Coffee for Two .01

Good morning! I hope you have a warm cup of coffee/tea to enjoy. Mine is the “classic” roast from my local grocery store, brewed in a French press, with a dash of half-and-half but no sweetener. L (my best friend) and I would spend hours at Starbucks and let our Frappuccinos (mine often, though not always, caramel, hers strawberry) melt while we talked. Between us our conversations would often shift to the Bible. We find it to be really interesting, especially with our modern perspective trying to understand the perspective of a person who’d never seen a glowing screen or even a penguin. Our perspectives differ from each other in that I used to practice witchcraft and she used to be Mormon, so she was exposed to it through the filter of her church and I was not exposed at all. I’m self-motivated to read the book myself and come to my own conclusions rather than have someone else create their own context. (Example I had someone say that the Bible condemned my lifestyle, when on the contrary it actually condones it. Nowhere in there did it say that woman cannot lie with woman like she lies with man, just that man cannot lie with man like he lies with woman, in the same book that tells you that you can’t wear blended fabrics. Shame on you for your polyester blend, ya heathen. But that’s okay, because New Commandment, y’all.)

Okay, fine, I’ll stop now. My point was supposed to be that L and I will usually talk about that topic over coffee but I wasn’t going to go there with you. (A little late now, I know.)

For Mother’s Day the Girls came home for the weekend. I was concerned about what that would look like because when I get home from work I will do laundry and dishes and dinner straight away and still have work unfinished. What was that going to look like with 4 more that don’t yet clean up after themselves?

I am relieved to tell you that it was much better than I anticipated. We didn’t have to have everything prepared for the obligatory, court appointed Skype call by 6pm, so that pressure was lifted. And it felt peaceful having all the girls home where they belong, so much that when I went back to work the next day it felt like I was coming back from a weekend break. I finally gave the girls the Pink and Purple Princess Gloves I’d made them. Only Geraldine was enthused, especially because it matched her entirely pink wardrobe.

Guinevere was at first wary of all these new faces in her home, like she is with all strangers, except this wariness melted very quickly, and she enjoyed having all these other girls to play with and enjoyed sharing her toys and drinks with them. Geraldine especially loved making her laugh.

I was doing dishes when behind me I turned to witness Grace squeezing Guinevere’s cheeks together so hard it knocked her on her bum. Guinevere cried and Geraldine was there immediately, kneeling swiftly on the floor behind her. “Oh, come here, baby!” and she YANKED Guinevere into her lap, who willingly curled like a kitten to be consoled, no longer crying. Our children have such kind hearts; it’s stunning.

I’ve wanted to do a #weekendcoffeeshare but limited myself to making the post on the weekend. My weekends are Sundays Mondays, so I need to stop placing this limit on myself or it won’t get done, as you can tell by the layer of dust in this place. I hope you had a great weekend, yourself.

IMG_0833
French Espresso

Blue

I lay Guinevere in her basinet. The basinet is crammed between a small corner desk and the play pen that serves as Grace’s crib until she moves into the big girls’ room. Ten month old Grace pulls down the blue blanket I had hung on the edge of the basinet, tugging on it and tangling it around her feet, fussing from frustration. “Don’t take that, your sister’s using it! Look, you already have one.” I unwrap it from around her legs and start to tuck it under Guinevere when Grace starts wailing. Experimentally I hand it back to her. She snatches it up and goes quiet.

“Really?” I ask. Alice watches, dumbfounded. “Fine then,” I announce, and I take the pink blanket from right next to her, and turn my body to hide it from her view.

I wait.

Silence.

“Really?” I tuck the pink one under Guinevere.

Unaware of the event that took place, Bailey comes in and sees Grace with her thumb in her mouth and the blue blanket bundled in her arms like an adored stuffed animal.

“Grace has this obsession with that blue blanket,” she informs us.