Triangle Mamas

Bliss in the Bull City

by Kelly

Unlike most people that I know in the Triangle, I can say that I spent most of my life growing up here, in Chapel Hill to be exact.  It’s often hard to believe that it was 23 years ago that my family picked up all it’s “Yankee” roots & headed down here from Connecticut.  So, you can imagine how surprised I was when I met my now husband & found out that not only was he a Durham, NC native, but his parents were as well – a rare find in this area.

Needless to say, I was a footloose & fancy free teenager finishing her first year of college at East Carolina University when I met my husband.  We were both eighteen, but he was just graduating high school.  It was during the summer of 1996 that we dated & both had what we thought would be a “summer fling,” if you will.  I’ll admit, my friends were a bit skeptical upon meeting Seth – growing up in NC he was a bit of a clean cut, country boy, and not the typical guy I might have dated.   I was very much a “wild child,” with an unusual sense of fashion, a love of jam band music & a fondness for grungy boys.  But, something about this guy was different & 13 years & one child later I couldn’t be happier.  We often refer to ourselves as ‘Dharma & Greg’ – the years have changed us a bit, but my husband it still the picture of maturity & responsibility, while I am still very much a dreamer & a kid at heart.

He is the reason that we now live in Durham, and that I have such a love & appreciation for NC.  A common thread between us is a love of the great outdoors – camping, hiking, backpacking, boating, cycling – we have experienced the best that NC has to offer. While we have not gone camping yet with our 2 ½ year old son Wyatt, we talk about it often & wonder which favorite spot in NC we will revisit with him in tow.  Living in the Triangle allows you to get to the Smoky Mountains or the Crystal Coast with the ease of a 3-4 hour trip.  Couple with that the fact that our closest friends, my sister, brother, parents & in-laws all live within 15 minutes of us, and we rarely complain about not getting a night to ourselves.

When Kelly is not reminiscing about her college days, she can usually be found chasing after her toddler son Wyatt, and blogging about it at Monkey Man, if she hasn't run out of steam at the end of the day.

Pizza Nostalgia

Even though Thomas Wolfe, himself a Tar Heel, said you can't go home again, I always like to try anyway when it comes to Chapel Hill. I spent four years there as an undergrad, then returned five years later for graduate school.

Over the years, one restaurant retained my unfailing loyalty:
Pepper's Pizza.

A couple weeks ago I had a work-related meeting in Chapel Hill, so I took the opportunity to head to the Hill early and treat myself to lunch at Pepper's. It's been a few years since I had eaten there, and I knew that the restaurant had changed locations, moving up Franklin Street a few spaces from its original site (shown here). I was nervous, hopeful, a little skeptical -- but I needed to know if it was still My Pepper's.

As I enjoyed my lunch (my "usual": diet coke, side salad no peppers no onions with ranch dressing, and a slice with zucchini and feta) which was thank goodness exactly wonderfully like it had always been, I had to laugh about how much things have changed.

Of course, the space is new -- much brighter and less grunge than the old space, with four televisions mounted on the walls. The wait staff still looked college-town-quirky, but none of the employees had multi-colored hair, large tattoos or excessive piercings. And even the music was different -- instead of head-banging alternative noise, I actually heard "Walking on Sunshine" (although, to be fair, that is one of my all-time favorite songs -- seriously, click the link and thank me later for putting that feel-good tune in your head and a skip in your step).

But what had really changed? Me.

Instead of walking up to Franklin from class or the dorm with a group of friends, I drove to the parking garage and ate alone with a magazine (and enjoyed it! how else would I get to read The New Yorker in peace?). Instead of wearing jeans and a t-shirt with birks, I was in suit trousers, dressy top, pearls and heels -- professional attire for my meeting, of course. After lunch, when the waitress shooed me back to my table (apparently you don't pay at the counter in Fancy Pepper's), I handed her my AmEx card instead of a wad of change and bills out of the pocket on my backpack.

