Rain Dance

A rainy day, home and bored after the county fair.

Mom, I will put on my dress

and then I can dance in the rain.

Good idea.

The end.

All I want to do is make love to yooooouuuu.

You know you are infertile when you hear the song All I Want To Do Is Make Love To You and you scoff one hundred times at the person who wrote the ridiculous lyrics (clearly the same person who instilled in me during the high school years that every time you have sex you get pregnant).

Here's the song lyrics with my notes:

It was a rainy night
When he came into sight,
Standing by the road,
No umbrella, no coat.
So I pulled up alongside
And I offered him a ride.

(Was she looking for him?

Did she know she was ovulating?

Were her temperatures up?)
He accepted with a smile,
So we drove for a while.

(Also, what kind of a woman

picks up a stranger

at night, in the rain.

Oh, yeah.

A woman who wants to

get pregnant by him.)

I didn’t ask him his name,
This lonely boy in the rain.
Fate, tell me it’s right,
Is this love at first sight?
Please don’t make it wrong,
Just stay for the night.

(Sister wouldn’t use protection

with a complete stranger?

Must have been pre-1980).

All I wanna do is make love to you
Say you will
You want me too
All I wanna do is make love to you
I’ve got lovin arms to hold on to

(I’m thinking this guy didn’t have to be begged,

but can you imagine his reaction

if he found out what she was up to?

PSYCHO.)

So we found this hotel,
It was a place I knew well

(umm, why?)

We made magic that night.

Oh, he did everything right

He brought the woman out of me,

So many times, easily

(of course, because she lives

in a fairy tale where she has multiple orgasms

and one night of sex with a stranger

results in the pregnancy

she’s always been waiting for).

And in the morning when he woke all

I left him was a note.

I told him

I am the flower you are the seed

We walked in the garden

We planted a tree

Don’t try to find me,

Please don’t you dare

Just live in my memory,

You’ll always be there

(Honey, he was out that door

The minute you said seed!)

All I wanna do is make love to you

One night of love was all we knew

All I wanna do is make love to you
I’ve got lovin arms to hold on to

Oh, oooh, we made love
Love like strangers
All night long
We made love

(or, in her words,

leh-hev).

Then it happened one day,
We came round the same way
You can imagine his surprise
When he saw his own eyes

(And when he recognized you

after one night of sex

on a dark rainy night!

Hello?

Are you with me?)

I said please, please understand
I’m in love with another man
And what he couldn’t give me

(ah, the ol’ male factor infertility, eh?)
Was the one little thing that you can

(And what does the other man

think about all of this?

Does he know?

Doesn't he notice that

the baby doesn't have his eyes?

Heh)

All I wanna do is make love to you
One night of love was all we knew
All I wanna do is make love to you
Say you will, you want me too

All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long.

(The worst sonnnnggg).

Written by Mutt Lange, a male

who has obviously

not been exposed

to the realities of reproduction.

Back to life, back to reality.

We're back in Pennsylvania and I thought I'd give you a glimpse into what's happening here right now. If you're one of the .04 people I've called to check in with this month, you know that our house is not quite done.

The Same Girl

This one cackles when she laughs.

This one covers her mouth when she giggles.

This one had too much to drink last night. She looks like this this morning:

This one mended her mother’s Christmas tree skirt last night (it’s August, of course, and Christmas is coming soon). She spends her idle time dipping her toes delicately into cool ponds and then remarking, "Ooh! It's chilly!"

Her morning (up just before the rooster's first crow) looks like this:

This one accessorizes with a new blue winter coat (lined and with holes for her arms).

The other one accessorizes with these shoes.

This one was outfitted by me.

This one was outfitted by my 70-yr-old friend, Carol.

They are the same girl. Which do you think TM prefers?

I heart nature.

It was approaching dusk last night when Mr. Gabe and I made our way down to the beach for shells. (B and TM were out in the boat fishing and I’m way far gone into my little personal world of arts and crafts and the theme this year is Shells We’ve Discovered in 2010. It's probably as bad as you would imagine it to be).

When we turned a bend in the road, I spied a black fox jumping swiftly into the roadside flora. I stopped and stared at the spot where it had disappeared, hoping it would peek out to see if we had already passed. While I was stopped, I spotted another fox---a red mama---atop a sandpile on the property next to our home. TWO FOXES in fewer than thirty seconds, and the second one and I had a total stare down before it retreated into the woods ( I could still see it’s big ol’ ears in the semi-darkness, hidden, but not really!). All of this missed Mr., who is the Only Dog In The World Not To Spot Foxes On An Evening Walk.

