In Only 3 Weeks

To say that we had a packed summer would be an understatement.

We spent one week in Cabarete, Dominican Republic. The next week in Las Terrenas, Dominican Republic. Upon arriving home we went to the Jersey Shore the very next day for my nephew and godson's 5thBirthday Party, followed by our one year anniversary the very next day, and July 4th two days later - all with two dogs and a baby... and that was just the first 3 weeks! That should have been a clue as to how the rest of our summer would unfold.

Being that we are living in another country, our 6 weeks that we had back home for the summer were jam packed full of events, trips, family visits, people to see, places to go, obligatory must-dos, and self-indulgent want-to-do's.

And with that comes loooooots of pictures. Lots of pictures. Looking back at only these first 3 weeks, reminds me of just how much we did in only a few weeks time. No wonder we were even more exhausted after vacation then when we left.

Posting these pictures would be too long and my mom an Mike's parents would probably be the only ones who would want to look through each and everyone of them. But, when they agreed to our move here one of the prerequisites would be that we send lots of pictures home.

Pragmatics sometimes get the best of us and between the end of the school year, moving apartments, summer vacation, and baby raising, I fell a bit short on both the picture taking and the picture posting.

Here are pictures to the first part of our summer. (June 15-July 4)

Summer 2012 - Part 1 from Jennifer Legra on Vimeo.

Top 5 Moments in Dominican Republic 2011-2012

Top 5 Dominican Republic Moments

Husband and I moved here a little over a year ago as newlyweds with two dogs and a baby on the way. We didn't know what to expect about our life abroad. Our emotions were like that Twirl-O-Paint game from the 80's, which by the way, I looooved as a kid. We had so many different shades of emotion just splattering on a twirling carousel that it all seemed a mess. But when we took a step back and looked at the work we had created, all of the shades of color, splattered and twirled actually resembled something quite lovely.

Picture from projectswordtoys.blogspot.com

As an homage to the island that has given us so much including the birthplace of our first born, Rafaella Rubio, I write today about my top 5 moments in the Dominican Republic.

Special Consideration: I should mention that to be fair to other moments, I have taken the birth of Rafaella, out of the running. It wouldn't be fair to the other moments to never have a chance.


Honorable Mention: Acts of Goodness (AOG):
Ok. So this is not exactly one moment but there were so many acts of goodness that I had to include some.

1. "Choo-Choo" - The first AOG being when I had just had Rafaella. Mary, a teacher that works with Mike took it upon herself to start a foodtrain for us. I should note that at the time, we had known Mary for only about 2 months. No matter. She sent out an email on our behalf, asking people to sign up for one day so that we would have premade meals 3 days a week. The thought was beautiful, yes. But the practicality was BEYOND. Had it not been for her AOG that in turn spawned other AOG from other people, I'm not sure that we would have eaten for that first month and a half. And eat well. Enchiladas, Butternut Squash Soup, Brownies, Vegetable Lasagna, Pizza (bike delivered by Erin after her first attempt failed with a pizza down in the middle of the street)
2. "Finding Nemo" - For Jolene's baby shower over 20 of us rented a bus and headed to Boca Chica. After some eating and drinks, we headed over to a volleyball net set up in the water where  one of our friends would soon realize that she had lost her wedding ring! We all began looking frantically. 5 minutes, 10 minutes passed. A group of guys came over and helped us look. 15 minutes, 20 minutes must have passed. Finding a ring in an ocean?! I would be the worst liar if I said that I was hopeful. I was not. The waves alone move things all the time, burying them under sand, not to mention 20-30 feet combing the sand trying to find a shiny ring. I enlisted the help of the snorkler guide at the hotel who came with his mask. Our friend, herself, was convinced of the ring's gone-ness. We were all thinking it - "It's Gone" - but no one wanted to be the one to say, "Sorry about your lost ring. Could I get you a Margarita?" When suddenly, the snorkler guide shot up out of the water with a small, shiny wedding ring! Imagine his surprise when 10 grown - and might I add quite good looking - women jumped on him with pure ecstasy. Apparently, you can find a needle in a haystack!

