In addition to the cream and sand-colored striped rug and the mosaic glass dragonfly side table with a plant on top, the front patio’s facelift now includes a cedar-colored rocking chair, complete with a two-inch cream pillow pad. The speaker barely squeezes onto the side table, but its melodic, dreamy tunes will be the new way we greet guests at the door.
Since my workload has decreased by 63% since the start of the year, the universe seems to find ways to keep me connected to people—like the power line worker with a metal detector. After placing six red flags in the ground, Joshua noticed me watering the freshly laid sod and said, “I didn’t want to spray paint your new grass.” Fast forward 20 minutes—because no encounter with a stranger in the South is brief—and I could feel his stress about being in over his head at work. Too many fires to put out, too much responsibility. I wouldn’t be surprised if his company truck finds its way back here, not for work, but to sit in a rocking chair for a chat.
Today’s emotional rollercoaster came courtesy of Evelyn, who went from calling it the “awesomest” day ever to a puddle of tears when she realized her first lost tooth had disappeared from the black card table on the back porch. I swooped in with comforting words about how the Tooth Fairy doesn’t need the actual tooth to leave her something special. Now I’m considering drawing her a watercolor picture with teeth, rainbows, and hearts, maybe a little note that says, “Happy Tooth Fairy Day.”
I wasn’t expecting her to lose a tooth so soon, but here we are. While typing this, Evelyn came and sat beside me, asking a series of very important questions about the Tooth Fairy. “How does she get in the house?” I told her we’d leave the door unlocked. “Does she have hands?” Yes. “Are you sure she doesn’t have little needles?” She grimaced, using her fingers like tiny claws. I reassured her, yes, she has regular hands. “How strong is she?” Very strong. Satisfied for now, she left, and I just heard the front door swish open and shut. Quiet again.
The pool project officially kicked off today, with dirt being moved from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. I’ve been anticipating this for months, and now that it’s happening, I feel oddly detached, like I can’t believe it’s real—kind of like the tooth loss.
Homeschooling Evelyn is also becoming real. I’ve joined a few Facebook groups to get a sense of the community, hoping we can find some playdates or activities to attend a couple of times a week.
Well, I’d better get to drawing that Tooth Fairy picture before it gets too late. Adios muchachos. Love, Jaclynn.
Going On 40 