Moving

The hard part is over. We got on that plane with a baby and survived to tell the tale. As the universe would have it, we weren't even the people whose baby cried the whole time.

The flight went well. Violet nursed during take off to help with the pressure change. I thought the ascent may bother her head and ears, but instead she left a big pudding pie in her diaper for me during takeoff. I went in search of the "changing table" as soon as the seat belt light went off. What I found was a tiny space about the size of a school cafeteria lunch trays. It was a humbling diaper change.

Violet slept most of the flight and when she wasn't sleeping she was entertaining the people around us with cheesy grins and heil Hitler waves. Some of the gentlemen would wink, which Violet responded to with a nose scrunch.

We stayed in a hotel for two nights until our household goods were delivered. The whole process actually went surprisingly smooth. Violet was a golden child throughout the entire thing. Washington rewarded her with an allergic reaction complete with hives. We had been in our new apartment for 24 hours when I noticed the hives. They were so severe that we took her to the doctor who (as expected) asked if she has been exposed to anything new or if we've changed anything. The allergic reaction guessing game is pretty daunting when everything is new and different.

Moments of culture shock:

- Violet going to bed at 6:30 pm - 8:30 Violet time.

- It isn't daylight until well after 8 am.

- Zero air conditioning - anywhere, anytime.

- I tried to order a chicken biscuit at McDonald's and was met with, "We don't have chicken biscuits..."

- Rushing to unload our groceries from the cart onto the checkout because I'm from the south and I rush for absolutely no reason. I look up to find the cashier replacing his bags and applying chapstick at the speed of smell.

- The peculiarly shaped milk cartons.

- It's coffee time, all the time. There are Starbucks every 1 mile, with other drive-up coffee huts in between.

- The days the "morning" fog never lifts and you live in a cloud all day long.

We live in a city called Puyallup (pew-ollup), which is about 30 minutes south of Seattle. The word Puyallup is a Native American word meaning "the generous people."  There is a reservation here and there are even certain months of the year that only tribe members can fish from the river. There is a large hill with beautiful views. We live on that hill.

When we're not living in the cloud, Mt. Rainier is visible to the southeast. The downtown area is in the valley. It is made up of mom and pop diners and cafes, farmers markets, antique stores, and even a cucumber farm. The buildings are historic and date back to the city's origin. Downtown and the valley neighborhoods would be destroyed if Mt. Rainier erupts. The other side of the hill is the new town area, complete with any chain restaurant you could possibly think of and never-ending options for shopping and general commercial wants.

My heart and soul like it here. The air is crisp and the trees feel especially magical.

Read more about our moving journey here and here.