Loving him was yellow {Spin Cycle}

Let me get this out of the way. I have a confession to make–I love Taylor Swift’s song “Red.” Should a 44 year old woman really be a fan of Taylor Swift? I suppose that’s what happens when my two daughters dance around the living room singing her songs. So when I was listening to “Red” and singing along, I began to wonder. (Why, yes, the girls were at school and I was home alone playing their Taylor Swift CDs. I’ll admit it!) I wondered. Is love really red?

Red is a logical choice for love. It’s the color of a heart, the color of a rose, and even seems to be the official color of Valentine’s Day. A woman will wear red lipstick and a red dress to attract a man. But is red really the color of love?

loving him is red

I’m not sure why, but I’ve always thought of the color yellow when I think about my love for Ed. A bright yellow, like the yellow of the sun. Perhaps it’s because of the effect he had on me. My life was pretty dull until Ed came along. When we first started dating, he would tell me how lonely he was before we met. Now that we’ve settled into married life with two noisy kids, he’ll deny that he ever said he was lonely! But I must have brought some brightness into Ed’s life, too. Yes, yellow seems like a good color for love.

Yet yellow is not perfect. When I was pregnant with Lily, we chose not to find out if we were having a boy or a girl before the baby was born. As a result, we received a lot of yellow baby clothes. But for a baby, yellow seemed so…neutral. Lily didn’t have any hair, so it was hard to tell if she was a boy or a girl. Of course, I always thought she looked like a girl, but when Lily was very little some people complimented my baby boy. I wouldn’t say I especially liked pink until I was sick of seeing Lily in yellow. Lily grew older, I had another baby girl, and then I was inundated with pink; pink clothes, pink baby towels, pink everything. Both Lily and Emmy decided that pink was their favorite color. All of a sudden, I loved pink too. Pink made my girls look so pretty, and I was so proud to be the mom of two beautiful little girls. I still am. Pink is a good color for love.

The color of love is always changing, I suppose. What color will I think love is as I get older? A nice comforting gray? An old and sturdy brown? Time will tell.

Emmy in pink

What do you think is the color of love? Write your Spin and link up your blog post either here or at Second Blooming!

Don’t forget to visit Second Blooming to grab your Spin Cycle button!

Second Blooming


Nothing Like the Sun

Copernicus had it all wrong. Obviously, I am the center of the universe.

embroidered sun

What else would explain my eight year old daughter climbing into the middle of our huge, king sized bed, and squishing her body so completely next to mine that I am in danger of plummeting off the edge?

Lily and Emmy are drawn to me. No matter where I go, they are soon behind. There must be invisible threads pulling them toward me. They can be totally absorbed in something, but as soon as I go into the bathroom for a moment of privacy they become disoriented. MOMMMM! Where are you?

They always find me.

Making sure everyone is happy, I get in the shower. As soon as I have a nice, bubbly lather in my hair, I hear screaming. MOMMMMM! Lily isn’t being nice to me!

I’m banishing them to the far corners of the globe when I ask them to play in their bedrooms, begging them to give me some space. But Mom, why do we have to play UP THERE? They don’t even realize that once they get older, their bedrooms will become their havens. They will need to go slam the door and escape from Mom for hours. Mom, who will be old and needy and who just doesn’t understand.

Those days haven’t come yet, however. When I’m in the kitchen making dinner, they soon appear, getting underfoot as I stir the stew. When I’m in the basement doing laundry, they are at the top of the stairs, demanding my attention. When I dash outside to put a trash bag in the garbage can, their little noses press against the screen door, wondering why I ventured outside WITHOUT THEM.

Around the same time every day, however, their orbit is suddenly shifted. The garage door goes up. The side door opens, and suddenly, the strings attached to me snap.

“DADDY!” they cry, running to jump on him.

Then as soon as he disappears for a couple of minutes, they are abruptly back in my orbit.

Their little arms automatically go around my neck. Their legs curl around my waist. Their sweet chubby cheeks fit next to mine. Their love warms me like rays from the sun.

Perhaps I am not the center of the universe after all.


My two little suns
My two little suns

I’m linking this post up to the Yeah Write challenge, where we are reminded to read books, read more books, and to take a long break from reading blogs by people who don’t read books.

This post was inspired by the book I’m currently reading: A Discovery of Witches, by Deborah Harkness. The main character is a scholar of the history of science. Click the button above to read more blog posts by people who do read books, starting on Tuesday. Then go back on Thursday to vote for your favorite five.