companion

Eliana truly is the best little buddy. We just returned from a four day adventure in Pasadena. The impetus was family, of course, but also the fact that for the first time ever -- after seven long years of longer layovers in Seattle and Salt Lake -- I can fly direct to L.A. from Missoula. Brilliant. And cheap to boot.

This afternoon I felt like we were commuters. We waltzed on to the plane after an easy, brief stint in LAX, found ourselves an extra seat for Eliana (and Baby and Night Night) and we were off. The flight attendants all remembered us from our Saturday trip and treated Els like a queen. She was lovely. Our friend was there in Missoula with our car. It was almost too easy. I brought nothing but a diaper bag and an oversized purse. Thank goodness for sisters and cousins and their hand-me-downs!

The trip was perfect. I really wanted to streamline it this time, not try to see too many peeps in too short of a time. Now that Eliana is unpredictable and not exactly relaxing in a restaurant, it took away the culinary pressure I usually put myself through in L.A. There is too much good sushi, dim sum, Indian, Mexican for a little Missoula wannabe to take in. But this time we took it easy. We reveled in Trader Joe's and cooked at home. We drank pomegranate martini's in my sister's stunning backyard, cooked stellar fish tacos with the rockin', fresh ingredients that are so available in sunny Los Angeles. I got to watch the beautiful relationship between Eliana and her cousin unfold, Eliana hanging on her every word, busting up at her jokes, Piper learning how to navigate the road of "older", learning how to help, but not push. My mom and I got to stay up late and talk deep. I got to take Hilary's kick boxing class (or let kickboxing kick my ass), was able to reflect briefly on the funny relationship that I have to gym culture. Did everyone who grew up in L.A. in the late 80's/early 90's spend an absurd amount of time in the gym? Is that normal?

Got to have a special lunch with one of my oldest girlfriends. Got to go deep and talk about her upcoming marriage, about all the changes and evolutions we are constantly examining. Was able to spend some time in the park watching my girl with my girlfriend's (and boyfriend's) girl. Watch the way Eliana looked up to Emelyn. Talk mama with someone who I've had so many crucial, wild, coming-of-age moments with. Watch the way our lives have settled and come back together in new ways.


And Eliana appreciated it all. She really was a little traveling companion. She slept like a champion, took languid, California-style long naps, loved her pack-n-play, and didn't mind staying up late with us. She loved her Gran's house, loved exploring every last detail, loved getting to know some more of her peeps.

And then we just hopped on the plane like normal people and made our way home. Flying over the green hills and snow-capped peaks, watching the windy Clark Fork, seeing the "L" from the plane, I felt myself settle, felt the comfort in being back at home. Because after seven years, that is what this place has become. I will always long for my family in L.A. I will always feel guilty for leaving. I will always romanticize the life I lead there. But this trip gave me some perspective. It is not my home anymore. I am a visitor. In being a visitor, I can almost appreciate it more. I don't have to justify the life we happened to choose anymore. It happened. And it's here. And now. I would have never in a gazillion years predicted it when I was 25. But somehow this place seeped into my skin, took hold of my heart.

As we stepped off the plane and I saw the sky wild with perfect clouds, smelled the clean mountain air, felt the familiar mellowness that makes me unclench my jaw, stop worrying incessantly about earthquakes and traffic, I knew that I was home. Eliana clung to me like a little monkey, her tight, Cali curls already relaxing in the dry air, saying, "We made it! Elie's home..." and I felt so thankful, thankful for all the love and experiences she just received, and for the quiet little place we will settle back into.