{thursday turntable} life goes on

Seventeen years ago I’d already been at Southampton Hospital for a while . . . 20+ inches of snow on the ground and 26 year-old me on the verge of becoming a mom  — that is if you call  24 more hours being on the verge .

 

I’d left uneaten shrimp scampi  and unwatched Redford and Streisand in The Way We Were behind at home.  I passed the time listening  to U2 and The Rolling Stones and watching unnervingly limber  gymnasts compete on television. . . not something I would recommend as quality programming for a woman in labor.  I kept looking at Skye’s  kind, exhausted, helpless-looking dad, thinking — It’s harder to watch someone in labor than to be in labor.  Yes, I really meant it. And yes, I was medicated.

Then Schuyler arrived, and  there was the before of shrimp and Streisand and Stones, and then everything after.

 

Even though I had no idea what was about to unfold,  I knew it was going to be good. Through chaotic {okay, make that CRAZY} colic-filled days , dozens of  I push/ Skye reads in the stroller runs, leaning into love during the aftermath of divorce and shifting jobs and homes –one with a resident poltergeist  — to welcoming Josh and then Justus into our family of two, adventures in politics, travel and the sublime messiness of everything in between.

 

There’s something about seeing the world through Schuyler’s eyes that makes it easier for me to stay afloat in choppy waters. Life goes on. And in the case of  my life with Skye, it goes on with me still pinching myself . . . how did I get so lucky?