My birthday is approaching. I’m like a rabbit on the interstate at 2am with an 18-wheeler speeding toward me. I’ll blink and it will be here and over and I’ll be a year older.
DD asked me what I want. I told him kitchen tools. Yeah, I know. But I love kitchen tools, I really do. And I have been hard at work in the kitchen, the garden, my friends’ vineyard, putting up goodies for the winter. My freezer can barely hold another gram of produce. I’m dreaming of an even bigger stock pot and a pressure canner.
But when I am quiet and look deep in myself I just want this beautiful, simple life we have together. I love being home with my children, spending my days in the garden and kitchen.
Despite the Titanic sinking of my ill-fated marriage and the misery that followed in its wake what I really want is to marry again.
Secretly I want to be barefoot and pregnant.
If I am bluntly honest I what I want for my birthday is for DD to propose. I want health insurance and my IUD out. I want another baby. I’m not getting any younger.
I am sure that evil old “biological clock” is part of this yearning and accounts for most of this feeling of impatience and hurry that lurks behind and nips at my heals.
And the other part is that I have never experienced love like we have now. Despite the rocky years, my relationships and marriage in our time apart, the battle scars we earned before ever meeting each other, we have a very pure, simple love. It is intimate and deep without being possessive or needy. And I want to feel his baby kick inside me. To know I am growing a piece of us. When I was pregnant with Little Girl the pressure and stress we faced meant that neither of us got to enjoy the magic moments of it. We had to stay focused on taking care of the basic needs and there was no left-overs for joy. But now, we have made it. We aren’t college kids making by on the GI Bill and Pell Grants, we’re a young, middle class family with an unusual degree of stability and comfort. We beat the odds.
To add to my longing, Little Girl’s been asking for a little brother (when interrogated she said a sister’d be OK too). I told her to ask her Dad. So she did. And he said it was up to me… to which I said there are a few prerequisites that need taken care of first…