The rain always reminds me of the five days I spent in Paris, which doesn't make much sense as I think it was only rainy for one morning when we were there. But so it is.
Starbuck plays with the sink incessantly. If I forget about her for three minutes, I know where to find her. She will be at the bathroom sink with the water running and cups at different levels of fullness decorating the counter like altar candles. Water everywhere. Possibly toothpaste squeezed out.
The doctor told me Starbuck is the kind of person we will someday call determined and tenacious and I know in my heart this is true.
At the playground, a little girl tells Starbuck she can't play with them and Starbuck leaves and plays by herself just fine and dandy for about three minutes, before bursting into tears.
But this is the same child who lowered her body so she could get right up in the face of the neighbor girls' sitting mother, ,and point a finger, and yell "Your honey's not being very NICE".
And after I recovered from my faint of mortification the neighbor mom said "that's ok, I have a five-year-old and a three-year-old too."
Ayla and I watch two little baby blue birds bouncing around against the gray sky. "They're not very little," Ayla sniffs. She is sixteen in her soul.
Indy tells a story: When I was a little girl I had a tiger. I got it at the pet store. And my mom and dad let me pick it out. But not you. I had another mom and dad.
She walks up to strangers. "Excuse me, I like your pretty dress!".
"Excuse me, I just want to pet your dogs!"
"Excuse me, it's raining outside!"
(The 'excuse me' is a total ruse. Her tone is all command.)
We are still waiting to hear back from Arizona. (Sorry mom). They want to know salary requirements. Whatever. (Yes, I did just say whatever on my blog). (I did it to prove to you how over it all I am).
Ayla is sad she doesn't have a nice bed. I watch her playing in a cozy, quiet corner of the library. The world all gray out the windows behind her. I wish she had a home with a cozy, quiet corner just for her.
Ayla knows my back is sore and begins to rub it.
Last week when it rained I made sure to enjoy it because I thought it might be the last time we'd see rain in awhile. I took my cup of tea and sat by the open window and closed my eyes and breathed up that scent.
Now I just wish we knew so we could move on with our lives.
But it's Friday.
Mr. V and I do well. We almost always do. I am grateful for that.
It is Friday, and Little Starbuck has a joke she would like to share with you.
She would especially like to share it with you when your pastor is over, or your grandma, or maybe your new boss:
"Girls have vaginas."
Isn't it wondrous, how we get exactly the right ones?
I've said it before: Without Ayla and Indy, I never could have survived motherhood.
"Excuse me, girls have a--"