Somewhere in the new parenthood haze of sleeplessness and trying to remember when the last feeding was, The Captain turns to me and says "We should move to Florida." I will admit I originally dismissed the idea. We had a newborn and settled into our live in Chicago. Where would we live? Where would we work? In support of how much this seemed to mean to him, I played along when a job in my field opened at a coveted resort -- with 1 click of a button, I'd applied and assumed that hundreds would have also done the same. A long shot at best, right? Over a month goes by with no word from the employer, and the idea of moving began to subside as we were finally figuring out this parenting gig. Then the call came. Still not too vested in what might be, since, after 4 weeks of on and off communication, I was finally made an offer. Two days prior to my offer, The Captain received an offer of his own. And just like that, we decided it was a great move for our new little family...
Wife. Mom. Greek. Southerner. Event Planner. Amateur Cook. Traveler. Thirty One Consultant. Stationer. Crafter.