"You're a Gem" - Sam's First Birthday Party

Somehow 365 days passed in a heartbeat, and today is Sam's first birthday! We had a big bash for him last weekend, and because we really think he's something special, we planned a "You're a Gem" themed party. We also chose the theme in honor of his adoration for all things shiny, particularly jewelry, rocks, engagement rings, and sparkly stones. (He might be my son.)

We crafted the paper gemstone backdrop from vintage construction paper and these printable templates, and then we strung them up on a wooden dowel from Home Depot. The assembly line we had going at 11 pm with scissors, rulers, and Elmer's glue was proof that my husband is also a gem. I didn't intend for the backdrop to end up looking like a giant necklace, but in the end, it did (and that was appropriate, because on the invitation we requested that ladies wear their shiniest jewels).

We all overdosed on sugar--rock candy-covered vanilla cupcakes, huckleberry lollipops, mint chocolate malt balls, pop rocks (I've always wanted an excuse to serve pop rocks at a party), Lucky Charms, brownie wedges, and more--with the exception of Sam. He was very cautious about the whole sugar-for-the-first-time thing. He inspected his cupcake with one finger, took a little taste, pushed it around, and then wiped his finger off on my arm. A few minutes later, though, he double-fistedly demolished the cheese platter. I'm fairly certain we have a savory guy on our hands. Next year, he'll probably get a wheel of brie with two candles in it.

The punch was cranberry ginger ale + Trader Joe's hibiscus cranberry juice + sparkling water. We also had a coffee station with assorted kinds of rock sugar and sugar cubes.

Jordan caught the vision for creating a gem-shaped piñata, and he spent the evening before the shindig camped out with a graphing calculator, t-square, box cutters, duct tape, and the biggest cardboard box I've ever seen in my life (thank you, Amazon). He emerged with a piñata-shaped octahedron, which we filled up with Lindt truffles, wrapped in gold foil wrapping paper, and dangled from a tree branch.

Our beautiful, faceted piñata had only one minor flaw: it was indestructible. We went through the usual embarrassing, nausea-inducing, hazardous routine: 1) paper bag on your head! 2) spin you! 3) take a whack! After a number of people had bludgeoned the piñata with no results whatsoever, the guys resorted to gemstone piñata baseball. Two innings in, the octahedron exploded. As did the truffles.

There was a pet-rock-making station, because...well, you can't have a gemstone party without a rousing pet rock competition. Afterwards, we hid the little guys in the yard for Sam to discover in the coming year as he explores his digs (and possibly also to leave a nice little surprise for the next tenant. Heh).

These tropical flowers were an unexpected find at a local flea market the day before the party. I didn't plan on buying fresh flowers for the party, but I couldn't resist these amazing stems! The lady who sold them to me told me how to care for the calla lilies and birds of paradise so they will last for up to a month. 

I printed out chronological photos of Sam's 365-day life and stuck them to the wall with washi tape. The night before the party, what tiny little sound woke me up repeatedly through the night in the quiet house? splat. *pause* splat. *30 minutes pass* splat...as pictures fell, one by one. We put them all back up in the morning, but next time I'm going with painter's tape. Nevertheless, it was a special way to recount Sam's exceptional adventures, from his earliest hospital escapades as a teeny preemie to his shenanigans as his current robust, exceedingly busy, curious, snicklefritz, one-year-old self.

Well, happy birthday, Sam! You really are a gem.

A to Z of 2014

January is one of my favorite months, falling second in the ranks between October and December. As much as I love the bustle, festivity, and introspection of Advent and Christmas, I prefer the new energy and clean slate that January brings. By the time New Year's Day hits, I'm simmering over with new ideas, I've got a backlog of books to read, and I am JUST SO GLAD to have the time and space to start things. But I also crave the quiet of January, the time for reflection on the previous year that there never seems to be enough time for in December. 

By now, you've probably read Bono's Little Book of a Big Year, which means that you know that I'm totally about to rip off his idea. I like his format, and I think it might even be broad enough to contain the absurd highs and lows of my 2014. With Bono, I warn you: this is too long. If you prefer, read my New Year's Facebook status ("2014 was boring. I'm ready for a little excitement."), recognize the sarcasm, accept that last year in the Ziegenbein homestead was totally off the deep end, and move on. Or stick around and bear with me through my Long Post of a Really Long Year.

