Speaking of music time, I finally got off my ass and got us to a little neighborhood music circle today I'd been meaning to check out for ages. It was good - I will go back. Being hippy LA I kind of cracked up at the crunchy granola vibe - in particular when we sang this song "The Earth is Our Mother" that Kathy Griffin roundly makes fun of in one of her specials. And when I say "we sang", I mean everyone else sang with their babies on their laps while I tried to prevent Bumpus from climbing on to the stage, falling off, and cracking his skull open. And so it goes.
Bumpus didn't seem to care for it. He was very freaked out and clingy at first, then spent pretty much the entire session at the other end of the room playing with some little girl's ball until I finally felt the need to give it back to her because she looked upset (with resultant screaming on B's part bien sure). But I'll continue going because I think he'll get into it. He does love music, dancing, and banging on drums. What little kid doesn't?
The last of the drywall went up for B's room today. We are officially boxed in. It doesn't look like it'll get done this week, though. Tomorrow is the messiest day as it requires sanding. I have stressed to the handyman how I can't have the whole house covered in plaster dust - that he MUST make an effort to cover everything. They never do, though. I don't know if it's a guy thing or a contractor thing or what, but they always make a horrible mess. I can picture shaking white powder out of baby blankets for months. Ugh. I am SO glad I made that attic room when I did - I would never attempt something like that now. I was up there today just thinking how great it is and how glad I am I went for it even when I thought there'd be no more babies. Now "the kids" have the option of sharing a room or not.
I spend a huge amount of my time wondering what B will be like when he's older. In my experience boys rarely resemble their baby selves - it's usually "something around the eyes", but that's about it. If B grows up to look anything like the donor he'll be tall and angular with a strong jaw (so the clinic told me); it's impossible to reconcile that image with the plump-cheeked baby face I have before me on a daily basis. I recently watched a documentary where a man was spending time with his college-aged son before the father went to jail for running a Ponzi scheme; the son was red headed and angular and I wondered if that's what B would be like. The son spoke lovingly about his dad in interviews. I can't imagine B speaking at all, much less with a man's voice, and even less talking about ME. What will he think of me, when he's that age? What will he remember about his childhood? Will he remember today's music class and how I made him give the ball back and chuckled ironically all through "The Earth is Our Mother"?