Punkin’

Finally the rain has come. It has almost rained for weeks now — big, heavy gray clouds laying low in the sky. But no payoff. Just stinkin’ hot. But today, this afternoon as my girls nap (yeah!), the tears from heaven come pouring down. The pumpkin patch that planted itself and is flourishing in our front yard is being watered. The front lawn, dry caked mud from being dug up and re-top soiled, is being watered. My car? Cleaned. All of Baltimore? Hydrated.

I haven’t mentioned the pumpkin patch on 20/20 yet, have I? Funny. You’d think I would have, considering how much delight it has brought me over the past two or so months as it has exploded. Really. I smile every time I gaze at the big, deep yellow blossoms that open up in the morning. And I smile when examining the gigantic four or five pumpkins that have grown, despite my ignoring this huge, curlique vine with sharp green leaves in front of my house. The girls are also obsessed, especially Beenie. It is where we go first, before going anywhere else. To look at the pumpkin patch. We all wonder when the deep green pumpkins will turn to orange. Or will they? I like green pumpkins, too. Just don’t want them to rot and get eaten by the squirrels.

My patience level with my daughters is infinitely larger the closer I may be to gainful employment of some sort. It no longer seems infinite, this staying at home situation. Sad and fantastic. I am ambivalent about our time together at home, ending soon. I will probably curse myself once it is gone. But I am already cursing myself and have been for months now, feeling a bit useless and emotionally depleted. Lost in getting ready to wait for things to change. Making things change. Now that they appear to actually, maybe, hopefully be changing, a fair amount of dread is leaving me. And I will take this. Because it doesn’t suit a mother to be full of dread. I’d much rather be full of happiness for this time with my beloved darling daughters. And for the most part, lately, I am.