A IS FOR ADVENTURE

If there was one word that I overused last year, it was adventure. It became a default word to describe whatever situation I found myself in: the good, the bad, the crazy, and the bizarre. While we did have many adventures in the typical sense of the word--outings to the coast, craggy hikes, cross-country flights, a major move--we also had a decent share of "adventures" that doubled as "major inconveniences," "life trials," or "challenging mundanity" (Sam's absurd birth situation; a three-month-long nursing war; trekking to the grocery store with a newborn; car breakdowns at Ikea). Maybe I did overuse the word, or maybe just I came to realize that those are the adventures that count the most, in which we learn and see God's hand the most, and that it is critical to see them as such.

B IS FOR BABY

This year, we were subject to the hazing initiation of new-parenthood. We were confronted with all things baby, like it or not. The registering. The books (that I barely skimmed). The hours in the baby superstores (my mantra while trapped in there: "just kill me now"). The advance decisions about hospitals and birthing methods and what the first weeks at home would look like (HA!). The baby himself, finally visible to us, the four pound scrap in our arms. I won't lie; I hate the color baby blue, and I have never been one to go googly-eyed over the baby that just entered the room. But the reality of babies is so much deeper and cooler and harder and more punk rock than all the baby-fever-stuff that most people refer to when they say, "I love babies!" or "I'm not a baby person." Which, by the way, I'm not, either, if that means insensible baby talk and lots of smoochy kisses planted on someone else's kid. But I think babies are the ultimate rock stars. They're so resilient, so human and also kind of alien, so epically smart that their brains learn 100x faster than ours, so funny looking, so squeaky, so breakable, so determined to do what they want, and everything they do seems completely novel but it's actually been done billions of times before. 

C IS FOR CALIFORNIA

And then we booked a one-way flight to the West coast. It's been a stretching experience to voluntarily leave home and launch out on our own, etc., etc., but mainly it's just been fun. Also, C IS FOR COFFEE! (Newborn in the house? Coffee all 'round!)

C IS FOR CREATE

When I was pregnant, a number of wise people advised me: "sleep when the baby sleeps." It is sound advice. But there are certain times when sleep is not the thing you need most. I needed opportunities to create. To use some baby naps to paint furniture and play my instrument and finish designing Sam's nursery. I needed to get out and play music with people ASAP after Sam was born. These things gave me a measure of sanity and helped me keep my head above water. Jordan was an absolute hero and understood this, and he helped me to make it happen.

D IS FOR DEPENDENCE

1) Dependence on God. In labor 600 miles from home without my husband there; alone in the dark at 4:15 am with my heinous breast pump; on the Internet researching next-day flights to Philly two weeks after we moved to California; in the quiet of our new house knowing that every one of our friends was at least 2000 miles away. But somehow I found it easier to trust him in those extreme circumstances than in the little daily ones: selfish decisions, in traffic, while resenting silly things that impose on my time. May I depend on him in those things more in 2015. 2) Dependence on the village. I had to ask for more help in 2014 than in any year before. Friends and family members (along with a few people I hardly knew) brought meals for months, bought me milk and eggs, did my laundry, dropped off goodies, made GNC runs for supplements, counseled me late at night over the phone, cried with me, watched Sam while I prepared to move, cleaned my house, helped us unpack. It was remarkably important and difficult to have to lean on others so heavily. 

Oh, yeah. D is also for DIAPERS. An estimated 2,500 diapers. 

E IS FOR ENFAMIL

No need to re-hash this; I already blogged about it. But the decision to let go of nursing/pumping and give Sam only formula was one of the hardest and best decisions I made in 2014. 

F IS FOR FLORIDA

This one makes me belly laugh just thinking about it. On March 20, six weeks ahead of the game, Sam was born in Florida. No one can guarantee the birth experience they have in mind, but...FLORIDA? No way. Anyway, in the divine arrangement, Florida it was, and sometime soon I'll write out the whole long story for your reading enjoyment (or your skimming pleasure). Thankfully, F is also for "FLY HOME IN A LEAR JET SIX DAYS LATER." Didn't plan the Lear jet, either, but I wasn't about to argue with that.

