A Pandora Kind of Night (Began on Sunday, finished on Tues.)

Do you ever have one of those?


 Tonight's golden light just begs for me to slink into my reflective side, to steep in the the day's/week's events and commiserate with the birdsong about hope for new beginnings.


Say what you will of technology---and I surely have my own Luddite tendencies---but there's something about the magic of a music genome to make me thankful for the magic. (I was honestly spacing out earlier, staring at my memory card reader thinking about what is actually physically taking place as my memory capturing microchip uploads its treasures.  It was an almost Zoolander moment, but I moved on instead of snapping it in half looking for my pictures ;)

 Seriously, though, how did my lil' genome buddy know that I needed me some Iron and Wine and Ben Harper and Josh Kelly and Regina Spektor and....oh, music you woo me!


Anyhoo, with Kev gone this week, I've had some time, just a bit of time in the evenings, to reflect on the state of things in my life, to take stock, tinker, and come up with a game plan.  (Apparently that involved an inane overload of metaphors).   Some things I've come to realize, in no order of importance:


 ~~I'm a limited-time only single mother.


 I ride the wave of new-found energy reserves for the first few days, pushing the envelope and responding to the blowouts and tantrums of every day life with a fresh plate o' spunk.  Then I realize, this whole parenting gig goes over way better with a co-captain.  Kudos to you mamas and daddies who do it solo day in and day out, to military families and others who weather long separations. 


~~It really stinks to try to type a blog post on a netbook with a giant inkblob in the middle of the screen.  I think it's a crack, but at least, as Julie says, it's a pretty leafy decorative inkblob, so that's good.

~~Finding new-to-me soul-melting musicians is kind of an addiction for me.  My latest muse?

James Vincent McMorrow.  Check it:

 

~~My children teach me so much about how to love, how to trust, how to drink with unparalleled vigor of daily beauties.  I'm also astounded by some of the uncanny behavioral similarities that we just could not have even taught them.  Like, there's this thing that Ceci does---it began as picture-taking face and turned into her trying to close her eyes almostbutnotquite sneaking a peek between the lash cloud, slyly smiling the whole while.  

I totally remember doing/might still do this:


The closet snapshot of said trickster--taken a few months ago

My wild sweet Jacob, who has a free-spirit like mama but also loves his routine, like both mama and daddy.  While Kevin's away, without fail, and of his own accord, the first thing he does in the morning this past week is to go get the papers so that Kevin can read them when he comes home.  

It's indicative that my little first-born, the one who made me a mama, is transforming.  Jacob is slowly shedding the doe-eyed and soft little boy body, breaking forth sinewy limbs from playground climbing and riding too-small bikes like a clown on fire.  

He protects his sister, reading to her and getting her to laugh like no other person in the world.  

Though our bed is much roomier, I do admit I miss his ninja-like skill of slipping into our bed in the wee hours as we snooze unaware. 

He teaches me, my Jacob does.  About how the saying "The early bird catches the worm" may not always be the case, because maybe owls might want to eat worms but they are nocturnal and don't get up until dusk.  ;)  Or that it's always important to save the tastiest food for last so you can really enjoy it.

And now for a glut of photos:

Her Michael Jackson pose 

Ang, as Sarah's doula, came up with the idea to celebrate the baby bump before it's gone.  'Twas a lovely event of feminine beauty where fertility abounded.  Since I promised not to post face pics until all photos are pre-approved to avoid any (NON-EXISTENT) double chins or jelly rolls, I thought a picture of the belly cast and hands would be ok.  :)  

 ~~Why does the Onion do it to me every time?

~~The hookah tree is now open for the season, we're hoping to hit the beach sometime this week and my new godson Joseph Pillari will be here tomorrow!!!  

Quinn, we love you and are sending prayers to "push him out, shove him out waaaay out!

 And finally, leave it to GK to make you feel confident about your life choices, like sitting in a kiddie pool fully-clothed and having a grand old time:

Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery: He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul, but his life.

- G. K. Chesterton

Oh, and because I can't stop at just one:

"Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese."
 I promise, the last one--for tonight, of course.

"Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we."