But the salad was still the right balance of lettuce, tomatoes and mozzarella with just the right amount of dressing. And the pizza still has that perfect-not-too-thick-not-too-thin crust with just enough sauce, thinly sliced veggies and salty feta cheese. And the diet coke, refilled at exactly the right moment, still comes with that delightful pebbly ice.

So I decided I'm okay with the changes at Pepper's because the food is what matters most. And I'm more than okay with the changes in me because it's a good life I've got here -- even if I did look a bit dorky at lunch.

Cross-posted at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake. When Cyndi isn't eating in Chapel Hill, she likes her pizza from Lilly's or Moonlight.

My Home State

Unlike many people living in the Triangle, I didn’t get transferred here from another state or end up here by accident on my way someplace else. I chose this place for my home.

I’m a nearly-born and totally-raised North Carolinian – my parents were living in Pittsburgh when I was born, but I was still a baby when we moved to Greensboro, so I hardly think I qualify as a Yankee. Since then, I’ve lived in Greensboro two more times plus Hickory, Chapel Hill (twice), Charlotte, Durham and Raleigh (twice). I’m thinking I should get retirement homes in Murphy and Manteo (or maybe Asheville and Wilmington) just to feel like I’ve really covered the state.

Equally unusual is that my husband is also a native – born and raised in Winston-Salem, although he wandered the country a bit before finding me in Chapel Hill (the second time around). When we married, we agreed that North Carolina was our home – that even if we wandered some first, our family would live and grow here.

It hasn’t always been the easiest choice. We’ve both lived in other states and other countries, so we know there are fun and beautiful and interesting places to be outside the Old North State. And good jobs in public relations are tough to find here – we could make more money and have better opportunities in big cities like Chicago or New York.

But we knew we would miss the beach and the barbecue and the warm October nights – and we’d end up blowing all that extra money on plane tickets just trying to get back home.

It’s like the old television jingle used to sing, “I like calling North Carolina home.” And I expect I always will.

An original Triangle Mamas post.  When Cyndi isn't busy eating Krispy Kreme and watching Tar Heel basketball with her husband and their two children, she can be found blogging at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

Home Team

I have never cheered for a team where I went to school. College, that is. There wasn't a big competitive sports scene at the woman's college where I spent the first part of my higher education, and the second part - well - I was into my own scene, let's just say.

My family are die hard bleeding maroon Mississippi State fans, myself included. Great greats and grands, my father, uncle, brother, everyone - except moi - went up north to Starkpatch to get their higher education. There is even a dorm which bares my maiden name.

Momma and Daddy always had season tickets to the basketball games, and when my dad couldn't go, my mom would often give me the chance to ride up with her and see the game. Or see who I could see, was usually my agenda.

One trip up was a race against the clock to get me back in time for the SubDeb Formal. I think I got home with about 15 minutes to get ready. The pictures show it too. The Bulldogs were playing LSU, and my mom said it was going to be worth the drive to see the game. Not because it was going to be a good game, but because a little dude named Shaquille O'Neal was playing for LSU. Momma said that we shouldn't miss seeing him playing college ball. She was right.

Anyway, my NCAA bracket this year had my Bulldogs going up against the Tarheels for the Championship game. I tend to make my bracket out by who I like best. It usually doesn't go well, for I never ever advance any team from Florida and I definitely never advance UCLA no matter how good they are supposed to be.

Of course the Dawgs were knocked right out in the first round. We knew they would be, but I had to root for them anyway. They were my home team.

Were.

I sit here tonight, rooting for the Tarheels and feeling at home doing so. It's not my alma mater. It's not Kevin's either, but they do ever so graciously employ him. More and more Carolina blue has been making its way into our home. A sweatshirt here, a t-shirt there. We are becoming a Tarheel family through and through.

And it feels good. It feels good to be able to let go a little bit more of the things that keep me from being completely rooted here in North Carolina.

It feels good to be home.

Crossposted at Don't Take the Repeats, Marty's personal blog. If you want less words more often, follow Marty on Twitter. Come on now, it's fun.

