If I had been the type of woman who would have, ya know, read through “What To Expect When You’re Expecting” in its entirety the week I had found out I was pregnant just to know every possible scenario ahead of time, I might have been a little less shocked when I started having all-consuming thoughts and daydreams about pregnancy, labor, delivery, sleep deprivation, breastfeeding, OMG SCHOOLS! and how I could convince Penny to not date that guy with chemical dependencies at age sixteen. Cause that started around week twenty, and now at week twenty-two, being in the throes of all that over-thinking and anxiety, I am reading how very “normal” and “hormonal” it is for this time.

All of the reading and thinking has led me to one definite conclusion: I am most certainly going to screw this kid up. But I take comfort in knowing that I had the world’s greatest parents and the world’s greatest childhood and still found myself needing about a years worth of therapy in my early twenties. And a swift kick in the pants. I could probably use another one of those.

So Penny, I apologize that I’m going to make lots and lots of mistakes, and that lots of those mistakes will be made on you, being the oldest child. This will not be the only time I apologize to you, it will be the first of many. And while we’re breaking the bad news, let me assure you that your father is not nearly as superhuman as you will wind up believing he is. He is also not Sting, but it still drives me wild watching him play bass on stage.

In the midst of all of this ANXIETY! I determined it would be a very good time for me to start practicing all of those quacky breathing exercises and relaxation techniques that the midwives are telling me about. You know the routine, be in a calm environment listening to Bob Marley while visualizing your natural labor with ocean waves crashing over you, and basically everything needed for a very mellow vegan evening except for the weed. Might relax you so much the baby would come prematurely, that’s all.

So last night I drew myself a nice hot bubble bath, lit some candles and headed into the bathroom for some one-on-one time with my little girl. I had read how great it is to just think about her and talk to her, to ask her to cooperate with me throughout the remainder of my pregnancy and into labor, and that she would respond. Ha! If it’s not apparent to everyone who has ever tried to draw my blood, I am the Queen Of Not Being Able To Visualize My Way Out Of Panic Attacks, so I had very very low expectations. Except that maybe my back would stop hurting a little bit.

I asked Matt to put on my “Moondance” vinyl, and I kid you not, as soon as the first strains of “And It Stoned Me” wafted to my ears, I was instantly at ease. My mind wandered to the two Van Morrison shows that Matt has taken me to in Boston and feeling him look over and grin when he saw the enormous smile plastered across my face. As the band broke into each and every next song I would lean over and whisper to Matt, “No, THIS is my favorite song!” And he would whisper back, “I wanna be his organ player!”

And there I was, enormous and immersed in our (newly caulked!) tub with the same huge Van Morrison grin on my face. I started humming along and thinking about labor and delivery, and dude, bring it on! As long as I have Vanny I can make it without an epidural! All of a sudden, Penelope started dancing along. Because of my placenta previa I haven’t been able to feel her much other than slight blurps, and now out of nowhere she was banging her little arms and legs all around.

“Moondance” came on, and I imagined Matt dancing with his daughter in a classy piano bar while the band covers Vanny, just like my dad did with me once. I called him over, and after a brief wait she belted my stomach as stinkin hard as she could allowing Matt to feel his daughter move for the first time. I think she’s gonna have sweet moves out on the dance floor, just like her daddy.

I flopped in the water until the album had been flipped over and slowed to a stop. Last night was a rush. Like you know the moment that guy that you’ve only ever ogled from afar for a solid three years finally takes your face into his hands and kisses you for the very first time? That was last night. I know I talk so frequently about how pregnancy sucks, and the majority of the time it does. But last night rocked my soul.

Penny Cate, I’m gonna make mistake after mistake. But I promise to never go a day without loving you. And I won’t go a day without forcing you to listen to some Van Morrison. You’ll thank me one day.

