3 AM rambling.

Okay. I was thinking of so many things last night while laying in bed that I really wanted to sit up and blog about. Because I knew I'd probably forget about most of them by the time today rolled around. But the thing is, it wasn't even last night, it was 3 AM this morning that I was thinking of all these things, and I knew if I sat up and grabbed my laptop to write a blogpost, I'd never get back to sleep. So I didn't do it. I just let the thoughts all run rampant like wild little baby horses in my mind instead of trying to domesticate them into anything organized. I just thought you'd be curious as to how this here blog post was conceived in this brain of mine. That's why I just told you all that just now.

So stop trying to get past this first part and into the point of this post, okay? That first paragraph very well might be the most profound thing I write today. I mean the whole analogy of my thoughts being like wild little baby horses? Come on, it's beautiful! How can I top that?

So here's my effort in taming some of those little horses.

Ahem.

I miss music. I miss music a lot. I don't know if you can relate, but I think I sortof forgot about music. Like I don't even realize how infrequently it occurs to me to turn my music on. The only music I listen to now are Disney classics. And I can't figure out a time to play the piano because there are two midgets yipping at my heels every moment they are awake, and when they're not, the piano is too loud to play during nap time. This all hit me in the middle of the night when I reached over to my Iphone, found Enya, and then realized not only had I not listened to her, but I hadn't even remembered anything about her for like 5 years. I used to feel such passion for music and the piano and singing. I used to know all the latest hits from like every genre of music. Now I'm just a lame mom and take note when there's a new show on Nick Jr.

Is this shift inevitable? Does it have to be this way? I don't think so, because my sister Vanessa is always telling me about the newest cutting edge music. And then I resent her for it because she's a mom of 2 also. In fact, the last time I asked her, "Have you heard Kelly Clarkson's new album?? It's fantastic!" I had just returned from my mission and the year was 2006. That particular album was released in '04. About a month after I had left the country. She still reminds me of that conversation. Oh I'm so sorry Vanessa, I guess I was distracted trying to save souls in a sweaty third world country while you were busy listening to Kelly Clarkson's newest album in your air conditioning. Now whenever I'm tempted to ask her if she's heard so-and-so's new song, I have an anxiety attack because I feel mocking coming on. Oh shut up, shut up Vanessa! You remember I'm your older sister and you show me some respect!!

So why can't I keep up with it all if she can? Plus her mermaid hair, what's with that? I'm lame.

Another thing about it is that some music just doesn't effect me the same way as it used to. Especially the music that I used to turn to for catharsis when a relationship would end. I am very happily married, so how can I relate to the emotions in Incubus I wish you were here when my husband and I live under the same roof? So we're never really apart to begin with. Or Dashboard Confessional Standard lines: 'cus your taste still lingers on my lips like you just pressed them upon mine and I starve... I starve for you... I'm not starving for anything except nutella these days.

PS I just looked up the definition of the word incubus and found the following: An incubus (from the Latin, incubus, or "nightmare"; plural incubi) is a demon in male form who, according to a number of mythological and legendary traditions, lies upon sleepers, especially women, in order to have sex with them.

That's the scariest thing I've ever heard. I'm so creeped/grossed out right now.

Anyway, then these thoughts lead me to conversations about this with my husband. Which leads to me feeling misunderstood. Me: Do you ever miss listening to break up music? And really feeling the music, like, when it used to hurt so bad you couldn't eat or sleep?

Him: (brief pause)...No.... to tell you the truth... I really don't. Me: Well I don't either so that's good. Just makin' sure.

End of conversation.

(Maybe you don't know me personally and you're figuring I was the drama queen type in my single days. Just so you know, I wasn't. Really.)

I don't miss the heartache, like I would never ever want to go back to the emotional rollercoaster of dating. EVER. So I don't know what it is if it's not missing it. But, I'll tell ya, the last time I wrote a song it was the one I sang to Jason at our wedding luncheon. And that was a very happy, very where would I be without you? type of song. I guess I just understand more why celebrity musicians' marriages never last... They have to have really unhealthy and dysfunctional relationships in order to find the inspiration to write songs that are poignant. Because music listeners can't only listen to the where would I be without you type of music. Melancholia = the creation of beautiful artistic expression.

That other kind of music, the non-breakup, mushy music is another blog post another day. I do quite relate to the "I wanna grow old with you" music. Because I do want to grow old with him. I guess I just need to make it a point to listen to it more often and tell Lucy that the Disney classics are gettin' the boot for a while. I'm committing to getting back on the music listening wagon here.

I don't feel like these thoughts are any more organized than when they were swimming around in my head at 3 AM like little white baby jellyfish in the deep blue sea. Somethin' about them little baby animals...

Onto an ACS. (Abrupt change of subject). Scarlett is 10 months old today. Which means she is 2 months away from her first birthday, meaning that there are evil people in the world who will then deem her a toddler and no longer a baby (the evil people at babycenter.com who send me weekly emails). I have to soak her in every single day. She is so sweet and so affectionate. And she'll never be 10 months again the rest of her life. Sigh.

She's still a baby. And will be until I have another newbie in my arms. So just back off babycenter.

And the following shots are the sequence of events that take place if I ever try to get pictures of the two of them together in any kind of posed arrangement. Grrr.

Turns into WWE within seconds.

So candids are all I've got. Love them.