Signs

I know that spring is approaching.  The birds were chirping wildly early this morning rustling the ferns of my cypress trees as I walked Sonny out in the backyard.  The fledglings sometimes tease him by coming within reach and then flying higher while he jumps up, making futile attempts to catch them.  I believe there must be nests up there high in the branches.  I have noticed perfect shells on the grass on occasion.  I love those birds; they remind me of my grandma, Fanny, who loved them as well.  It was the Red-Breasted Robin she loved the most, which is often considered the first sign of spring.  I have seen them here, catching my breath as I spot their vermillion trunk and when I do, I feel as if Fanny is visiting, reminding me she will always watch over me. 

This past week was one of minor mishaps and hiccups.  It began on Monday, when I walked into, actually crashed into, one of my kitchen cabinets.  The right side of my forehead is still quite sore from the incident.  This happens quite often- I go to do something absentmindedly and all of a sudden I am blindsided by the cabinet door I forgot to close.  Not only do I feel stupid, I am in a great deal of pain and I worry if this is a concussion that will ultimately lead to brain damage.

Then, on Tuesday, I was putting away my wine glasses in the cabinet and knocked down a martini glass, which I don’t even understand why I own because I seldom, if ever, have martinis.  It took me half an hour to get all the shattered glass cleaned up from the floor.  My superstitious mother, who attributes deeper meanings to everything, always says broken glass is a sign that something good is going to happen.  So, I waited all week for really good news, which didn’t come.  But I guess I could consider it’s good that I survived the impact of my head colliding with the kitchen cabinet with no apparent brain injury.   

My brain, though, is definitely not as sharp as it used to be.  I realized that I wasn’t getting any phone responses for the baby shower, so I went to double check the invitation to discover that the area code for my cell-phone was wrong.  Oops.  Add that to the fact that we omitted an RSVP date.  Oops again. And I did all this before I banged my head.

Lindsay is now 25 weeks and 1 day.  My granddaughter, “Tallulah”, is about 2 lbs. and the size of an eggplant.  She was the size of an eggplant last week, too, so I guess she’s just a bigger eggplant or they’re running out of produce to make comparisons with.  Lindsay also had a rough week.  Besides for her backache, she had a bad case of indigestion for the first time in her life. (Welcome to my world, dear daughter.)  Furthermore, she is looking for a job, having just completed her masters for Special Education.  Even though she is still working as an actress here and there, doing stand-in and background work on movies and television shows and occasionally substitute teaching, she needs a secure, steady way to earn a living to help support her soon-to-be family of three.  Two income families are a necessity now.  It is not easy and harder still when you’re 6 months pregnant to find a job these days though.   

My younger daughter, Kim, is also waiting to hear about a new job- the dream job that she has had three interviews for.  Although they’ve checked all her references, which are stellar, it’s been almost a month now and she hasn’t heard any news.  That’s why I was almost happy when I broke the martini glass on Tuesday.  I thought, certainly, that the good news would be that Kim found out that she got her dream job.  But no such news came.  Maybe there’s a delay on the “signs” of breaking glass or possibly I might have to accidently, on purpose, break some more of the nine still-remaining martini glasses I own and don’t need. 

Amidst all this slight aggravation and even though poor mommy-to-be has had backaches and stomachaches and stress about employment, my granddaughter gets bigger and stronger every day.  I finally got to feel her delicious kicks a few times already.  As a matter of fact, Lindsay told me that when she was sleeping against Scott’s back the other night he could feel little jabs in his rear.  That would mean that literally, Tallulah is kicking her daddy’s butt. 

Lindsay is growing bigger every day too, especially in the boob area.  She informed me yesterday that she has to go to Victoria’s Secret to get measured for a bra she wants to order online.  I told her she didn’t have to go to Victoria’s Secret, that I would help her with measuring her boobs.  I watched a video online about correctly measuring for your bra size and I’m practically an expert now.  So Lindsay came over and I measured twice and got two different measurements.  One measurement told us she went down a cup size­– highly unlikely, the other measurement told us she stayed the same size– highly unlikely, also.  I was trying to redeem myself for the invitation blooper.  I had to admit, though, that maybe I’m really not an expert on bra measurements. 

I also have to add that I'm not the only one whose mind is not so sharp.  Lindsay called me this morning in a tizzy, asking me, excitedly, Mom, do you know what we're doing about Passover?!  (She's all excited about Passover this year because she is craving chicken soup with homemade matzoh balls.)  

Lindsay, I replied, I don't even know when Passover is.  

Well, she responded, in a panic, it's tomorrow.  

Tomorrow? I said, where did you hear that? 

I looked it up on the Internet.  It says it starts Monday, March 25th and ends Tuesday, April 2nd!

I thought for a moment, exhaled a big sigh of relief, then I asked, And what day is tomorrow, Linds..?"

She paused.  Oh.  It's February 25th....Never mind. 

And so another week begins; it is still February, regardless of my daughter's pregnant brain's confusion.  I promised myself that I would be more diligent in closing the kitchen cabinet doors, from now on.  I also promised myself to keep faith in the sign the broken martini glass foretold that good news is coming.  After all, frigid February is almost over and spring is just around the corner.