Tag Archives: Weather

Movie Night

On Tuesday evening I walked around my house like a hormonal pregnant woman, bitching that it was hot.  In my defense it was 78 degrees in the living room at 5 pm.  The afternoon had been in the upper seventies, maybe even low eighties. We opened windows and turned on ceiling fans and I couldn’t get cool enough.  We had chicken and a big salad for dinner.

A strange day for a November in North Carolina but I embraced it.  In fact, I was moved to paint my toenails.  Barefoot and pregnant in the Cackalackey.  November, be damned.  At nearly 32 weeks pregnant it was a thrill to reach my own feet.  Even if I had to bring my feet and toes up in to my lap, contorting myself on the couch seems preferable to just leaning down lately.  However it had to be done, it happened.  I painted my own toenails.  And Thanksgiving and Christmas and The Baby seemed a million miles away.

Last night I snuggled up on the couch.  Under two blankets and I kicked the fireplace on.  Em and I looked at recipes for Thanksgiving and planned out potential holiday desserts.  (She continues to campaign heavily for donuts, silly kid.)  I sent Em up to pick out her books for bedtime.  Among the books she chose was last year’s copy of “T’was the Night Before Christmas.”  This morning the sheets felt cool when I slid my legs over the side of the bed.  There was frost on the ground and the last of the leaves have fallen from the crepe myrtle.  Warm socks and corduroys and turtleneck sweaters.  Tonight I will make meatballs for dinner and we will snuggle up as a family and watch a movie.

Our first Friday night in the new house, just the three of us. Eight more.  We have eight more Fridays between today and our due date.  Eight Fridays.  Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s and a few birthdays in there somewhere, too.   Two Charlie Brown specials and Jimmy Stewart’s “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  Order plantation shutters and get them installed.  Bring down all the Christmas decorations, put them all up and then take them all down and put them back in the attic.  There’s a lot to do in the next eight weeks.  Plenty of time.  But only eight Fridays.

Eight nights with my feet in MQD’s lap , my skinny-mini little girl curled up next to me.  A movie we have seen a thousand times playing on the television.  I don’t get to hold her in my arms often anymore.  I’d watch anything just to hold her, smell the back of her neck, feel her freezing little feet up against me for 90 minutes.

Nine Fridays from now my arms will likely be full.  Of a brand new baby.  And as prone to the drama as I am even I must remember that Em won’t be headed off to college.  She will be glued to my side, quite likely.  Falling in love with her baby brother or sister just like me and MQD.

The eighth Friday is January 13th.  Seven years earlier on January 13th I found out I was pregnant with Emily and my whole world changed.  I was going to be a mom.  And now I will be a mom all over again.

They say no two kids have the same mother.  I hope I like being this kid’s mom as much as I have loved being Em’s so far.  Emily’s mom is strong and unafraid of change, in spite of all of her insecurities and her best efforts to get in her own way.  Emily’s mom became MQD’s wife.

This kid better turn me in to Wonder Woman to top all that.

Day 81: Celebrate nature

Day 81: Celebrate Nature :Lure a fly on to this page and swat it here.

I can’t find anything celebratory about killing a fly.  And I think this is actually the second time in this book they have asked you to kill an insect. Hrrmph.

In an effort to “celebrate nature” today I did snap  a quick picture out my office door.  But a picture can’t capture the sound of the  thunderstorm that is rolling through Chapel Hill right now, or the way the thunder claps combine with Simon & Garfunkel’s 59th Street Bridge Song to make for a beautiful morning.

I put a fair amount of effort in to enjoying an average rainy day.  Rainy days are not my favorite.  I am a sunshine fan, but without the rainy days you can’t appreciate the days with the sun on your face quite the same way.

But a thunderstorm?  I have no trouble enjoying a thunderstorm.  The way the air is warmer and cooler all at once.  Early to mid 1980s – Sitting in the trunk of our car, the seats folded down,  the scent of sleeping bags and popcorn combine with the smell of the rain.  My parents would pull the car up to the very edge of our garage, our steep driveway allowing it to feel like we would fall off the edge of the universe if we jumped from the car’s warm, dry trunk in to the rain.

I learned to appreciate a thunderstorm on those summer evenings. More often than not by the time we got our sleeping bags arranged just so, our stuffed animals lined up, our pillows fluffed up, our popcorn popped… the storm would be nearly passing.  But we enjoyed the process, the process of getting ready to enjoy the storm that pulled us in from the back yard, or off of our bicycles early that evening.  Similarly, anyone with small children knows that if the lights go out, simply bring in wood for the fireplace, gather around the hearth and get ready to roast marshmallows with a favorite book.  Your power will come back on as soon as you get settled.  I think I learned a lot about embracing the unexpected, finding the joy in the small moments, from those evenings sitting in the trunk of that shitty station wagon.

Like so much of my adult life… it’s balance.  I’ll take a rainy day.  Because the sunshine is always right around the corner.

You say I am repeating
Something I have said before. I shall say it again.
Shall I say it again? In order to arrive there,
To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,
You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy.
In order to arrive at what you do not know
You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.
In order to possess what you do not possess
You must go by the way of dispossession.
In order to arrive at what you are not
You must go through the way in which you are not.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know
And what you own is what you do not own
And where you are is where you are not.

~T.S. Eliot