502

One knows the school year has begun when I have a series of grievances, and this year, my last, seems to have piled on a few more than this hormonal pregnant-lady wants to handle.

Instead of dwelling on these little frustrations, I am going to close my eyes and think of absolutely good, good things:

:: Last night was my first session of prenatal yoga. Until now, I'd done very, very sweet and s-l-o-w yoga practice, and while this wasn't hot yoga, of the speed-up-and-fall-over sort, it did move, and I did sweat and at one point, saw little blotches dance in front of my eyes, so I slunk off to the bathroom, cold-washclothed myself, and returned to the dance. In savasana, my own minnow began her own practice, and I imagined, in our peace, our muscles singing, that most of the room felt their own minnows flickering in the dim light. Imagine, a dozen and a half pregnant women, all with tumbling babies, some overdue, some not due for months, all half-moons against the floor.

:: After yoga, homemade soup. Emily's house, sweet pups, help untangling a knotted skein of yarn, and soup. Because soup is one of the best things about autumn and winter and that rainy chill that has begun to settle over our region.

:: After soup, knitting. You see this beautiful progression? I began a second kicking bag. I ordered this beautiful yarn from etsy, in the colorway "oy the koi," which already has whimsy attached to it. I'm loving how subtle the colors are turning out as they knit up. I'm an earth-tones kind of girl, so to venture into such a bright blue, which shows on the etsy listing but not in my photograph above, is a happy risk.


:: I do love autumn. Penelope loves it so much she wants to eat it, apparently. I love the way the trees change, I love to bring out heavy wool sweaters, I love making soup, I love filling the house with the smell of baked bread, I love the sound of crisping leaves in the wind, I love the start of the school year (despite recent misgivings, I love the essence of school).

:: And the pups are sweet-as-ever. Thursdays are our special day together; I am done earlier than most days, and right now, the afternoons belong to us. Once the strong weather begins, perhaps our marches, and my belly, will be kept closer to home.

:: The minnow is doing beautifully. Feeling her move is my favorite part of each day.

:: And my husband. My husband, my husband, makes me feel so lucky all of the time. He's so kind and considerate and never perfect, but always good. He watches out for me so well, making sure we're well-stocked with apples and milk, making sure to listen when I need to vent, reading the Bradley birth books I've been stacking in his lap, holding me close, tolerating my increasing snores, celebrating the good things, the better things. Taking care, letting me take care in return. A good partner can make just about anything tolerable, I think. And to always be filled with this love, this thing that grows every day, after eleven years. No one really talks about that as much--the way a love can grow older, the way it can work.