Finally, tonight — the 5th night of our stay here on the west coast — I am able to stay awake and coherent past 10pm. In fairness, my uncharacteristically early sleepiness could be due, in part, to the two bottles of cider I’ve been imbibing after the kids have gone to bed each night, but I’m sure it’s more a function of jet lag following an 8-hour flight with a 4-year-old, a four-hour first night’s sleep, and days on end with child(ren) when I am only accustomed to one or two days in a row on any given week. Tonight, because I had work to do, I only drank root beer and as a result, I was incredibly productive and I am probably going to see midnight for the first time in almost a week.
So, this blog entry is brought to you by my long-awaited time alone and awake, simultaneously.
The Who adjusted beautifully to the time change, actually, and has been getting along famously with the three kids (ages 2, 6, and 8) who live here.
There’s a whole houseful of toys and books and a fenced backyard complete with a full-size, fully netted trampoline. He couldn’t be happier. The first two nights, The Who slept on an air mattress in the guest room with me, but by last night, all three big kids were piled into one bedroom, making up elaborate, fantastical games with their stuffed animals when they should have been sleeping. As it turns out, all my anxiety about how well he would get along with these kids he had never met was totally unnecessary. With the expected exception of his typical four-year-oldness, I couldn’t ask for better overall behavior and cooperation.
We are staying in a town that feels almost like another country. Poulsbo, WA is on the other side of the Puget Sound from Seattle and has apparently long been an immigrant destination for Scandinavian people. The whole downtown area looks like a little Dutch village. We had some delicious local baked goods from what is apparently a pretty well-known bakery. I have yet to have a really excellent cup of coffee. What gives, Pacific Northwest? You’re totally failing me there.
Seattle is actually only about 40 minutes away as the crow flies, but between getting to and timing the ferry or driving around the sound through Tacoma, it’s close to a 2-hour affair to get to the city.
We did get there, though. Mostly because our host is not afraid of travel with four children, but in part because I insisted. “I need to see them throw the fish,” were my exact words, I think. And I did see it, though I didn’t actually get a picture of it.
We have two more days and one more night here and then we’ll be spending two nights in Seattle proper with other friends. Then it’s into a rental car and off to Portland to meet up with some family for a whirlwind tour of that city before heading back to Eastern Standard Time at the crack of dawn Tuesday.