Letting the sun shine through: finding my theme music

I assumed it would be so easy for me to choose a song that spoke to me as my theme music. I'm that person who has a song that relates to any situation and bursts into song at a moment's notice. But the idea of picking just one song, and in particular a song that I felt spoke about me, was a real challenge. I lamented to Rich that I didn't have a theme song. He voted for Fishbone's Everyday Sunshine, as he says that song makes him thinks of me. In my mind, though, that was more of me from his perspective.

So I started perusing my iTunes library looking for inspiration. I can name all kinds of songs that I think are theme songs for other people, but this is supposed to be about me. And that was really giving me a hard time.

We went out for a million errands this morning and didn't make it back to the house until after 1pm. As we came around the corner, I noticed a neighbor having an Open House and called my mother to see if she wanted to go (what? you don't go to all the Open Houses in your neighborhood just to see what they've done?). As I talked to her on the phone she sounded distressed and told me one of their tenants is moving out in two weeks and there is a bit of drama surrounding it all. The housing market in general is complete crap these days and my parents are concerned it will be hard to find a decent replacement tenant.

She rallied to come down and tour the neighbor's house but ended up sitting in my house for several hours afterward lamenting about their current state of affairs. The whole thing is a bit of a downer. By the time she left, I noticed it was 4:15pm and I still had not chosen, let alone written about, my personal theme music. And honestly, I was having a hard time finding inspiration.

I have always been an optimistic person, sometimes to a fault. When my brother was 11, he was in a bit of a mood and my mother cautioned him to cheer up so he wouldn't ruin everyone else's Christmas. As she said this, I motored past at the tender age of four and declared, "he's not gonna ruin my Christmas." Ever since, our family's subculture has included the colloquialism of not letting someone ruin your Christmas.

I'm also an overly sensitive person, letting other people's problems become my own more than I necessarily need to. This aspect of my personality makes me great at my job and a pretty solid friend to have, but can take its toll on me. I've spent probably the last five years or so actively trying to find some sort of balance between sensitivity and selfishness for my own sanity.

And as I have learned in great detail while working with my medical team for this pregnancy, I'm not really the type of person that most people are used to dealing with. I'm not sure if I come across as too ... something ... for them to be able to handle. Sometimes that's refreshing for folks but I also can imagine that it can take a bit to get used to. I have to remind myself that the rest of the world is a lot more shy and reserved than I am.

As I pondered all of this, I hunted around trying to find a song that fit me fairly well and stumbled upon Ethel Merman's I Got the Sun in the Morning. I have always loved Ethel Merman in that she doesn't sing anything halfway. Browsing through YouTube, though, someone commented that she sang with all the finesse of a truck driver. Ah, to each their own. But no matter how you feel about her singing, you can't help but smile when you hear her sing and possibly even tap your foot along.

Since I limited myself to just one song, this one seemed most fitting. You may not know how to deal with me all the time, but you can't help but smile while I'm doing my thing.

Labor of love

Rich and I got home this evening, but both of us forgot to turn off the alarm. About 30 seconds later, I was standing six inches in front of the alarm looking for something in my purse when the siren went off. I screamed, typed in the four digit code to disable it and promptly burst into tears. Rich wrapped himself around me, stroking my hair and saying "shh, kitten, it's okay now" for several minutes before I calmed down.

After all that excitement, the baby was jumping all over the place as my body processed this dump of adrenalin. I curled up in my recliner (which has fast become my favorite piece of furniture ever made - I understand those who wish to be buried in theirs), put on my headphones and nestled down with my iPod to try to mellow out.

And thus my labor mix got its first trial run. I call it a success since it led to a two hour nap in the chair this evening.

Jeremy's mother said she listened to The Band's Music from Big Pink all during her pregnancy with him. Every time I hear The Weight, I think of her in a rocking chair at the farm house with him in her belly.

For your listening pleasure, I offer a sampling of my labor mix. Hopefully it will mellow you out as much as it does me. Because I picked most of these songs for very specific reasons, I'm including a little blurb about them below. But you can also just listen to them all for yourself on the OpenTape Mix - Labor of Love.