#5: "Gobble, Gobble"
Being that it was the first Thanksgiving not with my family, I knew it was bound to be a little emotional. So when i spoke to my mom on Thanksgiving and she said she missed me, that it wasn't the same without me and that this was "the first Thanksgiving after 31 years we haven't been together" I might have lost it all together. But Ryan was cooking a turkey and I was playing Christmas music and plans for the next day's Thanksgiving Football Game on the beach were being made. I realized as we sat around eating turkey that while I missed spending the holiday with my family, sitting with others and being thankful was the point of Thanksgiving - and that you could do with anyone. And although it wasn't fall weather and I wasn't waiting for Santa to finish off the Macy's parade to signify the begininng of the Christmas season, and Sister's husband wasn't awaiting the yearly Cowboy's game we had our own traditions starting. And our own fall football game being played... overlooking the ocean... not too shabby.

Doesn't everyone nap after Thanksgiving Dinner?

Our Thanksgiving Weekend family portrait

#4: "Bravo"
We had heard about Pub Quiz and knew it was something that was totally up our alley. But being that our due date was around the date of that night we weren't entirely sure that we would make it. Rafa  came two weeks before so any worries of our water breaking movie style in the middle of Pub Quiz were alleviated. However, it was still really soon to leave our little newborn, right? Luckily my mom was there and with her pushing, Husband's pushing, and Shayna Friend and Jeff Friend pushing we decided we would go. We arrived a little late and the questioning had already started so everyone was in their seat so when we entered all eyes turned to Husband and I. It was the first time since I'd had Rafa that I had seen many of these people and the first time they had seen me. We opened the door to walk to our seat. A hug, a wave, a high five while walking to my table would have been acceptable but what I got was soooooooooo much better. The whole room began to clap and hoot and holler. And if you know me, you know that I am not one to shy away from the limelight... in fact, I quite love it. But this spotlight I was not expecting. Maybe dreamed of it but never expected it.

P.S. I'm trying to plan my next due date around the next Pub Quiz.

(Pictures below of our team "The Chickety China the Chinese Chickens")

#3: St. Patrick's Weekend
5 months after Rafa was born, Husband was fabulous enough to let me go away for a much needed no responsiblity Jen weekend with a few friends. Since we live on a spanish speaking Caribbean island there are not many Irish bar options besides O'Shay's in Cabarete. So off we went, 4 hours, to arguably the best and most well-known Irish pub on the island. A few years ago, this weekend would have been a shit show - pardon the phrase. But now, it was a much needed getaway to just do what I wanted to do: sit, sleep, play volleyball, sip champagne while sitting in a pool overlooking the ocean, drink beers with a hundred other people while listening to bagpipes, Irish jig, Irish jig with strangers, Irish jig into the ocean, take whiskey shots bought by parents from our school, throw Beckett in the ocean, find a dog, name him Patty, think about keeping him, talk to people about things not related to a feeding schedule, drink a cappuccino while it was still warm without playing keep it away from baby hands. Thank you for knowing I needed this, Husband.

                                               

#2: Fa, La, La, La...What?!
Add my favorite time of the year to my favorite activity and you get COLMADO CAROLING! It was no shocker that I was going to love Colmado Caroling but it climbed to the top of my list instantly. We began at our building and caroled from Colmado to restaurant to hair salon to colmado to gas station that doubles as a colmado (with the nicest bathroom I've ever seen at a gas station), to apartment building, to French bakery, to hair salon number 2, to domino playing colmado, to our final destination, the supermarket(?) all the while drinking Presidente Jumbos (that means large beer for those not sure) and providing some basic dance moves. Many of the Dominican locals LOVED it and joined in on the celebration. The other Dominican locals, well I'm not quite sure what they thought besides maybe "here come some gringo locos." Colmado Caroling gave me one more reason to love the crap out of Christmas.

Uninterested: 1, 2, 3 who thought we were 

And here are all of the reasons why they thought we were crazy...

 

 

                         

#1: Renting an ATV for the week in Las Terrenas

If this was your daily commute view on a 4-wheeled machine that blows the wind in your face and makes you feel free as a bird, this would be your #1 too!

