Category: Music

Trading Futures

Tomorrow we celebrate one whole year with my sweet Elijah David. I can hardly believe it. This past year has simultaneously flown by and granted me hundreds and hundreds of honey moments that drip and drizzle so slowly I can still savor them.

The year has taken us on some wild adventures through near-death and baby-tours to a brand new city where we’re still in the process of making our first house the home we’ll grow old in.

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When You Win the Wrong Lottery

It’s been an eventful week for my friends…and a bit of a rough one for me.

It was precipitated by the happy fact that a few weeks ago, Elijah started sleeping through the night, thereby ending our sweet, middle-of-the-night interludes. He’s growing up too fast.

Then, last Monday, Paul ran his hand over my belly, and like a shock wave it hit me that we won’t ever again get to feel a tiny growing baby dancing inside me.

Then, stupid Betty Draper didn’t want to be pregnant with her third baby.

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Your Little Heart (new song)

I wrote this song for Elijah while he was still baking. I even mentioned it here. Tonight, I got to sing him to sleep with it. It looked like this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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…But Now My Eyes Have Seen You

In the days immediately preceding Elijah’s birth, I was convinced I’d been abandoned by God.

After all, I spent my days dedicating my full passion and much ferocity to praying that Eli would come on his own, and focusing all my physical energy on making my body (and his) conducive to a “successful” natural labor. I did everything all those websites say induces labor, from walking to running to drinking red raspberry leaf tea to exercise-ball-bouncing to using the breast pump to sex to acupuncture to eating pineapple. The only thing I refused to do was drink castor oil.

And the boy wouldn’t come.

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Not That It Would Have Changed a Thing

Ok. I’m calling in the big guns.

I just read this thing, “25 Things I wish I knew before having kids” from another mom on babycenter. And none of it looks terribly crazy. It all looks/sounds eerily familiar.

And it’s freaking me out.

According to this list, beginning in late April, I’m not going to sleep at least three years. Actually, scratch that. If I’m anything like my own mom, I’m not going to sleep for 18 years. And if my kids are anything like me, during years 13-16, I’ll sleep less than I do during their first months of life. You know, when they don’t sleep through the night, so neither do I?

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