Monday, June 16, 2008

Trademarkmama Embodied, or, my two loves collide

I went to Target on Saturday. For me, no surprise. In fact, on my way there, I mused over writing a blog post about how Target comes in third in places I am at the most (work, and home, being first and second, and sometimes in that order, sometimes not).

There are two Target stores somewhat nearby, and the one we tend to frequent has these huge, red, well, balls out front. I think they're supposed to keep you from driving into the store or something. Everytime we go to this Target, Erin's eyes light up at the huge balls, and she exclaims "ba!" and insists on running between each of them and touching them at least 7 times before we're permitted to enter.

On Saturday, we did not go to the big balls Target. We went to the OTHER Target which, lamentably, is big ball free.

Yet, when we approached the store, Erin exclaimed "ba?"

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?

Did my daughter just demonstrate an understanding of Trade Dress?

For ye of the uninitiated, Trade Dress typically refers to the look and feel of something (a store, restaurant, product packaging, website, etc.) that serves as a source indicator for the company. It's like a trademark, except it is not an actual word or slogan. One of the most famous examples of Trade Dress is the shape of the Coca-Cola bottle. Even if you take the label off the bottle, you still recognize the shape of the bottle as being from Coke.

Anyway, Target has done a great job of associating itself with the color red, thus arguably making the color red part of Target's Trade Dress.

And, I SWEAR, Erin somehow got this. I am convinced that when we approached the non-ball Target store, which is entirely red (like the balled Target store), she recognized the red, and associated it with the other Target that had the balls. And then wondered where the balls are.

balls. balls. balls. (sorry, just had to)

On Saturday, my daughter grasped a concept that even some the junior attorneys that work with me cannot grasp. Freakin' awesome.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Yes, And I Feel Fine

BPD and I were on a plane when it happened. For other pregnant women, I don't know if it happened all at once (like for me), or gradually over the 9 months.

But for me, it was at 7 months. It was when I loved her for the first time.

BPD and I were off to our "babymoon," a few days relaxing at a spa in Laguna Beach, still a few months before I ate so much that I felt a wheelbarrow was in order.

After we reached 10,000 feet (why is that the magic number?), I popped in the buds and turned on the pod.

And on came James Taylor. It was "Something In The Way She Moves," a song which I had always liked and always found romantic.

Something in the way she moves, or looks my way, or calls my name that seems to leave this troubled world behind. And if I'm feeling down and blue or troubled by some foolish game, she always seems to make me change my mind.

And I feel fine anytime she's around me now, she's around me now almost about all the time. And if I'm well you can tell she's been with me now. She's been with me now quite a long, long time and I feel fine.

Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning and I find myself careening in places where I should not let me go.

She has the power to go where no one else can find me and to silently remind me of the happiness and the good times that I know, and then I just got to go then.

It isn't what she's got to say but how she thinks and where she's been. To me, the words are nice, the way they sound.

I like to hear them best that way, it doesn't much matter what they mean. She says them mostly just to calm me down.

And I feel fine anytime she's around me now, she's around me now almost about all the time.

And if I'm well you can tell she's been with me now. She's been with me now quite a long, long time and I feel fine.

As I listened to the words that I knew by heart, it struck me that the words didn't necessarily have to refer to a lover...they could refer to a daughter.

And that's when I knew





And I burst into tears.

BPD was wondering whether my crazy pregnancy hormones made me hate airplane peanuts. The dude in the window seat was undoubtedly wondering whether I was going into labor.

and I was wondering how I didn't feel this before.

You see, I hadn't yet felt that really strong connection to my baby. Sure, I loved her in the abstract, but this was the moment of the heart faltering, breath wheezing, tear streaming, OH MY GOD SHE'S A PART OF ME.

I heard the song again last night, driving home way too late from work. Same tears, less awkward locale.