 All week, I drove up and down this road on my ATV and let me just say, it never got boring. Riding up and down this street in particular with the ocean and sand to my side and the wind blowing in my hair was something out of a movie... maybe Top Gun? but I understood every time I rode this path why people chose to make this place their home. I drove it to the beach and into town. I looked forward to food shopping; sometimes I think I subconsciously forgot to buy groceries just so that I'd have to go back out on the darn thing. And in total Dominican style, we piled 4 people and 1 dog on our all terrain vehicle and rode it up a mountain.

Unfortunately the camera did not catch the 4th head and the dog.

It is an understatement to say that giving the keys back to Maria, the shop owner, was a sad moment. As should be all moments in life, I enjoyed each and every moment on the ATV fully and completely.

There are sooooo many more specific moments that didn't make this list: Colmado Wednesdays, Volleyball at the Malecon, FOCUS Fridays, Jarabacoa (both visits), The Bluffs... the list could continue. Thank you DR for making this year so incredible of a year that we have questioned how long our life abroad should be. 

Happy not Crappy

The world sometimes is such a downer.

Every time I turn on the news I'm reminded of this:

Grandma shoots her grandson in self defense

Shooting in Movie Theater

Mother Runs her Car Off Road

People are shooting each other with guns they bought off the internet, countries are dying over oil, religion, property, money, land, etc, etc, etc, pregnant women are getting pushed out of jobs because as told by Business Insider, "Although the Pregnancy Discrimination Act of 1978 says that it's illegal for employers to "fire, demote, reassign, or refuse to hire a woman for being pregnant," the law doesn't say that pregnant women should be treated differently while carrying a child. This means that if she can't pick up the 70 pounds of boxes she usually can, her employer has the right to dismiss her from her job." 

Ahh... yes, intelligent employer, I see how you did that. Pregnant women shouldn't lift heavy things so you could dismiss her for not doing her job. 

DOWNER. 

But...

Maybe all the world isn't a downer. Maybe there are just some really crappy people that do really crapy things. Maybe the crappy people get more attention because like a car wreck we just can't help but watch. And maybe we have to change what we look at. 

Cause maybe there's a lot of not downer things too:

Man Comes to the Aid of Drowning Dog

Captain Lands Airplane in Hudson River during Heroic Rescue

Firefighters from Around the Country Help at Ground Zero

Maybe there are just as many people doing heroic, life-changing, funny, spiritual, happy, dancy things. Maybe there are just as many uplifting stories and we just need to be reminded that as much crappy as there is, there is also just as much happy... we just have to notice it. 

Here are some things to lighten, brighten, and bring you up this weekend. Happy Friday!

Animal Odd Couple

SuperGranny Stops Robbery

My Rafa Laughing for the 1st Time

Grieving Dog Stays by Deceased Owner's Grave

SoulPancake's Air Orchestra

Ellen Scares Bethany on Halloween - always makes me laugh.

Dreaming Dog

And if those don't do it for you how about a happy, laughing baby...

or you could always just watch Oprah. That B**** is always doing something uplifting! 

Mommy Guilt

Dear Mommy Guilt,

I hear you. Like the serpent in the tree, slithering around quietly with determination, waiting for just the right moment... I HEAR YOU.

Every morning I wake up and walk into my favorite time of day: mornings with my daughter. She is well rested and doe-eyed and talkative and big smiles when she hears the door creep open. I like to think that she's all of these things to see me,  her mami,  but in full disclosure, she knows that mami comes bearing a bottle of milk so really her happiness rests solely on drinking that bottle. Those moments when we sit on her rocking chair and she holds her bottle close with her own two little hands are some of my favorites. She doesn't sit still often - if ever - so those moments in the morning when she's still and content are what I imagine people think of when they believe that being a mother is heavenly.

Mommy Guilt you can't talk to me here. You don't exist here. You can't. Because here I'm a good mommy. When I put her in her high chair and make breakfast as she watches me with curious monkey eyes, I'm still a good mommy because well, eating is a necessity, right? So I'm allowed that luxury. And when I plunk her into her baby walker and we head to my room so that I could get dressed and ready for the day, she loves it. She gets to be independent while playing with mami's makeup and exploring our room, which is normally off limits to her. She watches me put on make-up and change my clothes... I'm sure wondering all the while why I would be changing when I haven't peed or pooped my pants.

