Back when I worked and Fluevog was king

What defined me before I became a mother? Was it my job as executive director of a non-profit organization? Was it my private piano studio? Was it my public performances as a musician? Was it my stunning good looks and sparkling personality?

No, I think not.

It was my boots.

I've been wearing boots since I was four years old. My first pair were sort of a tan, camel color with rubber soles. I would stuff my jeans into them and zip them up. At least, that's how I remember it. Boots, jeans, and my favorite striped shirt.

Fast forward to high school. It was the 80's. I had little grey ankle boots dubbed 'the elf boots,' and more traditional calf high boots. Most notably, I owned a pair of purple suede boots. Bright purple. Suede. Awesome. I loved those boots.

All grown up now, I still am drawn to boots. I wear them all year. In my first pregnancy, I rocked my boots up until the very end. With Colin, my calves got chunky and I had to move to some Dansko clogs. Without being able to wear my boots, I felt like a frumpy dumpy the whole winter. Boots make me feel dressed. Put together.

I love my Rocket Dogs and my Destroy boots (which, do they only make kids' shoes now?), but most of all, I love my John Fluevogs. The Fluevogs are fantastic, fantabulous boots that are an obscene amount of money. I know this to be true now because after giving birth, you apparently develop a keen sense of don't-spend-any-money-on-yourself. At least, not on a pair of fabulous boots.

So tonight, I'll just window shop and reminisce. Even on clearance, these won't be my boots, but I can love them anyway.

And because it's the now thing to do, I will tell you that I didn't receive any compensation or free stuff for professing my love of John Fluevog. If he offered, I would gladly step off of my bloggy high horse and jump into materialistic blogging with both feet. Both feet looking FABULOUS in those boots, of course.

A really bad day for Shamoopie

It is I, Guy. I am posting for the Shamoopie since she has use of only one hand today. Like the good person she is, she was cooking supper for us when the accident happened. I was reading the recipe to her when the pot ended up on the floor and she went running and crying.

Apparently it's bad to grab a pots handle when it has been in the oven for a while. :) Ouch. She grabbed the handle and then dropped the pot on the floor. Pupstar thought that it was the best thing ever. I was just plain confused as to what was going on. She has been good about keeping ice on it and some aloe. It looks like she will be fine in a few days but until then she is out the use of one hand.

So tonight she was resting on the couch and received an email telling her some really bad news. Her favorite shoe store is closing. No more fabulous boots. :(

We are hoping for a better day tomorrow.

Part of him, part of me

I love it when Guy wakes up before the alarm. Since I never wake up before the alarm (not including the 52 trips to the bathroom each night), that means that he is going to be the one to wake me up.

To be woken up by kisses on the forehead is to have the first thoughts of your day be of how much you are loved. It's a pretty amazing way to wake up.

This morning, I had to be woken up twice. The kisses on the forehead were the first time. Then I dozed off again. I can't help it. There is this spot right below his left shoulder that I just melt into and can't help but relax into slumber.

The second time I woke up, we had turned into spooning, with Guy's hand on my belly. I rolled back over to face him and he says,

"The baby kicked me while you were asleep."

Later, while I was driving to the school for more substitute teaching goodness, I had an emotionally overwhelming thought. It was one of those thoughts that is so incredibly obvious, and when you say it out loud, it sounds almost stupid. An "of course" thought.

When I was young, I used to sit and ponder the fact that I was a unique person. Saying that doesn't find the depth of importance that my mind would explore. The questions that arose from that statement and the way I related and fit into a world of other unique people. It just sounds silly, but it felt like a deep meditation to me.

I had another one of those moments today. I thought about the baby kicking his daddy. It doesn't sound like a deep thought, but it felt like one. The enormity of how lucky I am to have created a life with the man I was created to be with struck me with such force that it took my breath away. That he could feel that life this morning was one of the most amazing things I have experienced.

What has been a really hard week is ending up being pretty wonderful.


A fabulous pair of boots certainly doesn't hurt either. But perhaps that's a bit shallow of me.

I'm laughing now, really

I'm making lists. There are lists of things we will need for the nursery. There are lists of things that I need to do to get my freaking house on the freaking market. There are lists of baby names. Tonight, I give you the list of things that made me cry this week.

1. The ultrasound and tiny heartbeat.
2. Guy carrying my pee through the doctor's office.
3. The news story about abused dogs (that one isn't new though).
4. Pupstar crawling not just into my lap but on top of my computer just to be that much closer.
5. Grey's Anatomy.
6. Another news story about a mom and her two babies found dead in their car in the carport (okay, that one really is quite sad and okay to cry about).
7. The fact that I didn't have the yogurt required to make my smoothie.
8. Lovely leaving Thursday morning and not coming back for another week.
9. Not being able to button my favorite jeans anymore.
10. The Amy Grant Christmas album. I was embarrassed for myself as that happened.
11. Taking a family picture for the Christmas card.
12. Turning on the lights on the Christmas tree.
13. More than one blogger and their insights on motherhood, labor and delivery
(and yes, I read every word), and losing their dog for the night.
14. Pulling into the parking lot of our very own brand spanking new Trader Joe's.
15. The giant hug and smack on the cheek when I told the Dude I play music with that I couldn't gig in July because Cleatus the fetus should be appearing as real live baby then.
16. My mother's voice over the phone. I don't even know what she was saying.
17. The picture of my grandfather from his college days. I was hanging it in my studio.
18. The pet of the day on the noon news.
19. Twiggy singing "In My Life" on the Muppet Show with a background montage of her modeling photos. I'm not even kidding.
20. The card that one of my best friends sent on the day that Guy and I were supposed to have our family wedding. It was this past Saturday. Needless to say, my parents are too sick to come, my brother is stuck taking care of them, and I'm pretty sure I couldn't have squoze into my wedding dress at this point anyway. Thank God we eloped when we did.

On the upside, Guy bought me some new boots tonight from my most favorite shoe store. They are quite fabulous and have no heel. We are getting concerned that I'm going to send my pregnant kapooshy flat on the ground if I continue to wear my standard 3-4 inch heeled boots all the time. I am a girl who must have boots though. Don't you think they are fabulous?