Word-ful Wednesday

10 Dec

Okay, Okay.

I know it’s not Wednesday.
It’s Friday. I’m not being tricky. It’s just that I wrote this post on Wednesday, and could not get the photo to work until just now. And it’s also just that I couldn’t think of another, more appropriate, more creative, more fitting title. That’s what a long week, a baby with an ear infection, and 2 extra dogs to watch will do to a person.

Anyway,

Remember this?

That photo was taken exactly 1 year ago, today.

(oh, and by today, I mean Wednesday. Just bear with me, here.)

That was the night that I sang the National Anthem for Bill Clinton.

But, you already know that. .

What you don’t know is that in the hours leading up to my performance, I was nervous.

Not only was I nervous about my singing,

but I was also nervous because the baby hadn’t kicked in a few hours.

Now, this was normal at 21 weeks of pregnancy,

but I still didn’t like it.

You know. It’s just who I am.

Fortunately, I was not able to wallow in my anxiety, for I had a show to put on.

I sang the Anthem,

and as soon as I finished, Clinton came onto the stage.

I sat down to listen to him,

to this famously charismatic, impressive orator,

and I placed my hand on my little bump, relaxing into my chair.

As soon as the former President began to speak,

the baby began to kick.

He spoke,

she kicked.

She kicked,

he spoke.

It was amazing.

I sat there, rubbing my belly, listening to the incredible words behind that thick drawl,

and feeling so very content.

And amazed.

I was seated right next to the stage, and as soon as his speech was over, I pushed my way through the crowd in order to get close to this man; our former president.

I am not, naturally, a very pushy individual; But on that night, I stuck my bump out, threw an elbow or two, and waddled my way up to Mr. Clinton and his security detail. I reached my hand out to touch his,

and as I shook his hand with my right hand,

I touched my belly with my left,

as I proclaimed,

“My baby loves you already. She kicked throughout your whole speech. She’s a very proud democrat.”

With that, he looked down,

and he rubbed my belly.

He gave it a good ole rub

and he wished me congratulations.

He told me to enjoy every minute of being a parent.

He offered me good luck.

Because I was too paralyzed to speak, he took the hint and grabbed a program from one of his guards and asked me who I’d like him to make the autograph out to.

I told him that we called her Twinkle.

He scribbled something, quickly and expertly, and handed this back to me:

To Twinkle: Have a great life!

Bill Clinton

 

How ridiculously cool is that?

I mean really, really cool, right?

He was charming and kind and I thanked him,

not only for the well wishes and the little, autographed piece of history that he provided for my daughter,

but also for making my daughter kick,

so that my sister was able to feel her little niece inside my belly

for the very first time.

I will never, ever forget that evening.

Not only because after that night, my daughter is now able to say “I was caressed by a former leader of the free world.”

But because that was the night that my little Twinkle first became a star.

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