Baby Now that I Found You

Today is the one year anniversary of the day I met my man. It's funny to look back on the post I wrote about that night now -- I ended it with: "Those arms will find me when the time is right" which was what I said to reassure myself because I'd gone to bed alone the night of the wedding at which we met. Little did I know (at least consciously) that his arms really would be the ones to find me, or, because he was dressed in clothes that didn't show off his righteous bod, that they'd be so hot.

Lucky me.

So many songs could mark this day, and even though most of this Foundations hit doesn't fit, as I type this, it's this Allison Krauss cover blaring on the inner jukebox:

Baby, now that I've found you

I can't let you go

I'll build my world around you

I need you so...

True love will find you

The Beck cover of this tune was the ipod's selection at an opportune moment this evening -- a moment in which I was savoring the trueness of the love I'm experiencing now:

True love will find you in the end

You'll find out just who was your friend

Don’t be sad, I know you will,

But don’t give up until

True love finds you in the end.

I was unfamiliar with this song, which was apparently written and originally performed by Daniel Johnston, of whom I'd never heard. Brilliant lyricist, he is. Particularly in this second (and last) verse, he captures my experience of being willing to be vulnerable, to do it differently this time around:

This is a promise with a catch

Only if you're looking will it find you

‘Cause true love is searching too

But how can it recognize you

Unless you step out into the light?

But don’t give up until

True love finds you in the end.

I'm so glad I didn't give up before it found me. Or give up when it found me, for that matter....

Oh, and here's one more cover, if you still haven't had enough -- this one's Wilco.

California Gurls

My kids made reference to the song California Girls today, and while I thought it was a bit strange that they knew the old Beach Boys classic, I also thought it was pretty cool.

Until they started singing it, and I realized it was very definitely NOT the Beach Boys classic:

California girls

We're unforgettable

Daisy Dukes

Bikinis on top

Sun-kissed skin

So hot

We'll melt your Popsicle

Oooooh oh oooooh

I wish they all could be California Girls...

Your Next Bold Move

The ipod dialed this one up, and it fit perfectly with exactly what I've been wondering about: What's my next bold move? Career-wise, I mean:

So go ahead

Make your next bold move

Tell us

What's the next thing you're gonna need to prove

To yourself

It's not so much what I need to prove to myself, but where I can best put my talents and passion to work for this world. It's all really up in the air right now, which is sometimes exciting and other times a little bit frightening. I know it's all going to come out ok, it's just tough for us humans to deal with the uncertainty sometimes, I reckon...

Knock on Wood

I had the pleasure of being with my man tonight during a huge summer storm, which gave new meaning to an old fave:

It's like thunder and lightning

The way you love me is frightening

In a good way, of course!

Landslide

Right in the middle of a rather tumultuous few days with my kids, my man and I laid next to each other wondering if we knew what we had bargained for by taking our long distance relationship and transplanting him into my Madison with-kids life.

As luck would have it, Pandora was on in the background, and it was no small comfort to hear Fleetwood Mac take on some of the same big questions and come away feeling like it's ok to sometimes feel like you're in the middle of a landslide. It doesn't necessarily mean you've taken a wrong turn or done something wrong, it just happens sometimes.

Maybe particularly when you're willing to risk a big undertaking. You know, like leaving your husband, sleeping around for a while, and then eventually falling in love again and meeting someone worthy of your kids. Or moving across the country to be with a woman with two kids when you've spent the first 45 years of your life kidless in New England:

I took my love, I took it down

Climbed a mountain and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills

Till the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Mmm, mmm, mmm

Well, I've been afraid of changing

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older and I'm getting older too

Oh, I'm getting older too

Awh, take my love, take it down

Awh, climb a mountain and turn around

And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills

Well, the landslide bring it down...

The Dam at Otter Creek

The temptation, now that he's no longer able to access my blog, to write about my ex-husband in a less charitable way, I'll admit, is there. Especially after a recent episode with the kids, which involved, get ready for this -- them being bitten and scratched by otters while on my watch. It was a traumatic experience for all those present, and I'm sure it was pretty scary for my babydaddy to hear about it secondhand, but the fact that it turned into yet another way for him to point out what he sees as my less-than-optimal mothering is a pretty big drag for yours truly.

I know it must be hard for him with my new boyfriend here, spending time with his kids -- god knows it was an adjustment for me when I first dropped my kids off with his new woman -- but of course, he can't admit that, or let himself feel the sadness of which Live sings:

When all that's left to do

Is reflect on what's been done

This is where sadness breathes

The sadness of everyone

So he evades the sadness by finding things to be mad at me about. It's a drag, but there isn't much I can do about it, and I don't want to live my life able to be derailed by his negative energy, that's for damn sure...