35 Years Late

I know your eyes in the morning sun
I feel you touch me in the pouring rain
And the moment that you wander far from me
I wanna feel you in my arms again
And you come to me on a summer breeze
Keep me warm in your love and then softly leave
And it's me you need to show
How deep is your love
 

Okay, I was a very little girl when I first heard the Bee Gees. And as I grew in the eighties, the one thing we all seemed certain of was that the seventies were so over. Anything associated with that decade was so completely uncool.

So every time I heard the Gibb brothers on the radio, I'd cringe or change the channel. But a few years ago, Husband and I started playing the "What group is this?" challenge while we were in the car. (Yes, I did win most of the time), and it came out that the first album he ever bought was put out by the Bee Gees. My first album I'm fairly proud of--Billy Joel's An Innocent Man. (Don't ask about the second album, let's just say it mentions something about a material girl...) So I kinda laughed at him. But I began to tolerate some of the music from the decade of my birth. And I started having memories of when I was so young I don't recall specifics, only sounds and feelings. And guess what? Those seventies tunes actually brought back happy times, mostly associated with my older sister and how fun she was. In 1979 we had a disco act that lasted about three seconds. She would lace her fingers underneath my foot and spin me around. I loved it and that exhilerating feeling of being cherished and feeling included is still palpable.

A few months ago, my sister told me she bought a Bee Gees CD from Amazon and mentioned how it helped inspire her to clean. The only other musical cleaning partner I've heard recommended was Johann Strauss. So, I added both stations to my Pandora list. But I haven't been cleaning too much lately, so not much came of it.

Then on New Year's Eve, I felt a need to celebrate. And ever since I had Miss Darcy, I've stopped listening to all the stations that my teenage daughters like. So I cranked up my blue tooth speaker and put on my slippery socks, selected the Bee Gees channel, and I danced and slid all over the fake wood floor to "Night Fever" and "Staying Alive", as well as treasured hits from the likes of the Doobie Brothers and KC and the Sunshine Band. Woo hoo!

When I first started hearing "How Deep is Your Love," again as adult,  I didn't think much of it, having heard it as background noise for the most part of my life.

But when I started to sing along, I realized that even if it is cheesy and has questionable intent (how exactly am I supposed to show you how deep my love is,  hmmm?), it said so much that I feel about Husband! So last night on Valentine's Day, I claimed a dance with him to that very song. I held him way too close (can't fit a Book of Mormon in there!) and we shuffled around and stepped on each others' feet and even gave me a spin or two. How fun to be in love! Lately I have realized how blessed I am that we found each other and that he gave me the chance to get to know him. I can't imagine being happy with anyone else.

I guess I shouldn't be too surprised about this Bee Gees thing. When husband and I were seriously dating and we talked about me going on a mission and what might happen with our relationship, out of my mouth rushed the words,  "If I can't have you, I don't want nobody baby."
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Butter Pecan

I love everything about Miss Darcy. She is sweet and gentle and her skin is warm and velvety and her head is fuzzy and soft. Her eyelashes emerge more everyday, and I love it when she coos with me. Her first smile caught me by surprise. I was holding her in my left arm and I was on the phone with a friend, looking over some cub scout paperwork (the friend was my assistant den leader, and she is taking over as Bear leader). We were discussing the art belt loop, when I looked down at my baby. She caught my eye, almost like she was trying to look at me. I lingered on her face for a moment, because that look seemed familiar, and then I saw the corners of her little mouth turn up into a smile, followed by a tiny "gaa." So cute, so easy to be in love with.

Something that I never expected to love is butter pecan ice cream. For Pete's sake, it's the stuff grandpas like. As it so happens, both of my children's grandfathers were recently visiting with us (to see Miss Darcy, of course) and when each accompanied Husband to the grocery store, they both chose butter pecan ice cream to bring home. After they left, I found myself needing a treat. We dished up some bp, and I have been hooked ever since. I must be getting older.

The Princess Who Will Never Become a Queen

A year or two ago, a character started popping up in our family fiction: a certain princess who would never become queen. When I first heard about her, she struck me as a tragic figure and I wondered why Husband would have ever come up with her in the silly stories he tells the children. Well, I came to understand that she was actually the construct of my sweet little Goose. Long, long ago we had a dinner discussion where one of the children informed her that she would be a Grandma someday. Well, it was if she were staring her mortality in the face and she recoiled in horror. And apparently she still holds this sentiment. The other day Husband brutally told her, "Goose, even if a princess doesn't become a queen, she'll still GET OLD."
But bless her soul, she's sticking to her notions. She is "playing chess" with Cheeseball right now and she insists that her queen be called a princess!