G IS FOR GOOGLE
See "I", "S".

H IS FOR HOME

I hate to sound trite, but it's true: home is wherever we are. And yet there's still so much value in setting up house, putting down roots in a particular place, digging into a nest, beautifying, creating comfortable spots to burrow (I blogged about this a little bit, too)...while at the same time holding it all in an open hand, knowing that the true home is waiting for us and that all our efforts to create one here only provide us with little slivers of the great feeling of homecoming that is to come. I spent a lot of time burrowing and beautifying last year, and I saw improvement in my skills as I worked, but I also learned to hold it all loosely, because sometimes you're called to pack it all up and start over. For me that process was a good reminder not to fix my heart on my physical house but on eternal treasures.

I IS FOR INFORMATION / I IS FOR INTUITION

One of the most difficult cultural questions facing my circles of people is how to channel the technology at our fingertips. My iPhone is one of my primary creative tools, and it was also a sanity-giver last year: the cheeky little thing read books aloud to me while I was literally tethered to a rocking chair for days on end last spring. I read the entire Bible on my iPhone (see letter "R") because I rarely had a free hand to hold a book. My phone dictated half of this blog post for me while I was stuck in a traffic jam. It helped me find MY OWN HOUSE approximately 68 times after I moved to Palo Alto and the movers forgot to pack my sense of direction. There, on your very own little brick, lives all the information of the Information Age (provided you remembered to charge it!), which is an amazing gift. You can look things up constantly, solicit the input of others, drive yourself mad with options and sources. Or you can put the dang thing in the other room sometimes and try your hand at intuition. Yes, it's good to be informed, it's good to be connected, but there's a balance to be found. There are times that I'm too quick to look up what other people say about things, rather than following my gut instincts or prayerfully thinking through things for myself. As a new parent, this was an important realization. 

J IS FOR JUBILEE
One of the greatest joys of 2014 was giving birth within a week of my best friend and walking through the ups and downs of pregnancy, birth, and the addition of our new tiny human appendages. Diaper blowouts in the middle of Anthropologie have never been more fun to endure. I am so thankful for my little "niece" Carrolline Jubilee, and one of the worst parts of moving to California was not being able to take her (and her parents) with me.

K IS FOR KISHI BASHI

Let's face it; he's awesome, and he's re-defining what it means to be a violinist in the pop world. Of the new music I heard in 2014, "Lighght" took the cake in terms of overall musicianship, violinnovation, and creative genius. It's the kind of record that makes you feel like you're hot stuff playing a starring role in a brilliant, dramatic movie, when you're actually just sweeping your kitchen floor in yoga pants. Or with yoga pants, depending on how distracted you are by the music.

L IS FOR LABOR

I freaking gave birth this year. All the moms out there are thinking, "Yeah, been there." But really, it's something I always wondered if I'd survive. I did survive. It was bizarro and miraculous and mercifully very short. And the tiny little four-pound product of it was a perfect reward (also bizarro and miraculous and very short).

M IS FOR MOMS
Aimee Scarpetti. Jan Ziegenbein. If you're reading this (what am I saying? You're probably the only people reading this), you should know how much I love and appreciate you. I wouldn't have lasted the year without you. 

N IS FOR NICU

Until March, I didn't know that the "N" stood for "neonatal." I didn't know what a CPAP was, or a PICC line, or gavage feeding. I didn't know that Northside Hospital had a seventh floor. I had no framework for what it meant to be a NICU parent. I only had to be one for 20 days (or maybe I always will be one), but it was enough for me to begin to understand--at least to have a shared vocabulary with--the trials of those who have endured similar or worse situations. I'm thankful for that. I'm also glad for the way the experience knit my family together; how it seems to have strengthened Sam, made him more independent, put him on a sleep schedule (glory!); how it bonded Jordan and Sam; for the rest that it afforded us in the weeks after Sam's birth; for the opportunity to endure a trial that rallied our community and gave us an incredible platform from which to watch God's tangible, dramatic work in our lives. 

