Speechless; I can babble

I have not blogged since the celebratory notes were sent shouting our joy, excitement, nervousness and wonder at Charis' being in the family way.
I have been nervous to write - feeling like one of my students who says, "I do not know what to write." It is a bunch of bull, there are ideas and stories galor in them. They do not know where to start or feel confident enough to write; how I feel. Where do you start when nothing you write will even shed a flash of truth to how you feel: overwhelmed, jubilant, amazed, awed, terrified, giddy.
I watch Charis become more beautiful everyday. Six inches already, one day that six inches will make my laugh, cry and teach me perspective and truth. My knees do not work.

My earliest memories are playing in woods. I have memories of climbing pine trees and my palms covered in yellow, sticky sap with brown streaks on the edges, spending hours and days in undeveloped land off the suburban housing neighborhood in Columbus, Ohio riding my bike up and down motorcycle trails - thinking I was so cool wiping my butt with leaves after a poop in nature (early humanure composting), leaning off a dock with water up to my hairless armpit picking snails out of Columbus lakes, night hiking and seeing a plethara of stars and my first satelite.
The liquid in my veins dance the salsa with glee thinking about the farm with Ellis and Theolonious or Cordellia running around for hours, days, playing and creating in our woods; throwing their first axe and cutting wood, riding Colby or Giddeon on the forest trails, pooping for the first time in the basement compost, chopping garlic, eating pizza, drinking beer, playing scrabble, dancing and creating whatever joy and activities they discover and come into.