Here We Go Again - I listen to a lot of Soul Town on Sirius these days and so many of the songs please me. I imagine that each time a contraction starts up again, I'll hear Ray Charles in my head.

Can't Go Back Now - If you listen to no other song in this mix, please listen to this one. The Weepies are one of my favorite bands. Rich says the lyrics are depressing, but I like how they manage to make crappy things sound pleasant. "I can't really say why everybody wishes they were somewhere else, but in the end the only steps that matter are the ones you take all by yourself."

We'll Be Fine - "Don't worry about us, we'll be fine."

More Time - "Please don't worry now, it will turn around. I need more time. Just a few more months and I'll be fine."

The One Thing I Know - I had a hard time picking which Christine Kane song I wanted. But the refrain is really comforting to me.

Beautiful World - "I like to go out beyond the white breakers, where a man can still be free (or a woman if you are one)."

Into the Mystic - This was my de facto "shitty day" song to make me feel better for several months. And who wouldn't want their gypsy soul rocked?

Down in the Valley to Pray - Doc Watson's voice is wonderful. And this old gospel just could play on repeat in my head for hours and I'd be fine with that. "Come on mothers let's go down in the valley to pray."

The Lucky One - This song used to seem a little bitter to me once, but now I just see it as a light-hearted anthem. "Everything's gonna be alright 'cause you're the lucky one."

Danny's Song - "He will be like him and me, free as a dove. Conceived in love. The sun is gonna shine above."

Let It Be - This is Rich's favorite Beatles song. And this is my favorite cover of it. It's hard not to rally once you get to the second half of it.

April Come She Will - I have no cosmic reason for this song other than it pleases me.

Just Like Heaven - This is about the point I started falling asleep in the chair. When she says "you're just like a dream" I can't help but smile.

Homeless - "Somebody say huh ee huh ee huh ee." That just pleases me.

If you Want to Sing Out, Sing Out - I love Cat Stevens and this is just such a happy song. I can imagine I might want to sing out at some point in this process for some reason or another.

Also, don't forget Sunday October 4 is the deadline for this month's Living Out Loud project where you tell us all about your theme music. I look forward to hearing all about it.

In a few weeks, we may try using ADT to kick start this labor, but for now I'm happy to wait.

Sticks and stones

It's no secret that sitting in the waiting room of my OB's office has caused me some anxiety in the past. Recently, though, I thought we had really turned a corner in all of this and I could sit in peace while I waited to have a good visit with my doctor. I sat down and opened some well-worn magazine in the waiting room, hoping to pass the time. And then I heard this woman. She was the grandmother, as best as I can tell, tending to her grandson while her daughter was in the office for some checkup. I heard her before I saw her. The boy was crying the cry of an over-tired toddler who was probably late for his nap. Given the time of day, that in of itself was not unusual. But the woman was yelling at him to "shut up" as he cried.

"Shut up!" "You hear me, boy? Hush that noise!" "Go to sleep if you so tired. Just quit your cryin'." "Your momma gonna beat your ass when she come out." "I am so. sick. of. you."

The boy would stifle his cries and burrow into her arm but then start to cry again after a bit and the yelling would start up again.

Occasionally, I heard a light slapping sound as she smacked his leg to emphasize the "shut up" portion of her diatribe. Ironically, it seemed to work after about 10 minutes or so and he eventually fell asleep (or at least stopped crying) and clutched his bottle of water.

As I sat there with my back to them, I could feel my face getting hot. I waffled between wanting to rush over and pick that poor boy up to snuggle him to sleep and rolling up my well-worn magazine so I could smack the woman in the head with it why yelling that "I'd give her something to cry about."

In the end, I did neither. I could barely muster turning around to glare at her, fearing that glaring would lead to my leaving my seat and doing something that would end in a ride to the police station. And as I've said before I can't have this baby behind bars. So I just sat there, sick with anger and sadness.

I have never felt an urge so strong before to rush to the defense of someone. It was like a chemical surge with every hateful thing she said. Yet once the boy settled down, the pregnant woman next to them casually chatted with the grandmother as if nothing were wrong.

Nothing I wanted to do seemed right (or even remotely legal), so in the end, I did nothing. But those words "I am so. sick. of. you." still put knots in my stomach.