The last time I had heard a doppler, I was greeted with relative silence.  When the midwife found the baby's heartbeat, I got a little teary.  I was surprised to feel no self-pity, but pure joy for Lori.  Her baby was alive and kickin', and all the pain and frustration of her day would soon produce a sweet reward.  "Lori, that's one of the most beautiful sounds in the world!"  (Not for pure auditory enjoyment, because, to be honest, it's a little fuzzy and crackly, but as an indicator of LIFE, what an encouragement!)

I changed my tune, because the next most beautiful sound is a baby's first cry.  Air in those lungs.

The Mosquedas came over this afternoon.  The boys split and stacked wood while we girls visited inside.  Baby Mosqueda is expected to make an appearance Any Day Now, so we did our best to get Lori onto the trampoline.  Ha.  No, we just camped out on the couch, laughing and singing.  The girls pulled out all sorts of trivia cards, but the big hit of the evening was trying to remember lyrics -- without the tune -- of old, familiar songs.  "When the world and I were young -- just yesterday -- love was such a simple game a child could play.  It was easy then to tell truth from lies, selling out from compromise, how much to protect your heart, the foolish from the wise.  But today there is no day or night, to day there is no wrong or right, today there is no black or white, only shades of grey..."

Fall soccer is in full swing, and Mari is in heaven.  She loves soccer anyway, loves pushing herself during practice, loves the pressure of the game -- but this season she loves her team.  Her first team may have been full of great athletes, but this team is full of great people.  Mari remarked, "I'd rather lose with this team than win with my old team."  So far, the best they've done is tied, but I believe they'll win one before the season's out.