Breathing that sweet mountain air (or trying)

To celebrate the beginning of summer, Suzannah and I hit the road with Grandma Griffith yesterday and drove to Bozeman. It's going to be a fast trip -- we're only here until Saturday -- but my days are wide open and I plan to fill them with all my favorite Bozeman things. MacKenzie River Pizza, coffee from the Leaf and Bean (but not, to my great sadness, from the Rocky Mountain Roasting Company, as it apparently no longer exists -- I can't write about that or I'll get too emotional), taking Suzannah to the park, watching her play in the sprinkler, wandering through Vargos and The Country Bookshelf, maybe walking or jogging up the highway if the evening air cools off a bit.

Our first day had a bit of a rocky start for me, though. It took forever to get Suzannah to sleep last night after fourteen hours on the road, and of course she insisted on sleeping with me, and neither one of us slept particularly well. Four hours later I woke up to her bouncing a teddy bear on my face, announcing that she wanted to play. It was just too much, on top of lingering morning sickness and allergies and this stupid cough. I rose with great hostility and a chest full of phlegm, but things continued to improve. My mom relieved me for a bit so I could sneak back to bed for a nap, and when I emerged from the darkened bedroom she made me my favorite soft-boiled egg on toast. I fell back in love with Suzannah too, because she's too stinking adorable for words. A few deer wandered through the backyard this morning, and her delight reminded me yet again that the world is wondrous.

(She can trash a house awfully quickly, though. When we slogged through the front door in the wee hours of the morning, she immediately shouted, "Where's the toys?" She's been a tiny blonde whirlwind ever since, taking small breaks to poke bites of food into her mouth and use the potty. I'm exhausted. Do I blame her, or do I blame her tiny sibling?)

Anyway, things are mostly good. I'm still taking Zofran, but with less urgency. Food is beginning to taste good again. Today I had some time to myself at the Leaf and Bean, and I ordered -- and enjoyed -- my first latte in over two months. As long as I manage to remember to eat at regular intervals, I do pretty well. I miss my husband, but he is enjoying some well deserved time to himself this week. Earlier this morning while we were chatting, he told me he wished he could be here to help me out. I told him not to worry, that he should relax this week because I'm most likely going to be checking into a hotel for a few days when we return. Under a fake name, of course. They won't be able to track me.

But then Suzannah had a nap, and we played in the sprinkler outside, and tonight my dad is grilling steaks and life feels pretty good. I remain the eternal optimist and believe, despite our recent track record with sleep, that tomorrow I will feel healthy and well rested, that I won't have to sleep with a cough drop gluing my tongue to the roof of my mouth or with a three-year-old's feet pressed into my back. And if that happens, well, at least I can drink a little coffee tomorrow.