Mommy Guilt, I know you're maaaaad. I can feel it. Cause you still can't touch me here. You can't make me feel bad. I'm here mommying the crap out of my kid and You can hit the road.

But then I'm ready to leave...

and Mommy Guilt...
because you're so patient...

you, Mommy Guilt, say... "GOTCHA!"

You say What a bad mami you are. Leaving. You have the chance, the opportunity, to stay at home with this precious little life and you're leaving? To write? To work for a few extra dollars? Dollars that aren't worth the time you're missing with your daughter. 

You continue.

Other moms would trade places with you in an instant to be able to stay home and watch their little angels grow and play and be. And here you are... leaving?

You, Mommy Guilt, are a jerk when you use my daughter's crying against me. The crying isn't even a long, wailing cry; it's a split second where-are-you-going cry, a this-is-the-only-way-I-know-how-to-communicate-my-not-happy-feelings cry. It lasts all of 10 seconds after I close the door and then stops. I know this because I stand on the opposite side of that door, listening, making sure she's ok. And she always is. But all the same, I feel terrible, and you, Mommy Guilt, win that battle.

I mean, seriously? How hard is it to leave this crying face?

But you know what, Mommy Guilt? We didn't always listen to you.

Mommies used to have kids on the farm and go back to roosting hens, picking the vegetables, and milking cows the next day. Mommies, who were good mommies, had babies and put them in their playpen to entertain themselves while they vacuumed and watched Soap Operas and made dinner.  Some mommies, had babies and went back to work - without you, Mommy Guilt, you rat bastard - and came home and made a Swenson Microwaveable Salisbury Steak Dinner and then ate in front of the Ed Sullivan Show. You didn't exist to them.

Somewhere between then and now, you became a looming, all-encompassing, infiltrating entity. And even I, who know what you're doing, who know that you feed off of my guilt, even I, allow you in. I allow you to tell me that what I am writing isn't important, is immaterial in comparison to staying home. I allow you to tell me that I'm wasting the gift of time that I have with my daughter. I allow you to make me feel selfish about wanting to fulfill my dreams. I allow you to compare me to other women that seemingly do it better... whatever that means. And I allow you to make me insecure about being a good mother just because I still want to a woman, a friend, a wife, a writer and not just a mother.

Well, you know what, Mommy Guily... bring it. I'm nothing if not a fighter. I've fought demons and negativity and plenty of other battles and I always win the war. I have more self confidence and belief in myself than I know what to do with sometimes. Better people have tried to make me insecure and they've failed. So I know you will have their same fate.

I know it won't be easy and I know I will face you everyday. Everyday I will come up against you and everyday I will remind myself that being this person is what makes me the best mother I could be for my daughter: the mother that loves her daughter very much but won't give up being who she is. Cause you know what Mommy Guilt? That's what I want for my daughter. I want her to be the kind of person that never gives up on who she is because someone made her feel bad. Because someone made her feel guilty. She will be who she wants to be without guilt for it and she can start to learn how to be that by my example.

So, shh.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Say what you want. Keep saying it. Say it loud. Say it daily. Say it endlessssssly. Keep it coming.

Oh yeah, Mommy Guilt... there are mommies that have to work and I'm choosing to? Yep. You're right. I am. So what?

Oh yeah... there are mommies that are sad to end the day and put their little ones to bed each night? I'm not. And you know what, neither is Husband. That's the time when we get to fall in love with each other again - which is the most important thing we could do for our daughter.

Yeah? Really, Mommy Guilt... there were/are other mommies who did it better? Who stayed home and played with their babies, and kept the house, and had dinner ready for their husbands while still looking trim and beautiful?

Guess what? Many of those mommies also smoked cigarettes and drank whisky at noon.

So, try again tomorrow, Mommy Guilt. Same time. Same place.

I'll be there. 

Grinch Grin - Gabriel Saldana (original; cropped at DTWB)

Love at First Lake

Sometimes, as a parent, you're not sure what kind of kid you are going to have. Will they be risk takers, adventure seekers or will they prefer the comfort of a good book in a good chair in a quiet corner of their house? Will they be outspoken or shy? Will they be the kind of kid that needs to study hard or will it come easy for them? Will they be the one laughing at the jokes or cracking them? Will they like cheese?