O IS FOR OUTTAKES
In 2014, which very much felt like twelve months of watching my life unfold before me like a film--part tragedy, part comedy--I cleaned up a lot of broken glass, slipped and fell a couple of times, dropped at least one meal upside down on the floor, christened every room of my house with infant milk. Life with a newborn is a series of epic and messy outtakes. But I can't even remember most of them because life with a newborn also gives you a blessed amount of amnesia. The outtakes fade from memory; the story arc remains.

P IS FOR POP-POP
I was an only granddaughter; only once in my life did I beat him in checkers; we shared 28 birthdays, 28 January 19ths; he lived to be ninety two. I am thankful that he was able to know Sam before he passed on Thanksgiving Day.

Q IS FOR QUIESCENT

R IS FOR REST

Surprised to see the word "rest" included here? Yeah, so am I. The year was so don't-blink-or-you'll-miss-it action-packed, it's hard to believe that the word could factor in at all. But I did find a good deal of rest this year, mainly in unexpected places. Here are three examples of bizarre situations that provided rest when I least expected it: 1) One of the perks of our particular NICU experience was that we were actually able to go home and rest up for a couple weeks before bringing Sam home. Pretty weird scenario, I'll say, but since we couldn't do anything about the fact that he was stuck there, we made the best of it and got a ton of sleep. With the exception of the alarms set every 2-3 hours to remind me to... 2) Pump. I hated that piece of equipment with a passion, but it gave me forced rest and quiet (well, except for the pump wheezing away next to me). I read. I prayed. I drank tea, and I started this blog. 3) Not having any friends in California for a while. Sounds lonely, right? Yeah, but, the open calendar! The opportunities for sitting around and reading a book! I'm thrilled for the community we've found now, but there was something quiet and freeing about moving across the country, sharing a bottle of wine with your husband in an empty house, and starting from the beginning.

R IS FOR READING (IN COMMUNITY)

Just before last New Year's, a friend suggested that a group of friends team up to read the Bible alongside each other for a year, with mutual encouragement and discussion along the way. Our Chronological Daily Bible readings provided a thread of consistency and grounding through a roller coaster of a year. It was incredible to take in the whole Big Story in one go, especially as it put my Little Story (which seemed so monumental to me at the time) in perspective. 

S IS FOR SPREADSHEETS

Move over, Tiger; it was The Year of the Google Doc. Our move to California was a potential logistical nightmare, and as silly as it sounds, I am truly thankful for shared documents and spreadsheets.

S IS FOR SIMPLIFY YOUR SH...TUFF
I spent a good deal of time in 2014 getting rid of excess stuff in our home, mainly through social media giveaways to friends (which was satisfying and fun) and a massive, three-month-long Craigslist moving sale (which funded Sam's nursery project and a few special, long-term home purchases of things we love and will use for years). Then, I set out to put the things I reach for most in the most logical and accessible places. This is a rolling project--it'll keep on rolling for years, no doubt--but I have found that it has made my daily life with a baby simpler and enabled me to maintain a certain level of order.

T IS FOR TRAVEL

There were perils and perks to the travels we took, but the perks overruled. I ate SO MANY salted peanuts in 2014.

U IS FOR UNEXPECTED
If I had to pick only a few words to describe the year, rather than 26+, this would be one of them. It doesn't require much explanation.

V IS FOR VIOLIN

My violin got upstaged in March, but now it's back in the game with a new teacher and an owner who is resolving to study and practice more in 2015.

W IS FOR WADE
2014 saw the passing of a great hero of the faith and the church music community. Wade was one of the greatest musical influences in my life, teaching me so much about robust, traditional, yet diverse worship, about following God's call to the unexpected places ("Let's go to Ireland." "Hey Elise, Wade Williams. Want to go to Poland with a bunch of people from Minnesota?"), and about music itself. This was a year for honoring Wade's musicianship and leadership, sense of adventure, vision for true worship and mentoring true, equipped worshipers, ability to rally musicians and music from the corners of the earth and bring out their particular gifts, passion for putting a new spin on old things while preserving rich tradition, and legacy given to those he mentored.

