some goodies to that to keep little Rowan satisfied (albeit slowly to put off the inevitable arrival of real boy diapers).

In addition to Rowan's first "solid" (if I can even call it that) meal in Tennessee, he experienced his first boat ride, first swim and first 4th of July. He had no better luck than his mom, dad, or Uncle with getting up on water skis (haha kidding, we don't let our kids water ski until they're two!). When I last skied, it was about 7 years ago and I remember it being fairly easy. Not the case now; whether its that I'm close to entering the "30s" and my poor old body can't handle it or simply a lack of memory as to the basics of letting a boat pull you out of water at a burst of 30mph speed on skinny pieces of wood while you try to (a.) keep your shoulders in the socket and (b.) not drink a gallon of lake water at each attempt, I'll never know.

Speaking of the old body not being what it used to, I received a friendly reminder prior to traveling back East that I am no longer 20 years old. During a visit to the Alameda County Fair, I spotted a mechanical bull, prime for the riding! Now, I have always wanted to try out the bull, figuring that I should have quite the talent for it, given my equestrian background and peak physical condition (did I mention I'm close to 30 and have now brought two delightful children into the world, one a mere 5 months ago?). So, naturally, it made total sense to climb on and shoot for those "8 seconds"! With my loving family looking on, I mounted the bull and had at it! Of course, I made it through all the operator could throw at me and climbed off, successful (as opposed to landed on my duff, that would have been unsuccessful). The success ended there. I barely made it to the car given the pain shooting through my thighs and arms. That resolved quickly enough, but now, nearly 3 weeks later, I still feel the twinge that developed in my lower back when I bend over to drop the kiddos in bed. It pains me to not be 20 anymore... when will my back stop hurting?

While I'm discussing dishing out the hurt...why do little boys feel the need to punch, kick, yell at and throw everything in site? My darling little Noah, still one of the sweetest little boys you'll ever meet, has recently begun personifying the old rhyme about snails and puppy dog tails. Even his efforts to love on his little brother tend to be on the violent end of things, a squishing hug or even a tight grip on the wrist to show little brother how to hit things himself! I envision the my battle cries of "don't throw that at the dogs!", "don't hit the wall with that!", and "why are you dropping elbows on daddy!?" will not end when the terrible twos do.

So, life carries on. We're getting used to (and loving) the cool, humid-free life in California and I'm enjoying not working. And now that we've moved somewhere that has shopping nearby as well as friends (FRIENDS!!), the boys and I are keeping busy during the day learning the way around the playgrounds and parks. Today, we braved a walk with Noah in the stroller, Rowan in the Baby Bjorn carrier and a dog in each hand. No one got loose, no one cried (not even Mommy!) and everyone was tuckered out when we arrived safely home. A successful journey... stay tuned for more!

Being Unemployed is Bad for the Finances

Well, the move is complete and the real work is beginning. The Fincher's boxes are unpacked and the work of putting together a home begins. Having only ever rented an essentially "ready to go" home, the thought of installing fans, window treatments and shower curtains never occurred to me until we spent our first couple weeks in our front room watching TV while squinting against the glare of the setting sun. However, it's not as simple as slapping up a few of those thin metal curtain rods with whatever hunk of fabric blocks the light, this is our home and suddenly these little decisions become increasingly weighty. Thus why we've been here nearly a month and have only now decided on curtain rods that fit our vision!

Speaking of the sun, we LOVE it (nice segue, right?). Until the recent heat wave (which, by the way, makes me feel very tricked! I thought NorCal was supposed to be a cool breezy 70 degrees all summer; what gives?) its been an absolute treat to just sit out in our reasonably sized back yard and play with the hose or throw rocks into the baby pool. The dogs have adjusted to life in California and embraced their "inner hunter". A pair of big blue birds (with big scary beaks, have I mentioned that I really am not a bird person?) had a nest in one of our trees and last week their fledglings set out into the big world of our backyard. The next several days were spent enduring the harsh squawks of those birds as they attempted to protect their babies from our vicious Golden Retriever who I caught tossing them around the yard (gently, mind you, she has a retriever mouth). Suffice it to say the squawking has ceased but since I found no sad little bird bodies, I assume they found their wings and made it to a safer place.

