Cedar is taking a nap. Azalea is playing quietly in her room recovering from strep throat. I'm sitting in my sun-lit (thank the heavens!) living room. I remember how I used to blog to connect with people and update my family. I remember adding narration to our life. I remember how blogging helped me heal from postpartum depression. I think about how it made me a better baker, a better writer, and a better mom.
In the past I would have used blogging to give you details about moving from Idaho to Oregon. I would have told you about our tiny dark apartment. I would have included stories about crying while I packed millions of boxes with the help of dear friends. You would have known that Nate moved to Oregon a month earlier than Azalea and me to start his job. I might have even told you that I was in a rotten/pouting mood from about July to two days before Cedar was born in October; though, you probably would have guessed that from my writing.
And now that I'm writing this post I can tell you that our holidays were fabulous. Really. Filled with love, and warmth, and pretty much every Seattle tourist attraction I could have wished for. And last weekend we moved out of our dark apartment and into a rental house that has a giant window in every. single. room. And I wander around the house following the sunlight like a lazy cat. No joke. And I have a decent kitchen again that I can spend the next three months setting up to be exactly the way I want it to be. And it occurs to me that I could probably get a job organizing other people's kitchens to the height of efficiency except that they probably couldn't pay me enough. I can also tell you that Cedar is 100% delightful. We can't get enough of him. The same goes for Azalea. I can tell you that we're doing pretty well. And that someday I might like it here too. Those are the kinds of things that I can blog about.
I was sitting here on Friday afternoon thinking about writing a blog so I went ahead and wrote one. It was no big deal.