Show & Tell Friday: Books, Music, Babies & Weddings

Well, it has been about the rainiest July I can remember here in Western North Carolina. The rivers are moving into the flood plains, hiking trails turning into creeks, sugar ants invading the kitchen, mosquitoes buzzing around in relentless packs, and paddlers all around these parts downright rejoicing. We expect the everyday afternoon thunderstorm in the mountains, but this is just silly.

At least some days, like today, we’ve had sun. I hope you are enjoying the summer sun wherever you may be!

Some good stuff to share today:

1.) The Lone Ranger soundtrack:

Love it or hate it (and the critics, of course, hate it) the new Lone Ranger movie has an absolutely incredible score. I saw the movie Saturday night, when my husband took pity on me after a particularly tough week of mama-ing the 3 year-old and the infant (remember: it rained and didn’t stop), so I went by myself. Have you ever been to a movie by yourself? Sitting alone in the pitch dark, drinking a Coke without having to share, and just soaking it in? It’s glorious. And it’s one of my favorite things to do. Everyone should give going to a movie alone a try.

Anyway, back to the music. Hans Zimmer composed the score. His stellar resume also includes Rain Man, Driving Miss Daisy, Gladiator, and many more. I used to watch old black and white reruns of The Lone Ranger on TCM when I was a kid. Sitting in the theatre Saturday, totally caught up in Disney’s raucous escapism, I almost leapt from my seat when the Lone Ranger theme music burst out. Seriously, I looked around for my horse.

2.) What I’m reading right now (and just finished reading):

So I’ve got three books on my bedside table right now. More in-depth detail on these to come, but for now a wee breakdown. First, Raising Your Spirited Child: A guide for parents whose child is more intense, sensitive, perceptive, persistent, and energetic by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka. It was given to me by a friend. Since my almost four year-old is all of the above, it’s been pertinent and incredibly helpful.

Second, A Trail of Fire by Diana Gabaldon. This one includes

four Outlander tales–basically stories involving different characters from her wildly popular Outlander novels. (Outlander is coming to the movie channel Starz as a mini-series in September 2014. If you haven’t read the novels or know who Gabaldon is, and you dig historical fiction, get thee to a library or bookstore forthwith.)

Lastly, there’s The Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling, which I finished last week and is already past due to the library. I have mixed emotions about this one, and I’d love to hear what you all have to say about it if you’ve read it. Besides the fact that it’s a novel for adults, and involves no magic, of course, it does touch on some of the same themes–mainly the existential and often cruel nature of modern life–as does the Harry Potter novels. And it’s dark. Really, really dark.
 



3.)  A truly Southern wedding announcement

My mother-in-law sent me a copy of this wedding announcement that a friend sent to her. The wedding took place on Fenwick Island, South Carolina, and boy if this announcement doesn’t shed a little light on just how particular in our tastes (and a bit nuts) we Southerners are, I don’t know what does.

Here’s a quick sample: “As evening fell, youngsters played in the yard and a canine guest swiped a piece of wedding cake.”

Check the announcement out in its entirety here.


4.) “Keep Your Heart Young”

I can no longer deny my love for singer-songwriter Brandi Carlile. She’s awesome. This is her new music video for a song on her Bear Creek album called “Keep Your Heart Young.” She asked fans to send in home videos that she could add to her own, and apparently quite a few did.

I absolutely love this song, and my oldest daughter and I belt it out in the car whenever we get the chance.

 
5.) Willa, 12 weeks old

I know, I’m shameless. I can’t help it. I’m completely enamored with my new baby girl.

Hope y’all have a great weekend!

Pregnancy Temper Tantrum (or, the Tale of a Hellraising Mama)

This morning, I threw caution to the wind. Got in my car—just my dog and me—and headed for the hills. Played my music LOUD.  Left my life behind.

Goodbye, cruel world. Hasta la vista. Sayonara. Arrivederci.

Eat my dust.

Okay, so I was only headed down the mountain to the vet’s office, so he could remove stitches from my dog’s ear, but still. It was a moment.

Allow me to share:

Have I mentioned that I’m pregnant? Very, very pregnant? And that I have a 3 year-old? A particularly rascally 3 year-old? And a husband who works from home?

I do. And it’s GRAND. But this morning, I got hit with the ornery stick. And everything about all of it—mostly being very pregnant—came to a boiling point. Remember that scene in whatever Will Smith movie it was where the asteroid hits the Earth? Like that.

First, it started with me waking up and realizing that I. was. still. pregnant.

Shocker, right? And how could I tell? The aching hips, legs, ankles. The ginormous belly. Oh, and the fun fact that I no longer possess a jaw line.

And then there was the moment in front of my closet when I realized that since it was going to be a creepy 60 degrees today, I officially had nothing to wear. That even my maternity clothes weren’t fitting comfortably. And I had to go back to my hometown. A place where people actually look presentable on purpose. As I’m standing there, throwing discarded clothing in a pile on my bed that was beginning to resemble Jabba the Hut (the monstrous pregnancy pillow that keeps me sane each night giving it an extra lift), there was some lovely background music.

It went like this: screaming 3 year-old, refusing to go to the potty. Angry daddy threatening the screaming 3 year-old. Dog-on-pain-meds-who-can’t-control-her-bladder barking, for the love of Pete, to be let out of the ever-loving house.

But back to me. In that mature clothes-flinging moment, I also remembered the fact that every single person who has asked when I’m due to have this baby guesses months early. Months. And when I tell them, they’re surprised. Some, mostly men, have told me outright I look like I’m well into my third trimester.

Like the lovely young gentleman (all of about 26 years-old) who sidled up next to me at the Freshens stand in the Atlanta airport a few weeks ago. Our conversation went like this:

Him: (looking down at my belly with a smirk. Yes, a smirk.) Having a baby?

Me: Yep.

Him: How far along are you?

Me: About 23 weeks.

Him: Man, you look more like 30.

Me: Why, you precocious little s%$#.

Kidding. But I thought about it. “One of these days, Alice … POW! Right in the kisser!”

So, back to the ornery stick. It hit me hard this morning. I groaned. And moaned. And pouted. And scowled. And slammed doors. My husband tried to appease me. Nothing he said helped. My daughter tried to appease me. That just made me feel guilty. My dog looked at me with learned wariness, from afar.

Yes, Mr. Melville. I felt like taking to the sea. Like knocking people’s hats off.

In the car on the way down the mountain, I fumed. Thankfully, there were no tourists in front of me, inching down the winding two lane road at 5 miles per hour. (They’ll get here about April. Grrr.) I vented to my dog. I tried to think of a way out of my current situation, but really, there's no cure for being 26 weeks pregnant.

I did this to myself. (My husband helped.) I’m not sure I’m doing it again.

The only thing that soothed my bitter soul? The sweet, raucous sounds of Brandi Carlile’s new album, Bear Creek.

Girl’s got pipes. And songwriting skills to boot. The song on repeat in my car this morning was “Raise Hell.”

Check her out singing live on the Craig Ferguson Show:

So, I’m home now. Calm. (Okay, calmer.) My dog got her stitches out. My daughter had a good day at preschool. My husband is still my husband.

But my temper tantrum of a morning taught me a little something.  

It ain’t pretty, but sometimes—just sometimes—mama needs to raise a little hell.