Say Cheese

Let me tell you about the first time we took our daughter in to have portraits taken.  Perhaps the story will sound familiar to you.  I called JC Penney and made the appointment, and on the day of the session we bathed Abigail, picked out two of her cutest outfits, and packed her off to the mall across town for her first professional portraits.  Of course I figured it would be a bit challenging, trying to take a picture of a tiny squirmy six-week-old baby, but after all, we only needed one good shot.  A single picture for posterity.  How hard could it be, I asked my husband.  

Oh, how naive I was.

Abigail had her own ideas about how the session should go. Well, to be exact, what she had were two poopy diapers in quick succession, followed by a full-scale freakout thanks to the pushy photographer, the bright lights, and the camera that was approximately the size of a compact car.  The photographer kept trying to "position" her, and really, what strong-willed baby likes being handled?  Abby made her displeasure known, of course.  There was no consoling her, and the pictures were all terrible, generic and impersonal, utterly lacking in spark or creativity.  So much for my grand portrait scheme.

One day not long after that, I came across a flyer for Nan Friedman with PS Studio.  I didn't know if Abigail would do better with another photographer, outside the dark, overheated, slightly claustrophobic JC Penney studio setting, but I figured it was worth a shot.  

Nan, who has been photographing children for over fifteen years, was great with Abby, warm and friendly and patient.  She just let her be herself, and as a result, the pictures actually looked like our three-month-old daughter, not some vague expressionless cyborg baby.  After just half an hour or so, we ended up with literally dozens of wonderful shots to choose from, Abby's personality shining through in every picture.  

We've been back to see Nan for Abby's six-month, nine-month, and one-year portraits, and have been absolutely thrilled every time.  As your typical photo-happy mom, it's so nice to know that when I make an appointment with Nan, dress Abigail up, and drive all the way there for the appointment, it's pretty much a sure thing.  I can't recommend her highly enough - and it's safe to say that we will never go back to JC Penney again.  

Nan's prices are very reasonable, and she works out of a brand-new, beautiful studio in Chapel Hill (on Stancell Drive, parallel to Highway 54 - also very convenient for Durham dwellers).  Next time portrait time rolls around, give her a call and tell her Abigail sent you.

P.S.  Expecting mamas, her maternity portraits are stunning, too!

Nikki is a crappy photographer and slightly better writer who also blogs at A Small Song.

Directionless Mommy Travels

Believe me when I tell you it is easy to find. Kidzu, a children's play museum, in Chapel Hill is conveniently located on Franklin Street in the heart of Chapel Hill. It is REALLY easy to find. Which is why I can't believe it took me at least 5 turn-arounds, 3 check-ins with my GPS, and 2 more check-ins with Google maps on my iPhone to get there.

Of course, I wasn't entering Chapel Hill from my usual route. Instead I had decided to make a stop at NC Birth and Wellness Center to pick-up some Bummis from their fantastic natural baby boutique. (Have you been there? They carry babywearing, cloth diapering, and breastfeeding supplies galore.) So, I was heading into Chapel Hill from a different direction than I was used to.

Add to that the fact that my GPS actually had me turn left into a parking lot, turn left two more times, and wanted me to turn left a final time (yes, a complete rectangle of driving) but I refused.

Finally after 20 minutes, I manage to successfully navigate myself (ignoring the GPS) to Franklin Street.  Now onto the greatest challenge in journeying to Kidzu (or anywhere else along Franklin Street) finding a parking spot. Since I was already stressed about getting there, I opted to not parallel park. (I'm miserable at it.) I know what you're thinking... That means you will park where exactly? I parked in a parking garage a good three blocks away, that's where.

By now you are thinking that this story of my pathetic navigation skills will come to end with us arriving happily at Kidzu. Well, you're wrong. Instead, I venture out what looks to be the exit of the parking garage which opens into an alley. Thinking the alley will lead me to the street, Linus and I head out. After walking about a block's length down the alley searching for an out, I reach a deadend and am forced to turn around. Returning to the parking garage, I decide to exit the same way we entered which puts us out on Rosemary Street. Heading up Rosemary Street, I'm unsure exactly where I am in relation to Kidzu but I do know how to get to Franklin.

