"I lahved joo"

Handsome is as white as they come…his family’s origins are Canadian, English, and Scandinavian. He is tall and thin, sports a short military cut of light brown hair, wears button-up polos, and when he dances, it very often resembles the air pillar man twisting and twirling in front of your local car dealership (which I think is very sexy). But when Handsome is trying to woo me, his ethnic background is overpowered by…the power of his love. I know when he gets that look in his eyes, the transformation begins. His skin darkens, his pants tighten, and a small black goatee appears on the bottom of his chin. His shirt suddenly bursts open revealing mounds of black chest hair and Salsa music begins playing faintly in the background. In a deep, thick Latin accent, Handsome speaks pick-up lines of love:

“Yourrr skin is like…” [enter dramatic pause as I adorningly look up from my menial tasks to stare deeply into Handsome’s eyes, awaiting to receive the  passionate decree of love] “…yourr skin is like…a pahncake…a pahncake that I ate, many a time.”

I smile blankly at the comment…and then the DJ in my mind screeches the Salsa music record to silence and I say, “What?” Handsome’s face remains passionately serious as his thick eyebrow slowly raises into a perfect upside down "V" and his puckered lips whisper “I lahved joo”

Later, we’re driving in the car at sunset and suddenly I start smelling the sweet aroma of…*sniff* *sniff* …is that the ocean? …and is that Salsa music again? I look over to the driver’s seat and find that my husband is suddenly fully donned in a white tuxedo. And he has a ponytail.

“The calors of the sunset,” his dark Latin accent captures my attention and I sigh, “the calors of the sunset…they luk like…they luk like, your face.” I look at the colors of the sunset: bright red, bright orange, and varicose vein purple. “Ummmm” I point at the sunset, “You think my face looks like–” He quickly adds, “And your teeth, they look like white mountain goats…jumping on a white rrr-ock.” I stare back at him with a half-dropped jaw. He caresses my cheek and whispers, “I lahved joo.”

I’m sitting at our kitchen table early in the morning, eating Raisin Bran when suddenly a classical guitar strikes the chords of a saucy hot-cha-cha refrain. I look around for the source of the music and Handsome appears walking out of the bathroom…shirtless. Holding a piece of floss he says, “The firrrst time I met you was like the firrst time I flossed…and my gums bled.”

Silence.

“I lahved joo.”

That night we’re on the couch reading and I notice out of the corner of my eye that Handsome is flexing his peck muscles. “It looks like you have something inside your chest,” I observe. Our eyes meet and then I literally watch black hairs materialize on Handsome’s upper lip as he grows a full mustache in less than 3 seconds. “No...there are two things inside of my chest,” Handsome's pecks dance. “One is my heart and the other is…my other heart. Both of my hearts are for joo, because...

"…I lahved joo.”

Tomorrow is a Long Time

Handsome and I love singing and playing guitar together. This is as raw of a recording as you can get :)

Here's our cover of Nickel Creek's "Tomorrow is A Long Time."

Happy Tears

31 Weeks

I'm due in exactly 1 month from today...so it's time for a little reflection.

December 26, 2012

"On Friday, Handsome and I had movie gift certificates, so we went and saw the Hobbit. A stupid, tender trailer came on before the movie about a guy writing a book for little kids and, suddenly, out of nowhere, tears started streaming down my cheeks! I turned to Handsome, "What's wrong with me!" Handsome started laughing when he saw that I was crying. "Nothing's wrong with you," he gently whispered and put his arm around me. Then a SUPER cheesy, poorly made trailer came on, music started to play and, of course, they started showing kids with cancer. That was it. The worst part was that the lights were up so everyone could see me wiping away big, fat crocodile tears. 

"After the Hobbit (Hallelujah I didn't start crying during THAT movie) we drove home and Handsome started joking around which made me giggle, and then I started really giggling, and then, suddenly, I was laughing hysterically when, just as suddenly, said hysterical laughter inexplicably transformed into hysterical sobs. I looked at Handsome who was obviously very nervous, surprised, and, frankly, confused. "Um, George, I think you need to calm down. You're starting to kind of freak out." Well, it was too late, I sobbed the whole way home! I was crying because I missed my parents, I was crying in an expression of my fear to be a mother, but I was also crying because I was happy. I have something sacred growing inside of me and it is an overwhelming, but joyful realization. Oh yeah, and my hormone levels just entered the biological equivalent of the Twilight Zone."

Zoom forward to today:

I'm sitting in the living room of our 480 sq. ft. apartment, 10:05 PM, writing this post by the glow of Handsome's parchment paper lamp and the screen of my Mac. The baby was wiggling and stretching, but now he's settled, leaning his little body up against my belly. Handsome and I are not quite sure what we've gotten ourselves into, but it is good, that much I know.