X IS FOR XEBEC
A xebec is a small, fast pirate ship. It's also one of the many new words (mainly archaic sea-faring words that are crazy cool but quite useless) that I learned in 2014 as Jordan read through the 20-odd books of the Master and Commander series. I share it because someday it will win you a game of Scrabble.

Y IS FOR YOGA PANTS
...the ingenious, life-giving invention of the cotton clothing industry that made it acceptable for moms to wear PJs in public.

Z IS FOR ZOOROPA

Because it all comes back to U2. Just kidding. I didn't know what else Z should stand for other than "Ziegenbein," which is completely predictable. However, I just learned that 2015 is the Year of the Goat (news flash: ziegenbein means "goat leg"). So that might actually be a more appropriate note to end on. 

Last January, I set two goals for myself: 1) Have a baby. 2) Move to California. This year, I'm leaving things a little more open-ended, excited to follow the trails of possibility that I can already see opening up. There's much ahead. 

A Holiday Recap

Well, it's a good thing I didn't make a 2014 New Year's resolution to blog regularly, because I hate failed resolutions! By way of catch-up, since it's been two months since I last posted, here are a few little snapshots of our holiday season.

Friendsgiving gathering at our house with sweet new friends (brined, browned bird courtesy of Trader Joe's + The Indomitable Pioneer Woman)...

An adventure into the Santa Cruz mountains to cut down a Sierra Redwood (a very striking, totally California variety of Christmas tree, but one that Sam and I both got an epic skin rash from. +10 points for originality, -25 points for an emergency CVS run for Benadryl. I guess next year we'll revert back to the ol' Fraser Fir.)...

An extended trip back East, time with friends and family, and Sam's first Christmas Day (he was a natural with the gift wrap. I do love presents, and it seems Sam inherited the gene.)...

The holidays were, as they often are, full of both joys and sorrows (it's easy to capture the joys in pictures; it's a little trickier with the rest). We grieved the passing of my grandfather on Thanksgiving Day and the loss of another family member and a dear friend the same week. I made a whirlwind trip to New York with my mom and brother for a burial service for both of my grandparents, and we visited the neighborhoods where my mom grew up and the graves of my great-grandparents. There were challenges to tackle and fears to face down. But there were also quiet evenings by the tree, lots of belly laughs with friends at Sam's expense, opportunities to forge new relationships in California, music made with both new and old colleagues, meaningful times with family around the fire and around the table. 

I considered making a 2015 resolution about writing blog posts more frequently, or coming up with some sort of fancy editorial calendar like legitimate bloggers do in order to keep myself on track, but then I thought better of it and decided to stick to my original New Year's resolution--the one about vowing to drink more coffee (because it's so good for you!). That resolution I can keep. 

An 8 Month Birthday

 

Where did the last eight months go? Oh yeah...a couple months of having a newborn, a packed summer, a number of parties, job changes, and a coast-to-coast move. Nevertheless, it's hard to believe how quickly this once tiny, helpless preemie turned into a mature, capable baby who is so expressive, inquisitive, and curious. I can't quite express how awesome I think this kid is and how much I admire him. YAY SAM! 

Six Days of Expeditions

October was one crazy whirlwind. First, the three of us took an unexpected trek to Pennsylvania, by way of New York, to be with my family after my grandfather's recent stroke. I could write a couple of blog posts just about that trip--the four flights, the three pieces of lost luggage, the three delays, the time we were literally stuck on the plane for an hour because the jetway broke, the frantic sprinting-through-the-airport-like-a-maniac-with-a-stroller ordeal, the tough family decisions, the Mid-Air Meltdown of 2014--but I'll leave all that to your imagination. It was about as much of a circus as you might envision, so I probably don't need to blog about it. :) However, Sam did see the Empire State Building, so I can check that off his bucket list, and other than the 20 solid minutes of screaming on the last flight (yeah, we finally got to be those parents), he traveled well.

