*sequel to In Your Atmosphere*
1966 was a year of seismic changes for the Beatles. By the end of the year, the last single Beatle, Paul McCartney, was on the verge of saying "I do" to his California sweetheart, Marisol Hemingway. And then life happe...
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The
Dear Diary,
What will 1967 hold for my little family?
So far 1967 has brought a daughter who talks nonstop and is into everything (along with her new puppy), a husband who works hard and loves hard, and a worldwide press who can't seem to get enough of the three of us. The good news is, I'm surrounded by people I love: Angela, Mal, our new housekeeper Rosie. Even with all the craziness outside our walls, life inside is very, very good.
This afternoon while I was changing Melody's diaper I told her Mommy and Daddy were going on a date tonight. I wasn't sure she was even listening. She gets so distracted every time a furry tail passes by. Then at tea she looked up at me and said "And Mellzie?" That's what she calls herself so I said, "What's that?" She said "And Mellzie...date?" For the last hour or so she'd probably been wondering if she was coming on the date too. I laughed and said no, she was having a date at home with Angela and Rosie.
It's a dream come true having Angela here. She's so bonded with Melody. We came home the other day from some function and Angela was bubbly. "She's so beautiful, she keeps trying to talk to me, she's so sweet...oh, Marisol, you're SO lucky!" All I could do was smile. Angela said Melody had fallen asleep in her arms, which she's never done for me, so I asked, "Do you hold her up on your shoulder instead of across your lap?" At that point Melody scooted up on my shoulder, burrowed her face in my hair and started to hum. (As if to say, 'This is how you put me to sleep, silly mum')
Our baby understands so much of what we say now. And she seems to love people. Paul insisted we spend part of the holidays with children who were in the hospital over Christmas. He said he wanted Melody to remember Christmas as a time to think about people less fortunate. We had to come armed with gifts, naturally.
We stopped by Harrods, looming over Knightsbridge like an ocean liner bound for the North Pole. In the Christmas Grotto, Melody ran straight to Father Christmas and hugged him. She had watched him give a candy cane to another child and she said, "And Mellzie? And Mellzie too?"
We bought stuffed Lassie dogs for the younger kids and Lego building sets for the older ones. In the hospital a couple of nurses took us around to the children's ward. Melody gave out the toys, saying "kew-kew welco" (thank you welcome) as she handed a toy to each child. If they didn't take it right away she'd say it louder: "A KEW KEW WELCOME!" So I had to nip that obnoxious behavior in the bud right away.
Paul got the urge to sing Christmas carols, and suddenly there were younger nurses coming out of the woodwork with stars in their eyes all giggling at Paul and no nurses left monitoring patients so we had to cut the visit short. The newspaper never found out about the hospital visit. They were too busy reporting on how I wore the same jeans three days in a row because my husband is mean.