Our eldest baby bird has also taken quite a leap (though I fear not to safer territory) into his 2's! It's near impossible to remember Noah as tiny as my sweet Rowan, where has the time gone? Its not so terrible thus far (its been, officially, one whole day!), but he can throw quite the impressive tantrum. That ability, combined with the fact that about 98% of his world is defined, in his language, as "DOH" and "ish" (yeah, he's not so much with the words), we can have some pretty frustrating exchanges in the Fincher house. Fortunately for little Noah, his mommy speaks "Noah-ese" fluently (and maybe that's part of the delay).

I imagine by now, the reader is wondering when I'll get to the title topic: my lack of employment. I suppose that technically I am still employed with the US Army until midnight June 23, so I can't be called "unemployed" yet. However, I am quickly realizing that in addition to not bringing in any cash I have oodles more time to spend. At the moment I've blamed the holes in my pockets on the fact that its a new home (our home) and there's an upcoming vacation that we simply must have the right wardrobe for. We're getting into dangerous territory here! That being said, I am really enjoying the time to get settled and really enjoy my kids without the stresses of my job constantly interfering. (Warning: another BUT is on the way) But, I have realized in a very short time not working that I really do enjoy working. I enjoy the adult interaction on technical subjects and enjoy thinking about something outside the realm of home. It adds a little extra spice to my life. Aside from that, I've never been one to take advantage of a "sugar daddy"... well, maybe just this once, for a few months!

A Blizzard in May... the move Cross-Country Continues

Here's part two of the journey. Not nearly so dramatic and emotionally evocative but still sull of surprises . There was a lot more laughter and enjoyment on our part between Denver and San Francisco.

As we set out Saturday morning, two dogs, two adults and a little baby in a van stressing the bounds of it suspension, our spirits were high. We ascended the Rockies and saw some of the most beautiful sights I believe we will ever see. The mountains were, to be a walking cliche, breathtaking. I don't even know how to describe it otherwise. It was a fantastic drive! We saw some snow, but the temperature was a balmy 60 degrees and very pleasant. I enjoy the focus required to drive in mountains, although it does make my close examination of the scenery a bit more daring!

As we set out to enter the longest stretch of unserviced highway, we decided to fill up the gas tank to ensure that we didn't have any issue over the 106 mile stretch of nothing. Low and behold, Jeremy turns the key after the fill up... and the battery is dead. Since nothing stops the Finchers and since we always make the best of things, Rowan decided to have an earth-shattering, clothes- destroying bowel movement to make the best of the delay. Why just sit around in the hot van when you can fully experience a truck stop bathroom changing table?

The unserviced highway on I-70 turned out to be a busy thoroughfare compared to the desolate road we would travel on Sunday. As we set out onto the 2 lane road in Utah it began to rain, then the rain turned to sleet, which, soon, turned to snow. And when I say snow, I don't mean a flurry, I mean a full on, you better drive 25 mph (and that's slow for a northern Ohio native), snow. I proceeded to drive about 6 hours through Utah and Nevada in an all out blizzard! When we stopped for lunch, I in my capris and Jeremy in his crocs with no socks, my internal thermostat was VERY confused. What kind of place allows snow in May, almost June? I had mocked Jeremy's travel emergency kit which included space man thermal blankets (but incidentally, no jumper cables or fix a flat) but had we broken down, you wouldn't have been able to pry those shiny silver insulators away from me!

At the end of Sunday, we arrived at our new home in Newark California, looking forward to living the next six days with 2 camp chairs and a cardboard box for furniture. A part of me wishes we still had only that one cardboard box, instead of some 160 boxes scattered around the house.

Now, another week later, the move is almost complete, only a few more boxes to empty and a new routine to establish in sunny California.

Moving Cross Country with Two... wait, one?, no, Two Dogs.

Since the journey from Kansas to California turned out to be so eventful, I decided to blog this baby in several parts.

We actually set out on time after my final appointment at AG on Fort Leavenworth (which was totally unexpected, the Army defines the "hurry up and wait" mentality). I was teary as I said that final good-bye to all the people I'd worked with over the last three years. Maybe I was also a little teary anticipating the 1800 mile drive in a van packed to the hilt, who knows?

The drive across Kansas that Thursday was uneventful and we pulled in to the La Quinta Inn by the Denver airport late in the evening. After a really awful steak from the Outback (that Jeremy, my white knight, traded me for) we had a decent night sleep, thanks to the sound machine that blocked all the weird hotel noises that made our dogs woof and growl. Friday morning started without incident until I asked Jeremy to take the dogs out to the giant field (we didn't know truly how giant at this point) behind our hotel for a game of fetch before another 9 hours in the car. I had no sooner climbed out of the the shower than I got a phone call from Jeremy (7:46am, exactly). He said, " I need you, asap"! I threw on clothes and ran out barefoot to fine him leashing Bentley back up, tossing me the leash and saying, "Nessa took off, I need to catch her". Our wimp of a dog had been terrified by a garbage truck picking up a dumpster.