Two days after we got home, Jordan left for a work trip to Korea for a week. I have to be honest: I am a wimp when it comes to staying home alone for any extended amount of time. I get jumpy, I watch too much Netflix in bed, I eat cereal for every meal, and I generally get a little weird. I hadn't ever had to be alone with Sam for an overnight. Also, I only know about three people in California, because all of my plans for making friends ASAP went out the window when we moved here and then immediately started traveling cross-country again. So, taking all those factors into account, I decided to make the most of my six days with Sam, enjoy his company to the fullest, and plan as many expeditions as possible. And then I packed the car with every piece of baby gear we could possibly need. Here's a glimpse into our six days of expeditions...

DAY 1: SAN FRANCISCO

After dropping Jordan off at the airport, Sam and I continued on into the city, found a parking spot in the Mission, and set out on foot. One of my goals as we live here is to really get to know San Francisco, but...that's kind of like meeting 40 people and trying to become best friends with all of them. It's huge, it's one unending string of awesome places, and every neighborhood has its own vibe, hidden treasures, and personality. So we're taking it one neighborhood at a time. On this particular adventure, we tackled the Mission. We got coffee, pastries, and a mind-blowing pear smoothie at Dolores Cafe (my real hankering was for croissants from Tartine, but the line was around the block), and then walked up to Dolores Park to people-watch and drink a bottle of milk in front of the most spectacular city views. We also found the niftiest little toy store, Paxton Gate's Curiosities for Kids, where you can buy alabaster-encased bugs, epic pop-up books, crocheted "taxidermy," and nothing made of plastic, and where the shopkeepers entertained Sam with puppets and bubbles while I gawked. We bought flowers at Bi-Rite Market, flipped through some Dog-Eared Books, and did some thrifting. Then we packed up and headed for home...but I couldn't leave without a glimpse at the ocean. I followed my nose (and my iPhone), found the beach, and drove south along it. We pulled off into Fort Funston State Beach, and found the view below. The overlook is 200 feet up and is built right on top of an old harbor defense bunker, but now it's used as a hang glider launch pad.

DAY II: ROAD TRIP

We packed up and headed to Carmel, 90 minutes south, a little beach town where my grandmother lives. This was a strategic decision for a few reasons: 1) I knew she would cook for us, so that would address the three-cereal-meals-a-day problem, 2) she is very festive when it comes to the World Series, which was happening that week, and 3) her house is a perfect jumping-off point for exploring Big Sur and the Monterey Peninsula. 

DAY III: CARMEL COAST

Grandma, who knows every good spot to eat in town, took us to Highlands Inn, way up in the Carmel mountains, where you can eat fish tacos while sitting on the edge of a gorgeous bluff. After lunch, she snuck us in to the fancy club lounge by acting like she owned the place, and we spent a while enjoying the floor-to-ceiling windows  that look out over Point Lobos. My grandma is a happening lady. Next, she steered us down to her favorite painting spot in Pacific Grove, through Monterey, past Fisherman's Wharf and Cannery Row, up to Lover's Point, and along the beach. We finished off the day with Happy Hour at Grandma's (it's her ritual...complete with hors d'oeuvres) and a World Series party. Never a dull moment with her.

DAY IV: BIG SUR / MONTEREY 

Now I get to introduce you to one of my top five favorite places in the whole world. The stretch of Highway 1 from Carmel down to Big Sur State Park is just stunning. At one of the vistas along the drive, there's a restaurant called Nepenthe, which has world-class burgers and a view overlooking the cliffs. So, that was our main destination for the day, and on the way, we stopped at all of the major scenic pull-offs to take pictures like the one below. It was breathtaking. And Sam sat in the backseat and quite literally snored through the entire thing. We spent the afternoon at a massive farmer's market in downtown Monterey, caught a magnificent sunset over Carmel Beach (after which everyone standing on the beach and boardwalks burst into applause), and then headed home for--what else?--Happy Hour!

DAY V: RECOVERY!

Sam and I both slept until 10 am. Because expeditions really take it out of you. Then we packed up the car and road-tripped home, by way of Prunedale and The Artichoke Capital of the World. Then Sam had a major teething episode and we went to bed at 7 pm. Eh, you can't win 'em all. 