Handsome and I had a very practical timeline for when we would start our family. We considered school, money, and our careers. Children were a big step and we wanted to make sure that we appropriately timed a baby. But something snapped in us last November. I was stressed because of work, Handsome was stressed because of school, we were both stressed because of money, and we both felt like, "What's the point?" I mean, Handsome and I could save a bunch of money for kids who didn't exist yet, but we couldn't read stories to futuristic, fake kids, we couldn't make movies with them, or take pictures of their faces when we tell them we're going to Disneyland, or watch them as they embody characteristics that are unmistakably ours or characteristics unmistakably unique to themselves.  If we were going to have to take crap at work, suffer through the rigors of school, and pull coins out of couch cushions instead of charging the Am Ex, we wanted to at least enjoy being with the people we were sacrificing for. Yeah, yeah, Handsome and I sacrifice for each other and for ourselves individually, but honestly, we'd be backpacking across Australia right now if we didn't want to have kids so bad. Handsome and I found such a happy place being together, and now all we want is to share it with others, to share it with our children. 

So like a couple of madly in love, misguided teenagers, we threw our practical plans out the window and bounced from "Let's think about it" to "Let's go all the way!" ...and off the birth control we went.

Suddenly, all we could think about was babies, and, of course, "Avatar: The Last Airbender" because we were marathoning through that cartoon masterpiece around this same time. We talked about what our baby would look like (he or she would have my eyes, and Handsome's beard), we brainstormed baby names (Ang came up a few times), imagined ourselves as the cool parents with a Foosball table. We were dreaming babies and it was an exciting 3 week adventure!  But, yes...in 3 weeks, I was definitely pregnant, and my paranoid let's-think-about-things self instantly came back full throttle: 

"What. have. we. done?!" Fear crept over us as we realized that we had just boarded the train of parenthood with a one-way ticket...and there was no way off. Actually, I was the only one thinking that. Handsome was just thinking: "Yeah, baby!" and I was like, "We didn't even pray about this!" and Handsome was like "Woo! I've sired a child!" and I was like, "They're going to fire me at work, and we're going lose our house even though we don't own a house, and we're going to be kicked out on the street, forced to wash dishes in the back of a creepy hotel, and our baby will end up in the hospital with small pox!" and Handsome was like "Hey, George. Watch this." and then he started popping his pecks. 

So, there were mixed reactions when we found out. I was happy. I was. But scared. I've dealt with emotional issues in the past where getting out of bed and thinking anything positive seemed an impossible task. Was I fit to be a mother? And then I thought of my mom. She was so great. And I missed her. I wanted her here with me. I wanted to tell her that my whole life I've been trying to emulate her, and now I was going to assume the same title that was first assumed by her at my birth. And then I was a little sad about my career. I had some plans of things I wanted to accomplish, but now I was going to have to make new plans. I cried to myself because I was so ashamed to share my emotions. And it didn't help that all the pregnancy books kept equating the baby to a tadpole. Ew. 

But despite the fear, and grief, and self pity, something else was going on inside of me. A spark had ignited; a little flutter that was independent of my fears and hopes, independent of me, had come to life deep within my anatomy. The baby was coming, ready or not. 

At week 10, when the doctor put the ultrasound stick up to my abdomen and my little tadpole appeared on a screen with a heartbeat, my fears were immediately diluted with tears of awe, excitement, relief, and simple joy. That blotchy black and white image suddenly revealed the most beautiful creation I had ever experienced. 

And then I felt the baby move a couple months later. "Handsome! I can feel the baby move!" "What does it feel like?" And I stuck out my index finger and poked him a couple of times on the arm. Later I felt that gas-y, fluttery feeling everyone talks about, but I first felt those love pokes. 

And then we found out he was a boy a couple weeks after that. We both thought for sure he was a girl. That day we spent 60 bucks at baby Gap on little overalls, a shark swimsuit, and a blue hoodie.  

From mild nausea, revulsion to all meat, and applesauce cravings in the first trimester, to a visible belly in the second trimester, to swollen ankles, outrageous leg cramps, multiple nighttime pee breaks, restless leg syndrome, insomnia, and an insatiable craving for peaches in the third-trimester, my pregnancy has been an exciting and novel experience. 

Now the baby is just part of who I am. I take him everywhere with me. My bladder is his punching bag, my ribs are obstacles in his course, and my intestines just get in the way. He's my little friend whose somersaults remind me that I'm not by myself when I'm alone at work and that I am needed and loved. 

Handsome plays guitar for the baby, and I sing him lullabies. We bought a bassinet and a bouncer this weekend, and scored a free swing last night. 

We don't know what we've gotten ourselves into, but it is good.  I love this baby and his presence inside of me has somehow given me confidence that overshadows my earlier fears. I am his mother, and will be what he needs. I am devoted to helping him find as much happiness as I have found. I will seek to protect him from, or at least, arm him against the ugliness that creeps across the planet. I will show him the bright spots of life. 

Come my little one.

You'll hold the stars in your pocket,

And paint the sky with a kite.