Standing on the corner of Franklin and Columbia, I'm faced with another directional decision and, of course, choose poorly crossing Columbia and heading down Franklin Street away from Kidzu which only moments before was a mere one shop length away. Traveling about a half a block further, I begin to suspect my mistake and complete yet another turn around. Heading back, I decide Kidzu must be on the other side of Franklin (no idea where I got that idea) and proceed to cross Franklin. Once across, the Gods above take pity on my soul as I look up and can actually see Kidzu cattycorner from where I am standing.

With a weary mind and a severe arm cramp from hauling around my 25 pound toddler, we finally arrive at Kidzu, 30 minutes later than I had planned, but are able to relax and have a good time because that is definitely what Kidzu is made for, a good time.

And, it really is easy to find. Just don't ask me for directions because I have NO idea.

An original Triangle Mamas post. Abby also blogs at My Sweet Babboo about finding her way around life with a toddler.

When the World Stops for a Day

If you've come here from the North, you might say that the Triangle doesn't get much snow. If you've come here from the Deep South, then you have seen the biggest snows of your life here. No matter where you were before you lived in North Carolina, one thing is always amazing about the snow.

It stops everything. School, work, errands, meetings, whatever, are all put on hold while we gather our bread, batteries, and milk and snuggle in to watch the snow fall. Then, we all bundle up the family in snow gear likely only used once or twice, and we go outside to play.

Snow days are my favorite days.

From Triangle Mamas to you, Happy Snow Day!

Marty and her family
 

Abby and her family:

Nikki and her family:

An original Triangle Mamas post.

Looking for a pet sitter, Triangle dwellers?

I owe a huge shout-out to Love'm and Leave'm Pet Sitting, for saving my butt (well, technically, our cat Eliza's butt, I suppose) when my husband and I found out we had to leave town suddenly on Christmas, of all days.  Dan's grandmother Lucy passed away two days before Christmas, and we spent about twenty-four uncertain hours trying to figure out exactly when and how we would get to Massachusetts for her funeral.  It was such a sad, stressful time, I almost forgot about Eliza, and then when I remembered I was sure that it was too late to find a pet sitter for the holidays.

Fortunately, on Christmas Eve I got ahold of our stalwart pet sitters at Love'm and Leave'm, who said of course, last-minute pet sitting at Christmastime, that's no problem.  Not only did they find a sitter for me despite a skeleton holiday staff and short (one-day!) notice, they patiently put up with my four emails and three panicked phone calls when we had to change our flight plans, then change them again.  Each time I had to apologize profusely and ask them to revise our pet sitting schedule, they assured me it was easy to do and they were happy to help.

Thanks to their flexibility, patience, and compassion we were able to take off on Christmas morning to go and see Dan's family without worrying about Eliza, who we knew would be well-cared for in our absence.  If you're ever in the market for a caring, reliable pet sitter, give Love'm and Leave'm a call!

Nikki is a mother and calico cat owner who also blogs at A Small Song.

Welcome to Triangle Mamas

Community.

We hear that word over and over again. Bloggers, Mommybloggers in particular, create community.

It's true. There are friends to be made, stories to be shared, issues to be debated, people to be supported, all right at your fingertips. The click of a mouse can bring you close to someone you've physically never met.

There is something about connecting locally too, though, that I have missed. I want to be able to read what other mamas in the Triangle are doing. While there are some great websites already that connect women through forums and are sponsored by larger companies, there isn't anywhere I've found that we can come together and share our stories.

I want to hear about the little girl at the butterfly house who wouldn't stop staring at your 2 year old until he finally kicked her in the shins.

I want to hear about the Durham Bulls game and if your kids loved Wool E. Bull or were terrified of him.

I want to hear about the pediatrician at White Oak Pediatrics who is older than dirt and could care less if you breastfeed. Oh wait, that's my story.

So I share this space with you. If you live in the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill area and want to write here, please contact me. If you live here and just want to read, please leave us a comment every now and then. If you don't live anywhere near here, you are welcome to stay and be a part of our community virtually.

The Triangle is a lovely place to live and raise a family.

Let's talk about it.