When they're little, you can't always tell what they are going to be like, but sometimes...

When I was young, my family visited Rio de Janiero. We were at the beach and my father, as always, had his video camera - the monstrous kind from the 80's that you had to join a gym just to be able to carry and have a camera grip license in order to shoot. He documented everything and as such caught a moment on tape that was very telling to my life with water. 

Videoing me looking at the ocean he said, "Go in." And I looked at him and then back at the water and then at him again and very surely, with no doubt in my voice hummed, "No." Even with his famous taunts, "You're chicken," I was sure that as one of my mom's Cuban "dichos" goes "a mi no se me ha perdido nada ahi." (I haven't lost anything in there meaning that the only way I would go somewhere - in this case - the ocean - was to retrieve something I had lost.) I knew very young that the ocean, the sea, rivers, lakes, ponds, a bathtub with floating rubber duckies - any biggish body of water where little animals and things could be swimming in my immediate area was not for me.

But Rafa already seems to be a different story. She was a little over two months old the first time we dipped her little dangling feet into the ocean and other than an initial surprised by rushing water response she immediately sank into it, figuratively speaking of course. 

"My First Dip"

This summer she met with Lake Owassa. Husband Mike, who has long since loved his summers at the lake was excited (major understatement) to introduce his first born to the place he has referred to before as the best place on Earth. I can only imagine what went through his whole body and soul watching her play in that lake. 

To add excitement on top of happiness, we were able to not only watch Rafa swim in the lake but to watch her swim in the lake with Jake. Jake has been so many things to us that to list them all here would be a whole other blog story to tell, but believe me when I tell you that there is no shortage of special when it comes to the eyes in which we view Jake. Jake left work early, rearranged plans during the summer, and even set foot into a church (you'd have to know him to understand) to make sure that he was with Rafa as often as he could be. "Is Ella there?" He would ask if we were over, just wanting to make sure he wasn't rushing home on account of only Mike an I. (Insert smile that comes with knowing that people will now always say hi to your cute baby first and you second.)

I can't say for certain if Rafa will grow up to be book smart or street smart. I don't know if she will be a graceful dancer or have two left feet (doubtful, very doubtful). And I can't say if she'll be a competitive athlete or someone who doesn't really care for the game. But based off of the fun she had in the lake, I could almost guarantee that she'll love the water as much as her dad and Uncle Jake do... God help us all. 

...especially her fearful of the water mother.

The Story of Us: An Anecdote of a Tribe's Year

I wrote this after my senior year of college; to remember September 11 but mostly to capture our tribe, our group of friends bonded together for many reasons but 9/11 being a big one. Our tribe helped me through those days; I hope we helped each other through it. 

The Story of Us: An Anecdote of a Tribe's Year

(with the help of Dave Matthews Band lyrical genius)

  

It's 2 am, I'm drunk again

And I think of how many times this

Motley group of individuals has shared that line

After a night with our bartender,

Drinking a hope to happy years.

We spent endless nights

Trying to find rhyme and reason in this

Scary and beautiful life, always wondering

Maybe if things had been slightly different we could be somebody else.

But we made the choices we made and those choices

Led us to each other:

The poet, the reason, the humor, the singer, the

perspective

All bringing something entirely unique

To an unforgettable tribe.

And there we were,

In our loft, our Camelot,

Sitting on top of the world with our legs hanging free,

Eating, drinking, and being merry for tomorrow

Was just a new day, like everyday,

To do it all over again.

Cause it turns out not where, but who you're with that really matters.

It was a typical situation in a

Not so typical time- crazy,

The world was

Out of control, but so were we,

Right side up or upside down, who knew- who cared.

The "Jesus" that's who.

We were at a time when

Under the weight of life things seemed

So much better on the other side,

But within the solace of each other's

Nonjudgmental judgments

It was always the other side- the better side.