So last night I was very naughty and took a hot bath. The standard answer to whether pregnant women can bathe is, "Yes, in water that is no hotter than 100 degrees," the idea being that you don't want to raise your body temperature because that can reduce the blood flow to the baby and cause distress. Well guess what? Cold baths stink. So I filled up the tub and checked the temperature. It registered a scalding 104.7 but it didn't feel very hot to me. I figured I wouldn't stay in too long. And I don't think I did, but all night I was bothered that I wasn't really able to feel the baby move. I think I have felt it a little today, but I'm pretty annoyed with myself. Husband is right, I should just avoid baths for the next six months.

15 weeks and counting

I've been able to feel the baby move for at least four weeks now, which, according to the internet, is much earlier than the typical 16 weeks. I experience mid-abominal flutterings when I sit or lay still and I'm reassured that the little person is still there. It feels like a big ball bearing slowly rolling through the midst of me.
I have been feeling great, other than I'm totally lazy and completely unmotivated to do anything that takes any effort. The only downsides for pregnancy for me are scary, ugly veins on my legs and the rouund ligament pain that I get when I move too fast. Oh, and this time around, I apparently can't eat raw red onions without feeling a little ill.
Ever since I learned I was pregnant I've been checking up on the baby online, to see how big it is or what it looks like or should be doing. It's such a different experience than when I was first expecting 17 years ago when everything was a guess and wonder.
The other kids are pretty excited. Beulah has finally stopped suggesting names every ten minutes (don't tell anyone but I like "Violet" and Rob and I both like "Gaius" but I don't think we're considering it seriously because it is a fairly ridicuous name with Battlestar Gallactica baggage) and Goose lovingly pats my stomach every once in a while.
I ordered some maternity clothes from Old Navy last night. Maxi dresses here I come.
It's amazing how this pregnancy has changed everything in our lives and yet it feels right and almost perfectly planned. I am so excited to see my big kids come to the hosptital after the birth--this will be the first time since the first that I don't have to worry about a toddler playing with the cords around my bed and and IV hook-up.
I thank God for this miracle and gift.

Letting it all hang out

So at five minutes to 9:00 at night I found myself in the obscure section of the Water Garden Cinema 6 parking lot, waiting for Beulah to text me if she was able to get tickets for her and a friend to see a movie. I have my phone out and I'm playing a game of sudoku to pass the time. I switch on the radio and I hear a familiar baseline . . . . "Starlight" by Muse, one of my favorite songs (ever since I saw The Tourist and heard that same baseline at the start of the credits--what a great finale!). I'm in my fuzzy leopard pajamas with my coat on and I can't stop myself. I close my eyes and start to sing along, "Far away, this ship is taking me far away, far away from the memories," but I can't keep my eyes closed too long because I'm playing sudoku and it's going so well. I think I might be slightly dancing in my seat by now. Singing, dancing, playing, buzzed by my unusual beverage choice of orange Sunkist soda, I look up and see a guy emerge from the car parked next to me, looking amused. It's nice to enjoy life's little pleasures.

Today I read Like Water for Chocolate. It was entertaining and interesting, but I am not a believer in the strange form of obsessive love that so often presents itself in Latin novels. I just finished Love in the Time of Cholera, which took me five or six weeks to read. Very intriguing characters, amazing detail and descriptions, and yet I'm still frustrated by this irrational, all-consuming passion that insists on calling itself love, yet isn't based on any true familiarity or friendship--just a feeling that manifests itself and seems uncontrollable. I guess I don't trust feelings to be reliable or long lasting. Or fair, even. I think they have their place in courtship, but to place your entire life's happiness based on an emotion experienced with eye contact is absurd.


Gloria

If only we were always this excited!

This is Goose on her first day of kindergarten. I love this picture because she looks so happy and ready to start a new part of her life. I recognize in myself occasionally a lack of enthusiam, and I'm realizing more and more that a downer attitude reaps nothing but more unhappiness.

So here's to having a good day!

This summer has been my busiest in recent memory, chock-full of swimming lessons, errands, braces, newsletters, a Nut Growers' conference, family celebrations, festivals, travels, farewells, dumpsters and now the sweet peeping of baby chicks. It has gone too fast and I find myself wanting to stop time and rewind. I want to capture my children and hold them as close to me as I can. What an unkind paradox that sometimes when you want to hold something so near, your tight grip suffocates and causes pain, rather than showing love. I think about Goose and her fierce loyalty to the neighbor boy. I could do pages on that, btw, but I'm remembering in particular a time that I insisted that she stop playing with him so she could do what I wanted her to do. Instead of happily complying to my wishes when he left, she went into her room and howled and screamed at the separation from her sweet friend.

The big girls have been gone so much. Our home just has a different flavor when they're not here; boring and bland, with a touch of quiet.

The boys have filled their days with books, legos, squabbling and video games.

Husband has been busy with his projects, but he found time to put the Costco laminate down, and I am now so much happier with the floor in my house.

The best thing that has happened this summer I hesitate to mention because it is so precious to me. Beulah and Janey have finally regained their friendship. It is magical and it's a blessing that I will forever cherish.