as we enter the thirty-third week of pregnancy with our third hobbitling, a familiar phenomenon telltale of the third trimester envelopes me yet again -
insatiable craving for literary fantasy.
perhaps it's due to the physical weariness of being "great with child." perhaps it has more to do with the immortal theme of springtime drifting in through open windows as i prepare the nest for another little one. (now that i think about it, all my third trimester experiences have taken place in the spring.) whichever the cause, i once again want to spend all my free time waddling about the lands of myth, faerie, middle earth, narnia, or even hogwarts.
this is not without precedence. five springs ago, when i was in my third trimester with boookie, a vintage copy of
beowulf was the inspiration for changing his name from the traditional scots-gaelic spelling.
three springs ago, when i was in my third trimester with ela, i actually caught myself talking to the faerie residents of my lenten rose after rereading
the story girl.
(to clarify, my embarrassment was due to the fact that i was talking to faeries in the middle of the afternoon when, of course, they were trying to sleep.)
this spring, my third trimester travels in faerie land have been renewed but with this distinction: i no longer travel alone. every morning at michael delving, a guided tour of faerie land begins another twelve-hour installment, courtesy of the hobbitlings and their budding imaginations. it is sweet to my literary soul! grown-up responsibilities usually prevent my taking advantage of the
entire tour each day, but even these responsibilities are made much more pleasant if performed while eavesdropping on a world where plastic swords defeat evil foe and where sparrows are lured to bedroom windowsills with high-pitched singing.
here is ela, not lolling in the grass as it may seem, but taking an out-of-doors "princess nap" in the style of every illustrated faerie tale known to man. the shimmery princess crown is one of her two favorite head ornaments; the second is a pink baby blanket which instantly transforms her into disney's vixen maid marian. currently, ela's favorite song is "the islander" which chronicles the tale of earendel the mariner and his princess elwing. ela calls it "the song of sad elves."
when her alfresco couture has just the right amount of twirliness, ela spends hours outside answering only to the names "cinder-ela" and "little queen lucy." one of her very favorite things to do is to stroll around and around our lamp-post sweetly calling, "aslan! aslan!" this makes our neighbors cluck their tongues and giggle; it makes me remember the Lion's paraphrase of john 10:27...
"you would not have called to Me unless I had been calling to you."
as far as boookie is concerned, why stroll when you can slaughter? his imagination has been utterly captured by broadswords, hooded cloaks, faithful companions following him into battle, and dragons gloriously slain. here is our fearless warrior, in full armor, jousting with a dark and faceless enemy. (note the lopsided lamp-post crossbar. that was the work of a single thrust bulls-eye, thank you very much.)
also note the red windbreaker worn under the breastplate. this is a deliberate part of the uniform. boookie thinks it makes him look like prince philip from disney's "sleeping beauty." when he's not verbally compiling a code of conduct for all "good soldiers" (they always let ladies go first, for example, and they never, never wet their pants), he spends much of his time devising the perfect stratagem for undermining and capturing maleficent the witch.
the good soldier/ prince philip/ sir peter wolf's-bane/ high king peter/ king aragorn. when he's wielding a claymore, please address him as one of the above. or pick two! he's feeling generous!
"the Lord is with me; He is my helper! i will look in triumph on my enemies!" psalm 118:7
spring's beckoning to me from the borders of faerie land has never before been such a source of joy, nor has the road to faerie land been peopled with finer fellow pilgrims! each day i learn a little more from my hobbitlings' creativity; each day my genuine enjoyment of their company deepens. i marvel at their imaginative capacity (and feel a surge of pride over their emerging literary taste!) this spring and this third trimester, i have traded solitary waddlings in faerie land for the privilege of watching my hobbitlings wander its forests and fields for the first time.
and all the delight of faerie land is mine!
...is a joy for as long as it takes a hobbitwife to find her tape measure and PROVE to a nonplussed world that she IS NOT CRAZY!
seriously? eight and a half inches long?! what a load of... small nuggets! ::sigh::
once my parsimonious opinions had been countered by the general populous and the nuggets and i had reached a tentative detente, there still remained to me the arduous task of troweling forty feet of boxwood hedge back to respectability. my thirty-four week pregnant self was not looking forward to it.
while i and my fish-tail weed "popper" harvested dandelions from the front lawn (this is the world's easiest and most therapeutic outdoor chore), the selfless mayor of michael delving spent hours turning sod, pulling up tufts of angry crabgrass, and finally spreading the much-maligned small nuggets so that his hobbitwife did not have to! 
...the small nugget look is finally starting to grow on me.
thank you, hobbitses! you are my hero!