I took TM back (in the stroller) and we saw them again in the same spot. Stroller for two reasons: 1) She’s quieter that way and 2) I didn’t want the foxes to steal her, which I know doesn’t make a lot of sense to you but remember when that woman was attacked by coyotes last year? You never know. You'd have thought I was taking her to Cinderella's husband's castle and that she was preparing to live happily ever after!

I was all, "Sweetie, we've got to be super quiet and not even speak in our whispery voices. We have to be silent so they can't hear us! Shhhh." She was all, "Mom, are mama foxes bigger than daddy foxes? And, We don't want them to think we're their food mom, and they'll think that if we're too quiet. I'ma talk."

Then I made B go look at them. Mama was there. He determined that they had built their den in the sandpile, which is odd considering it could just cave in. Maybe there’s some sort of modern fox family home in there, complete with bubble room and foot shower outside for washing debris. I don’t know.

Then I went back and stood in front of the mama fox, about 15 feet separating us, and she didn’t move. Is it because I communicated to her in some way that I came in peace? Right.

Then I made B go back with me one last time to confirm that they would stay put at least until tonight, when TM and I could make our way back down to see them.

When I pulled out of the driveway to get to work this morning, I almost turned in the direction of the foxes because I imagined they were getting ready to go down for the day and I wanted to see that, too.

B's with his dad for the next couple of days while he's at the hospital for knee surgery. He had a nasty fall last week on the rocks here in our yard and the orthopedic surgeon has indicated that surgery is the only option. I'm here and happy in the wilderness with my dog and my girl (and a very shitaceous internet connection, should you be concerned).

This is my Maine.

On Four

Today you're 4. We're going out on a real live lobster boat to hunt for the little treasures of the sea. They're going to take us out to see seals. Should be a smashing good time.

We've had a whirlwind summer again. We've moved, we spent a week at MeMe's, a week at Tybee, and now, Maine. You've seen most of your family by now and have carved out a happy niche for yourself in every place we've been. You've adjusted beautifully and have made me so proud!

I think it helps that Daddy takes you fishing at bedtime every night.

I've made you a princess cake. Pink, of course. I sent daddy out for the makings and he called from the store because he couldn't remember if Sleeping Beauty and Princess Aurora were the same person. You would have scoffed if he'd asked you! Anyway, I thought you should know that the message on the box nearly caused daddy to implode. And me, too, really, if I hadn't seen blogging potential in it.

Last night, before bed, I told you that when you wake up, you're going to be 4! You could barely contain your excitement. Turning 4 must feel like the best thing in the world when you've been three and a half for such a (your words) lonnnnnnng time.

Your dad and I were talking about all the things we'll miss when you're even bigger than 4---the things like already instead of olly and because instead of why. Even the changes we see this year as opposed to last---could you be a better travel companion? Definitely not. You are smart and independent, curious and questioning. You are always up for an adventure and you're funny, too. I've heard you tell your favorite joke 25 times.

Why did the chicken cross the road? To get a cookie!

You think it is hilarious.

Right now you're really into dragons and horses. Your team of horses come with us everywhere and take up residence in the best of all of the places we visit. On our hike the other day, the rocky shoreline---so beautiful---belonged to your horses. Your dragons, all girls of course, and pink and purple, lived across the water on the other side of the inlet. They are nice dragons, you said. You love to tell stories. Sometimes people pass us on the trail and give me a knowing wink like they've been here before.

Your stories may or may not be truthful, depending on your mood. I tell you my Super Power is knowing whether or not you are telling the truth. I think you believe me.

Nature is our theme these days and you're an animal (and book) lover, thank goodness.

Despite the fact that you are growing like crazy and are learning new things at lightening speed, you're still small enough for me to snuggle you at my leisure. You still want "to hold me" and love me and, well, I'm not ready to let that go anytime soon! Stay small and grow, sugar. Is that too much to ask?

I'm so excited about the year ahead. We have so many new things to look forward to! I love you, Sweetpea.

Oh, the love.

We've arrived in Savannah and are staying at a beach house, where TM's "sleeping" on a futon on the other side of the wall from where I'm doing my work. My mom and brother (and his girlfriend) are upstairs and away, watching television and walking on the beach. This is paradise.

TM knows I'm close by. When I told her I was doing my work just 10 feet away, she said, Okay, mom, but if I call for you you hear me, okay? Could I love her any more? Not possible.

We spent the entire afternoon and early evening on the beach, wading in tidal pools (her) and soaking in the breeze and memories of a lifetime of summers at this beach (me).