You and me have a better time than most can dream

Magical,

Unfathomable,

Timeless,

Something that no matter where our lives take us

She will go stumbling through her memories

And remember of a time when we let the hours roll by

Doing nothing for fun.

And how did we get to be the chosen few,

Lucky enough to come together

In a year when so many things fell apart.

We were people in every direction

So different

Exactly the same,

Where you end, where I begin.

And I know you because I know me

And I know

There's not a moment to lose in the game,

So we have to celebrate,

And celebrate we did

Because this year especially we learned

That life is short but sweet for certain.

But you know that, don't you?

Of course you do

Because we learned it together.

All night sessions, questioning life, investigating the truth, and

Doing what we needed to do

To make ourselves feel just a little safer,

And just a little more valiant,

And just a little more comfortable living where we were.

And whether that's right or wrong

It makes us want to stay for a while,

Or forever

If it were up to me.

But as all things go, some will leave

And I'll wonder why they had to go

Why would you care to get out of this place?

You and me and all of our friends are

Such a happy human race.

Others will have to move

And I will lose my best friend and thus my soulmate.

My grace is gone,

And I will cry

For I will have lost

For the first and only time this year.

And I hate losing!

But you knew that too, didn't you?

And we all thought for a moment that

This good time would never end,

But we all knew it would have to.

We were an era that began abruptly one

Almost beautiful Tuesday morning when we awoke

To an empty sky,

An empty sky that inevitably, filled our hearts with each other.

And we could be sure...

I will be sure,

That I will not lie in my grave

Wondering if I spent my living days well,

Because I will have spent them with you.

September 10th: The Day We Always Forget

Today is a regular day.

Wake up.
Drink water.
Brush teeth.
Eat breakfast.
Leave house.
Go to work.
See friends.
Make plans.
Come home.
Hang out.
Go to sleep.

Today is a regular day... except that today is the day before September 11.

I've written about September 11. I've talked about it, been choked up about it, thought about it, cried about it, accepted it, never forgotten it. I lived it and It lives with me.

And though I've never written about this day before, about September 10, I've often thought a lot about it - about how it was the last day that I could ever again in my life think that the worst couldn't happen to me because the fact of the matter is and always will be that the worst can happen to anyone.

There isn't a month better than September. In fact, when I was pregnant with Rafaella, I had secretly hoped that she would come a week early so that she would be born in September. The cooler weather, the flavors of pumpkin and cinnamon, the neutral colors turned from summer bold to autumn warm, the feeling of the promise of the beginning of the year; I have always adored September. And for me, there was no better place than Autumn in New York City... well except maybe Christmas in New York City.

I tell you this not so that you understand my love for September but so that you understand my innocent and young mindset on September 10.

I had just started another year of college, my last year of college. I had spent the week moving into the best city in the world to a new apartment with good friends - best friends. In fact, tomorrow - Tuesday, the 11th - would complete my first week of classes. But how could I have known on a regular Monday, that that would not happen. Looking back, I could film it as one of those scenes a movie where the director's camera follows the young, unsuspecting actress pedaling her bike down the same familiar roads she always bikes down. With that certain kind of music playing, you know something is about to happen but the actress, well, how could she have any idea that in only a few moments, life as she knew it would never be the same. There is no warning because there is no dark alley or loud noise. She doesn't know to be careful because the sky is blue and the day is just like any regular day.

That night, I went to my friend's apartment. As the Resident Assistant of West Street, she was on duty that night. So I went to her apartment to have some wine and catch up. It got late. She asked to stay over. I don't know why I didn't. Normally, I'd have said yes. But it was September and the night was beautiful out. I'll walk home, I told her. I walked home and slept soundly in my bed until the next morning. That's what I remember about September 10th.

The next morning, the windows at most of those West Street apartments had blown in from the explosion of the first tower. Only a few blocks away from my own apartment, where I had been the night before drinking wine, people were taking showers and starting their normal morning routine only to walk out of the bathroom and into a smoke filled living room.

But on September 10th, the days were still normal. On September 10th, a rumble was just a rumble and not a cement and steal dragon crashing straight into the ground. On September 10th, smoke was what filled Ryan's Pub every Thursday night and not what turned our perfectly blue skies into dark night within moments of a tower falling to its grave. On September 10th, life as I knew it was still normal.

