The two before three.
My husband has great taste in music and it's always a treat to hear him pick out some records. He can arrange them to play in such a way that they create a moment or transport to another era, sometimes catapulting you to new and uncharted settings. He does it with such ease. What some people can do visually with collages, he does with our records.
The other night, on what we thought was surely the eve of our baby's birth, I made homemade corn tortillas and he whipped up some pico de gallo. Hungry, we seemed to take our time making the meal a bit special. The music played on in the background. Dinner did turn out delicious.
Later, we cleaned the house. What I will remember, decades from now, is preparing dinner side by side, taking breaks to time contractions, returning to the kitchen to cook, then sweeping, mopping and scrubbing to several different records: Blossom Dearie, Buddy Morrow, Ken Nordine, old mariachi music, just to name a few. It was a special evening for me. It did not end with a trip to the midwife but with us as a twosome. These evenings of just us are numbered and I have been savoring them rather than rushing past them in frenzied anticipation.
Tonight, once again I celebrated us by making more homemade corn tortillas and picadillo. We watched some beach movies and the baby move. I keep remembering what Roxy said...we met her at a restaurant in Baltimore when I was thirteen weeks along. Roxy said, "Change is coming, three chairs, three plates, three of everything come next year." It was so abstract just a few months ago.