DAY VI: PALO ALTO

The last day's adventures were mostly of the practical and musical varieties. Sam accompanied me to a gig rehearsal and a few meetings, and then we hiked to our favorite local bakery for French baguettes and to Trader Joe's to fill our bare fridge (explorers gotta eat!). Then we spent the evening on the living room floor and I played records for Sam that he had never heard before: Highway 61 Revisited, The Queen Is Dead, Summerteeth, Kind of Blue.

DAYS VII-X: Jordan came home from his volcanic island with pockets full of interesting Korean oddities, and jet lag. We all slept for three days. 

Would it have been easier to just stay home for six days? Oh, probably. But it wouldn't have been nearly as fun or scenic or memorable, and I figure that whether I'm at home or on the road with Sam, I'll mainly be preoccupied with keeping him alive...so we might as well find whatever adventures we can while we're busy staying alive. Of course, it's trickier staying alive on the road, but to me, the awkward backseat feedings and mid-hike diaper changes and total exhaustion at the end of the day are totally worth it the effort. Besides, now someday Sam can say that he's taken a bottle while gazing at the San Francisco skyline and had his diaper changed on the cliffs of Big Sur. He may be too tiny to remember these crazy expeditions, but I hope they will awaken a tiny spark in him that loves exploration and the open road and scenic pull-offs and the joy of the hunt for beauty wherever you are. 

California

Today is our fifth day on the West Coast. We flew in Wednesday night, moved in Thursday morning, and were mostly unpacked by the weekend, thanks to family and a few spectacular new friends. We're starting to feel settled, but there's a learning curve to moving cross-country. Thankfully, I have an iPhone. "Siri: find a grocery store." "Siri: find me doughnuts." "Siri: is this compostable?" 

Our house is in Palo Alto, a pretty little city in its own right, about 30 miles south of The City (San Francisco). We're in Silicon Valley, hemmed in by the Santa Cruz mountains to the west (and just beyond them, the ocean) and San Francisco Bay to the east. That means that the sun is out every day and it's always 55 degrees in the morning/evening and 70-75 degrees with a crisp ocean breeze from over the mountain ridge in the afternoon. It also means that it's super geek-dom, which suits us fine. There are electric car charging stations on every corner, all of the middle aged men are either Asian or look like Steve Jobs, and kids discuss things like time travel on their way to elementary school (true story--Jordan overheard the conversation from our driveway). Every day, driving around, I notice one new, quirky sight after another: a Tesla dealership, the offices for apps like Evernote and Houzz, a succulent the size of a large sea monster growing in someone's front lawn, a triple tandem bike. It's incredibly fun.

Our house is full of light and has a little garden in the back, along with two lime trees and two redwoods. We're on a residential street that is also a bike boulevard, meaning that every mile or so there's a barrier to allow only bike and foot traffic through. Our claim to fame is that The Pink Bridge is five houses down from us--it's a tiny pink bike/pedestrian bridge that was commissioned by Pink Floyd when they lived in Palo Alto. The bridge is in pretty rough shape, but we are very proud of it. Ahem. Another thing we love about our location is that we can walk to several local, non-Starbucks coffee shops (including a Philz Coffee, which I can describe in four scrumptious words: mint mojito iced coffee), a couple of grocery stores, and a host of interesting little cafes and delicious holes-in-the-wall. We can also walk two miles to downtown Palo Alto, which has an Anthropologie, a Tibetan textiles store, and an ice cream sandwich shop (among other, less important things). There are also more Starbuckses and yoga studios than a person could ever visit in a lifetime.

Do we miss Atlanta? Yes. But it doesn't feel like we're 2500 miles and three time zones away, maybe because we're just a flight away. We haven't had time to feel sad, what with all of the to-do lists and fast action of the last few weeks, but I can sense a tiny bit of homesickness creeping in. Through this process of leaving home, the weight of the transition has hit me physically rather than emotionally, and I feel generally exhausted. But the beauty of our new surroundings, the friendliness of our new church community, the relief of finally making the long-anticipated move, and the pure fun of the crazy adventure is outweighing the challenge. I'm itching to get out, explore, and work on my two-year bucket list...but first, I'm tackling those last seven dreaded boxes. :)