Bentley and I jogged back into the hotel and I finished getting dressed, strapped Rowan in the Baby Bjorn and the three of us headed back out to help with the search. After about an hour of traipsing through the old sunflower field wrought with pricklers (which latched onto Bentley's feet and my clothes and skin), we re-grouped, still without our dumb blonde dog. Jeremy kept up the search and I returned to the hotel to give Bentley's pads a break and start the process of putting out the word that our dog was missing.

Amidst my recurring tears, I called Home Again who faxed a lost poster to all the animal organizations in a 20 mile radius and posted a Craig's List ad. Jeremy returned and we decided visit to the nearby farms to get people on the look-out and cruise the highway looking for her sad little body (figured, hey, better to confirm the worst than just to FEAR it). After she'd been missing for about 3 hours I felt utterly hopeless. The pessimist in me had decided that we simply weren't going to find our Nessa. I felt that we had failed her; I was finally experiencing that panic that pet owners feel when their beloved friends go missing. We committed to caring for her and should have kept her safe, but instead, she was, for all I knew, wandering the city of Denver alone and scared and, as Nessa always is, hungry.

Although I was feeling largely negative and sad, there were bright points of hope that kept springing up. Jeremy was dedicated to doing all the he could to find her. He made and printed posters and distributed them to all the near-by hotels and businesses and spent nearly 8 hours that day walking that enormous field. A dear woman who happened to be applying for a job that day, saw our poster and called me and committed to joining the search by hanging posters in her near-by neighborhood and offering to keep Nessa when she was found if we had been forced to continue our journey without her. My wonderful friends, thousands of miles East put out their feelers and posted pictures of adorable, stupid Nessa on Facebook. Everywhere I looked, people were encouraging us, helping however they could, and being generally kind.

Jeremy embarked on one more walk-thru before darkness fell while Rowan, Bentley and I sat in the hotel room, waiting on a call from SOMEone that Nessa had been found. My phone rang Jeremy's special ring around 6:30pm and I answered in the dejected tone that had become the day's mantra, expecting him to say he was returning for the night, empty handed. I was totally taken off guard to hear, "We're a two dog family again, hon!"! Apparently Nessa had holed up about 3/4 mile across the field near a barn. How unlikely, we had found our needle in the haystack.

We can't go any further west without falling in the ocean.

Here we go... Meg Fincher is starting a blog; I feel so hip and technological! I share my friend's sentiment about the pressure he felt in starting this endeavor. I feel I should be clever, funny and informative. I'm not to be counted on to be these things all the time, so instead of trying to perform, I'm going to use this as a means for keeping all our family and friends up to date on the exciting times in the Fincher family while we live 2,500 miles across the continental United States. Additionally, I plan to use it as a way to sort through the musings of my everyday life.

At this moment, I'm sitting at my kitchen table watching strangers wrap all our earthly belongings in paper and throw them in boxes. In 3 days, Jeremy and I, with 4 month old Rowan, Bentley and Nessa in tow, start the 31 hour drive to our new home in Newark California. I feel like my family is scattered across the country with two year old Noah spending this time with his Gram and Pop in Tennessee (can you imagine a 4 day drive with a two year old... yeah, shudder to think!) and Lu (the cat) holding down the fort in California.

I wonder, how did we end up here? I never imagined, when the Army sent us to Fort Leavenworth (much to our dismay) in middle of nowhere Kansas, that at the end of my commitment we'd head even further west and end up in California, on the cutting edge of "culture".

I look forward to settling down and being a family again, since Jeremy's been living in California since last July after being hired on with Google. However, I am not without apprehension. It is always stressful to relocate, let alone to somewhere so foreign to me as California. What will it be like? Will I miss the friendly nature of mid-westerners? Will I like the fast-paced life in California? How will it be, living in a home we OWN, will everything that can go wrong happen, just like in the movies? So many changes happening at one time, it's more than a little overwhelming.

While I'm excited to be leaving the Army (SO excited!) and starting this new adventure, I will certainly miss the people I've met in Leavenworth who have helped me develop into the person I am today. I will continue to miss those that I left in Ohio 3 years ago and the family who has taken up residence in Tennessee since then. It'll be interesting to see what the West Coast has in store.