Our move is complete, at long long last. Nothing like a series of last minute complications to add unnecessary stress to an already anxiety producing time. By Wednesday afternoon we were fully and completely out of the Shirley house. This was delayed with last minute well water treatments and hours of vandalism trash clean up, but still, it happened. Huge thanks to Alysa for entertaining the kids, shoveling trash, and equipping us with a vandal deterrent vehicle. There is no way we would have made it out without her help.

The past few days have been a balance between unpacking and exploring with kids. Our days are filled with lazy breakfasts in the cockpit, visiting playgrounds, and talking about all the boats we see. We’ve shared breakfast with our neighbors, Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack, And Mrs. Mallard. Turns out they are fans of Cheerios.

Kinsley is, in her two year old way, learning the routines of marina life. Boat coat on, walk along the dock, stop to name all the boats, stop to look at jellyfish, stop to talk about the colors of ropes, stop to pet the dogs, head up the ramp, boat coat off. It’s a two minute walk that consistently takes ten when Kinsley is along.

Owen and his books are happy to claim space in the v-berth, salon, or cockpit. I can’t just send him outside when he gets too wild but he does have built in monkey bars along the ceiling of the boat, grab rails in case of rolling seas. So far he claims he likes boat life better than house life but that might have something to do with the frequency of our ice cream trips.

The cats are exploring and, if anything, more friendly and social than there were when living on land. Wendy has found secret ways into cabinets and Peter sprawls on my bed, or Owen’s, or the couch, or the floor, or the stairway.

I’m slowly feeling the tension drain out of me. One car, one home, possessions that fit in the back of a van with plenty of room to spare, family close to me, life is good.