Today is a regular day.

Wake up. 

Drink water. 

Brush teeth. 

Eat breakfast. 

Leave house. 

Go to work. 

See friends. 

Make plans. 

Come home. 

Hang out.

Go to sleep.

Except for, of course, that today, 11 years ago, was the day before September 11.

Here It Comes

Funny how a melody sounds like a memory...

                                  Springsteen by Eric Church

Not many things are as deep-rooted, ingrained and buried in your soul as music. A song can take you back to a moment, a place, a year, a so very specific feeling that you remember what you wearing, what the room smelled like, what the air felt like, how fast your heart was beating, what you were thinking at each moment. A song can bring you back so explicitly to a time with a feeling so the same that the goosebumps it brings back feel like the same goosebumps you had that moment so long ago.

What is it about music that can do that to us, that can take us back and drop us smack in the middle of a moment, a time in our life so sweet?

When you are lucky enough to have someone to share your life with (be it a friend, partner, soulmate), songs become markers of your time together. Add to that two people who have grown up with music in their bones and music becomes a major part of identifying your relationship as is the case with me and Husband Mike.

Songs transport Mike and I to different eras of our relationship: Signed, Sealed, Delivered (Stevie Wonder) brings us to our wedding ceremony, Good Life (One Republic) brings us to our first year abroad, Feeling Good (Michael Buble) brings us directly back to sitting in my car outside of my house, eating pizza before we headed to the mall on one of our first little dates together.

But few songs bring it back to a deeper place like Van Morrison's "Here Comes the Night". Whew! Does that song bring something back. It doesn't just bring back the place, the moment, the year; it brings back a vintage collection of feelings boxed in its original case, tucked in a secret drawer of two people that are exactly the same living very different lives than when they had first started out.

This songs transports me to a moment in time before we were real adults. We were utterly in love - stinkin' silly love - the kind with no bills and no kids - no dogs even. Our time was our own. Want to take a walk? sure. Want to play catch at the park? Yeah. Want to lay on the floor and talk? MmmHmm. And even more enticing? Our time was limited. Because we didn't live together the excitement of being together was thick enough to make the air hard to breath. We didn't make any excuses to be alone because we were still so new that there was nothing more exciting than getting to know each other. Why waste time muddled with other people? It only gets in the way of being with you.

Oh my I miss those times sometimes.

I love where our life has journeyed. And I love that we have journeyed it together, side by side. But remembering the times when each other was the only priority is bittersweet. Oh yes, we still make time for each other. Dare I say that we spend a lot of time with just one another. We make sure that the babe is asleep every night by 7:00pm so that we could eat an uninterrupted dinner together: eating, talking, just being. At least, one night a weekend is devoted to Movie Night - complete with a projector for the chosen rented movie of the night. We go grocery shopping and run errands together. We spend hours a week talking - not about the baby's schedule or what bills need attention, but about life and things we've read, and interesting ideas, and work (when you are married to a teacher, I believe you can't help but talk about best practices and reaching kids). I thoroughly and completely enjoy Husband Mike's company. I could say that honestly and openly and without him needing to pay me to say it.

But after 5+ years of being together, the mystery of it all escapes you a little. It's not so new to see Mike everyday because, well, we live together so I'm supposed to see him everyday. I see him in every way shape or form that you could imagine seeing someone - sometimes in ways I wish I didn't see him.

And please don't look into this and tell me that infatuation shouldn't fizzle out just because you get married and have kids and take on responsibilities, that we must keep the courtly romance alive. Of course it's going to fizzle out. Because we are no longer two ships sailing freely with abandon and without anchors on the open sea. We are one big fucking tanker now. One big boat with a crew and lots of anchors. 3 anchors to be exact. 3 very cute and heavy anchors. And sailing this kind of boat isn't as romantic or liberating - it's hard work.

But, if you can stay strong together, the courtly romance makes way for other amazing things like passion, intimacy, deep friendship, unwavering loyalty, true romance - the kind that moves you to make dinner when you know the other person is utterly exhausted.

And when all else fails, we still have Van and "Here Comes the Night."

...here it comes. 

That will never change.