Once upon a time Sean started calling me A. Mo ala J.Lo, but without the bangin’ flygirl ass or the slammin’ diva bank account. It didn’t matter to me, I’d never really had a nick name and I loved it. So, today as I post a day late about my participation in NaBloPoMo, I am using A. Mo for its alliterative qualities with Do-Mo and NaBloPoMo, work with me, I’m pregnant and operating on a negative sleeep bank thanks to molars, nightmares and growth spurts.
NaBloPoMo stands for National Blog Posting Month, which boils down to a whole lot of fantastic bloggers pledging to achieve a post a day for the month of November…wishing I had the creative chops to take the Donny and Marie Little Bit Country ditty and spin it, alas I am struggling to so much as use complete sentences and proper names.
Sean, by the way, is right at this moment reading this and snickering, remembering the night I walked into the living room and asked with righteous indignation:
Did you just obsume my water?
He and my sister looked at me, eyes dancing, mouths quivering as they struggled to find the right words to appropriately mock my exclaim that I can only look back on as having been a combination of: abscond, consume and assume I was done.
It was right up there with the time when I was pregnant with Briar and I took Sean a root beer and as I handed it to him said, “Here’s the roast beef you wanted.” Luckily I tend to proof before I publish, so hopefully I won’t make those pregnant missteps in the next month of posting, but we’ll see. I’ll send you some roast beef if you catch a crazy mistake, beware though, it just might come in the form of a can of Mug Root Beer.
Aside from making light of both my pregnancy induced ditziness and my reckless decision to commit to posting every day for a month, I wanted to share something that once again reminded me that being a parent is as close as you can come to living in the presence of real magic.
Briar: Hey mama, mama? Can you see it?
Me: What’s that sweetie? What do you see?
B: Da shadow. Do you see it?
Me: (looking up form my laptop distractedly) Where baby?
B: Right dere, mama. It’s an umbrella shadow.
Avery: Brella! Mmmmm-brella!
Me: Briar! That is an umbrella, oh my goodness!
B: I’ll share it with you. Wanna hold my umbrella?
Me: How ’bout I hold it over all three of us?
The girls beamed at me and the three of us sat ’round that umbrella made of sunlight as I held it over our heads.