You can take all the tea in China
Put it in a big brown bag for me
Sail it right around the seven oceans
Drop it smack dab in the middle of the deep blue sea
Because she’s as sweet as tupelo honey
She’s an angel of the first degree
She’s as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee
She’s my baby, you know she’s alright…

Dear Les Paul-

We miss you already. My heart hurts to think about where we would be without multi-track recording. Not to mention the solid bodied electric guitar and your skilled playing.

You don’t remember us, but we remember you. My husband and I, only three days married, went to that dusty little basement club in Manhattan on our honeymoon to hear you play with your band. We got off the subway at the wrong stop and were stumbling around the Trump tower on a hot September night trying to find our bearings. When we finally arrived at the club, my feet were screaming in pain after walking twenty one blocks in the world’s most uncomfortable heels.

Oh, but it was SO WORTH IT! We gawked and stared, marveling in how well you could play at 89 years of age. We were seeing a legend right in front of our very eyes. In the next few years we saw other legends play – Paul McCartney, Eric Clapton, Van Morrison and Ramsey Lewis, just to name a few. But none come close to that magical night listening to you croon to US – young newlyweds.

You are missed greatly. And musicians and engineers tip their hats to you today.

With Love-

-Priscilla

It’s becoming our Tuesday night ritual. We started last week with Pops in tow, and this week we headed downtown to listen to the weekly jam. A few different musicians showed up to spice things up, but we were a little bit devastated when they played a lot of the same songs from last week. Regardless, they are some of the finest musicians we’ve ever heard. AND SUPER NICE! The invite was extended to Matt to bring his bass and play next time.

We had hoped to see this guitarist again, and he did in fact show up. I’ll catch his name in the future, but MAN could he play.

From Daily Daguerreotype

I’m also getting into Abita – a brew from Louisianna. It hasn’t replaced Harpoon in my heart, but I prefer it to all the Yuengling they’re serving down here (much to Matt’s delight).

My girl D has finally done it. She’s started a new blog. I love her beyond words. And so will you. Check it out.

Dub and I had a nice long conversation today about the merits of making lots of money and giving it away in a non-arrogant way. I’m on a rant lately where I go on and on about how little respect I have for Bono. And in totally unrelated sharing, Dub pointed me to Hayseed Dixie which confirms in my mind that I know how I want to live: positively positive.

And here’s the best blog post I’ve read in a while.

Finally, a great Etsy find. I’ve been looking high and low for a dog bed that has some sort of pouch that Berlin can shove her little face under since she’s such a hider. Check out these beauts.

That should keep you busy for a while. And I’m sure my anti-U2 sentiment will turn up the heat in the comments. This is what I’m here for.

Everybody knows that tomorrow is Valentine’s Day – the day of wine and roses… and the day that my best friend comes to visit me from Ohio! So Matt gave me my Valentine’s Day gift early – Behind The Sun downloaded to my iPod. Hear me when I say that when you combine 1980s Eric Clapton guitar solos with 1980s Phil Collins synth, mix thoroughly, and bake in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes, you get a (three to) five star album that inspires you to dance around the house in leg warmers… JUST LEG WARMERS!

Perhaps you are looking for a last-minute gift for the sensual woman in your life? If so, check out the outrageous electric tom fills sprinkled throughout this classic album. You can preview it in the sidebar widget (over there on the righthand side of the page) and download it from Amazon or iTunes. I’ll be honest… you’ll probably score.

I’ve been listening to it so much that last night I had a very vivid dream where we had both EC and PC over for dinner. You’d think it would be an energetic and bustling crowd, but there was something strange going on. My only explanation is that the obvious tension around the dinner table was because Matt, Phil and Eric were all yearning to be my Forever Man.

I’m not gonna lie. It’s like thunder, lightning… The way you love me is frightening! Think I’d better knock on wood, baby.

I always enjoy it when Josh puts out his yearly mixtape. Does it show how behind the times I am that I only know a handful of these songs? Guess I need to head into the 21st century…