THE GREEN GRASS GROWS

Thanks to almost two solid days of rain, we already have grass sprouting in front of the house, peeking up through the seed blanket. It was only about nine or 10 days after we planted that we saw the first little shoots. We have great soil and live near the bottom of huge hill  next to a stream, so the grass is truly greener in our little corner of the world. Over the next couple years we'll plant some small trees and garden beds here, but we really need grass right now to help with erosion. I can't wait to be done with all the MUD. 

Johnnie has barely slept the past several nights -- two hours Monday night, three Tuesday and about six last night. I think I'm missing a night in there, but forgive me as I haven't slept either. She's quite a consistently good sleeper these days, but between the three teeth that are threatening to poke through any moment and the fact that she hasn't seen her dad all week, she's become a basketcase. I hold her, we read, she snoozes, and she screams when I lay her down. She pats my face as I rock her, and I feel bad for being grouchy. Poor thing goes through this every time she gets a tooth. She only has four right now, and it's terrifying to me that children get, what, 20 of them? I pray they at least come in pairs.

And of course she would completely derail the week I had to make a major appearance at my company's board meeting. With bloodshot eyes and a throbbing to the left of my skull, I made it through... although at one point I had to say "the Archbishop of Canterbury's Secretary" (don't ask) and I thoroughly botched it (twice) while she herself was listening in from London. But the board was pleased with what I had to say, and at that moment that's all that mattered, and I've been soldiering on like a good zombie ever since, like mothers do. 

And of course Johnnie also can't sleep the week I am all alone in parenting her. (Single parents, you are my heroes.) Ez has been in Honduras all week, building an orphanage. (That sounds fake, but it's true.) He's been mixing concrete by hand and pushing a wheelbarrow around 12 hours a day as they lay the foundation for one of the residences. I am so proud of him. He comes home tomorrow night, and I can't wait. I know Johnnie will be thrilled too. She has been pointing at various rooms, saying Dad and venturing in to see if he's there. Dad will be home in a couple of days, I tell her. He's off building a new home for other little girls who don't have daddies at all. She doesn't understand, but she needs to know that exists. 

It's been an interesting week for more reasons than I can recount here, but I am tired and thoughtful and thinking a lot about the future, the present, the sad little girl with the sore gums who misses her daddy and the little girls in Honduras who have no mommy to rock them when they're sad. 

And the green grass grows all around.