Even with all of the holiday hub-bub ramping up, we have another special event that is happening in our household this fall season.

My oldest is moving into her first apartment.

Yes, my eldest has finally landed her first “real” job in Washington, D.C., and we have been busy these last few weeks searching for places to live and getting ready for this next step in her professional and personal life.  We spent all day on the Veteran’s Day holiday stomping around D.C. looking at potential candidates, and after many Metro rides and apartment tours, she finally settled on a small 397 square foot studio in Northeast D.C., close to Union Station and with a view of both the U. S. Capitol and the Washington Monument from the rooftop terrace (it’s pretty sweet, I won’t lie).

We’ve spent the past few days signing documents, verifying incomes, setting up utilities, and planning for a move-in which should take place before Thanksgiving (if all goes to plan).  There are websites to peruse for furniture and home goods, and we even managed to get in a trip to an IKEA to check out home furnishings “live” (they also deliver, thank the maker).

It’s an exciting time, as she is finally “leaving the nest” and will stake out a life on her own.  To say she’s looking forward to this newfound freedom is a gross understatement.

I can recall the feelings of getting my own first apartment, when I moved to Orlando way back in 1989 (sheesh, that was tough to write).  I; however, had to go the roommate route, and myself and three other strapping young lads landed a furnished apartment just across the street from Sea World.  I still vividly remember being able to hear the sea lions barking in the evenings, even over the constant traffic of I-4 (which was right out of our back windows).  Although split four ways, there were months I didn’t know if I was going to make rent, but youth, inexperience, and enthusiasm made things like finances seem less complicated at that age.

Remember the days when you could still move from apartment to apartment in your own car?  Ahhhh, memories.

Anyway, back to my eldest daughter.  There are strategic furnishings to pick out (due to space constraints), lists to make (does one really need a vegetable peeler when first starting out?), and decisions to make on what goes on walls, what colors to choose, and other life-affirming selections to make for a twenty-something.  I have to admit, its fun to watch, as I’m merely here in an advisory role (and for the manual labor of schlepping things in and out of her new digs).

Here’s to a happy holiday season, all snug in a new place to call her own.