There was a "Sex in the City" episode where the girls had to venture to suburbia, and they were like fish out of water. I always felt that way when I visited too (except for Oak Park where my sister and her family live), so the very idea that I now lived in those waters was staggeringly dumbfounding. I was going to drown.
Well, we were here. We had landed in this strange and foreign land of trees, mini vans and backyards. The day of our move, we put our daughter down for a nap and took one ourselves. We were awakened an hour or so later by an unusual noise. When we realized what it was, we just laughed. We had heard our first lawn mower in well over a decade (oh yeah, we'd better get a lawnmower).
The first thing we did buy was a backyard table and chairs and we spent every non-rainy moment outdoors wondering why everyone else wasn't outside as well. Didn't they know what bliss there is in just sitting outside your own home? No packing a diaper bag or a picnic, even a cold beer was all right inside if you needed it. Maybe this wasn't such a bad place after all.
Zoe spent every waking moment in the sandbox or on the swing sets with Jake, the boy next door who is her age (yay!). I (s)trolled the sidewalks looking for other pregnant moms, trying just to meet anyone and also see if our son would have some friends his age.
I'm sure the neighbors didn't know what to think of us outdoorsy freaks, especially when several saw me out mowing the lawn while 9 months pregnant (to bring on labor, people). I nearly had to physically restrain my giggling husband from sitting outside, drinking a High-Life in a ribbed tank-top telling me, "You missed a spot, honey!"
That might have made for an even lonelier first year here.