A return to normalcy (maybe)

The problem with getting out of the habit of writing here is that I think I have to come back with an AMAZING and THOROUGHLY DETAILED update that covers every thought I've had in the last two months. (Except trust me, you don't actually want to read every thought I've had in the last two months.) So I've been putting it off, because nothing I can write now will meet my own ridiculous standard. This morning, I've decided to pour myself a cup of coffee and just try getting reacquainted with this space.

I do wish I'd written more about Christmas. I had Big Plans for a Christmas entry. We drove to Montana (and survived nicely, obviously; we made it out of here before Snoqualmie Pass closed and more snow fell on Seattle than I have ever seen here) and spent a happy ten days there. Matt's parents and my Grandma Griffith even joined us, so after more than a week of attention from five grandparents, Suzannah is pretty much ruined. We're only just beginning to recover, and if you think I'm exaggerating because you think I'm prone to that (though I don't know why you would), let me just tell you that my two-year-old took exactly one-and-a-half naps in ten days, and I thought she'd never again go to bed without a tantrum in her life. My girl has never been fond of sleeping much, but this was ridiculous. She nearly stayed in Montana. (One thing that helped her finally go to sleep? Bringing her new toaster to bed. My father-in-law made it to go along with the wood play kitchen he built for her over the summer, and it's just so awesome -- he used parts from an old toaster for the inside, and the wood bread slices actually pop up and down. She loves it, and we make lots of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that I have to pretend to eat. And she had to sleep with that toaster every night. Now, she allows it to stay in her "kitchen" and is back to sleeping with Cookie Monster, but it was awfully cute -- if a bit weird -- for awhile.)


(And this is what a half-nap looks like, by the way. It happens when a child hasn't slept in three days and passes out on the couch during Christmas Eve Dinner. Note the flatbread still in her hand. Also, I should mention that this is a testament to how exhausted she was, because my daughter has never been one of those kids who just wears herself out until she falls asleep playing somewhere. She sleeps in her bed. Period. Or the car.)

Of course, according to my mother, she was a perfect angel on our anniversary. Matt and I spent our first! night! alone! together! since Suzannah was born; we treated ourselves to a night at the 320 Ranch, which is where we honeymooned six years ago. It was wonderful -- think little log cabin in the woods, a sleigh ride in the mountains, and one of the best dinners I've ever had (and I didn't have to worry about whether the menu included chicken tenders and mandarin oranges or whether there would be crayons at the table). We were really, really ready for this -- as in, we didn't call home once to check in.

Now we're back home in the Pacific Northwest, land of wet and green Januaries. I think Suzannah dearly misses the snow, because for a week after we returned she insisted on taking her mittens to bed with her and sleeping with them clutched against her chest. She woke up me up at three o'clock in the morning once, crying because they'd fallen on the floor and she couldn't find them in the dark. Toasters and mittens -- that's my girl.



Finally, I've been meaning to do this for a long time. About a month ago, my friend Nikki gave me this blog award:


It felt like a hug on a night when I really needed one, and I'd like to pass it along to just a few of the people I particularly enjoy reading, especially since I don't tell them that often enough. (I'd give it right back to Nikki, too, because I've loved her writing as long as I've known her.)

I've been reading Kelli (I Like Tulips) for years. I don't remember who first pointed me in the direction of her online journal so long ago, but I do remember that person writing that her journal was one of the most interesting blogs she read.

I work with Kyanne (Cookbook's Book) and basically, we share a brain, but that's not why I'm including her here. If you have a bad day, read her blog and count your blessings (or at least laugh, which I usually do) -- at least your dog probably hasn't stolen, eaten, and pooped into the backyard the dinner you were cooking, your new pair of shoes, the kitchen sink, and an entire preschool class.

I've known Anne (Married to a Poet) for years. She is a thoughtful reader, beautiful writer, wonderful friend, and new mother (so she may not have much time for blogging these days, but she deserves this anyway). She's one of my favorite people in the world.

I've known my other Anne (In the Midst of Motherhood) since we were in the sixth grade at East Middle School in Great Falls, Montana. She lives in Florida with her family now, and we met up for the first time in years last winter when she traveled to Portland for a wedding. As it is with the best of old friends, it was as though no time had passed. She writes about all things related to motherhood -- breastfeeding, birthing, attachment parenting, cooking, and wrangling two rambunctious toddlers.

Amy (When It's Time I Will Be Ready) is more awesome than I can tell you. We love a lot of the same authors, and this girl can write. I met her in West Seattle when she visited the west coast a few years ago, and she was just as fabulous in person as she is online.