Little Things that Make me Happy

This afternoon, I was sitting in my car waiting for Henry to finish up in the bathroom so we could head out to pick kids up from school. The front door was still open, so my dog ran straight down the porch steps and jumped into the car, sitting down in between the captains chairs like there was nowhere else on earth that he belonged. He looked at me with this look on his face that just said, "What? You don't want me to come?" So of course, he came with us to make the rounds and retrieve the children from their respective schools. He's a good dog. Just the other day he jumped on the couch beside me, on a space that couldn't have been more than eighteen inches wide, draped one leg over my shoulder and the other across my pregnant belly. And again... the look. "What? This isn't comfortable for you?" Of course I'm comfortable! It's perfectly normal for fifty pound black labs to be lap dogs.

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Want to know what I'm wearing on my feet? Big fuzzy boots. I got them for Christmas, and you know what? I love them. The exciting thing about the boots is that in order to wear them, I mean REALLY wear them, I had to buy some skinny jeans. I've shied away from the style in the past because, hello, my legs aren't exactly skinny, but these boots, people, they are so soft and wonderful and warm and I NEEDED to wear them. And so I am. And I am happy doing so. Chubby knees and all.

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Can we talk about something important for a moment? I'm currently enrolled in a class on writing narrative biographies. It's been a great opportunity to do some extensive research about my own family. For one assignment, I recorded an oral interview with each of my parents, asking them questions about their childhood homes and the role that faith played in the way they were raised. Now, I'm pretty close to my parents. I thought I knew a great deal about their lives, but oh, what an incredible experience it was to hear them speak of their parents, and the experiences that contributed to the kind of people that they are today. I've also called and had several conversations with extended family members, with very specific questions about their families. Overwhelmingly so, I have realized that my family? These are my people. I've heard stories about my great grandmother, someone I never knew personally, that remind me so much of my grandfather, who I did know, and that explain a great deal of why my Mom is who and what she is. I've heard my father tell me stories that came from his father that so clearly indicate why my father grew up to be such an incredible man. Finding the common threads that weave our families together can be such a rewarding experience. 

My Mom and Dad. Lovely, aren't they?

If you haven't lately, be sure to ask questions. Often, when my conversations would begin, the person I was interviewing would say, "Oh, I don't remember much" but then, the more we spoke, the more they were able to recall. And specific questions were able to prompt stories and experiences that might not have been recalled otherwise. So. Get out your cell phone (most are equipped with some sort of digital recorder), get out some paper for note taking and ASK questions to the people that matter. Find your people, then find out what makes them your people. Not just your relatives, but your people - the ones who are a part of who you are.You won't be sorry you did. I promise.

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Want to know what I'm excited about? I'm 85 pages into my second novel and it's making me really happy. The story is taking shape in a way that has me itching to write every spare moment that I've got. I've been struggling to find my footing with this one. Pregnant brain, I think, but I've found my groove and now the words are coming. So, yay for that.

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Okay, just one more. My baby? The baby that will only be my baby for three more months? She's finally figured out how to say the V in her own name. She has successfully graduated from "I-eeee" to "I-beee" to an officially correct "I-VEEEE!" It's the most adorable thing ever. She also says, "Oh, no, no, no, no, no" when you ask her to do something that she doesn't want to do.

"Ivy, are you ready to go to bed?"

"OH, no, no, no, no, no!!"

She's so flippin cute. She also has to kiss every single person in our family good night, every single time she goes to bed. If we forget and head upstairs without her kisses, she says, "I kiss eh-body!" And to think, some people might argue kids in big families get less love.

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26 Weeks. Yes, Yes, I know I'm blurry.
But Lucy took the picture, with my cell
phone no less. I'm not so blurry you can't
see the belly though, no?

Okay, maybe just one more little one. My baby? The one still incubating? He gets hiccups all the time. It always makes me smile, as does the amount of time my children spend touching my tummy, begging baby Charlie to move. I hear the question at least ten times a day.

"Is Charlie kicking?"

And this little boy - he doesn't disappoint. He's a kicker, this one. A kicker that already responds to the sounds of his siblings voices. It makes my heart happy to see them excited about his approaching arrival. You know, we get a lot of complaining about shared bedrooms and crowded cars and busy schedules, but really, truly, I believe my children when they tell me they wouldn't trade it.

Because we're people, see? We're in it for each other, through thick and thin. And that pretty much rocks.