Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
But the Gator Farm birthday celebration is proving a delightful exception to the rule. The weather is gorgeous, the party is small and not the slightest bit screamy, and Mimi is having a blast.
I swear, watching your kiddo find her people is like watching the houseplant you’ve nearly killed finally get the right amount of sun and water. Not that I’ve ever almost killed Mimi. Obviously.
But I have been worried…
Worried that the combination of her intelligence, niche interests, and her disability would keep her on the outside looking in. Worried that the kids who left her out of the fun in pre-school would move on to actively bullying her in elementary.
But today…
Well, today, the sun is shining and so is she.
The girls had a fantastic time during the farm tour, got to hold baby gators, and are now deep in dessert and discussion at a kid-sized table in the party pavilion. Ruby and Sage are sweet, creative kids who don’t think it’s odd that Mimi’s been making up stories about the alligators all morning and is currently leading the debate on alligator intelligence.
“They’re really good hunters and grow up all by themselves, without a mommy or daddy to teach them,” Mimi insists, gesticulating with her icing-coated fork. “That’s pretty smart.”
“My dad says animals have instincts, not smarts,” Sage counters, adjusting her tiny round glasses.
“But dogs are animals, and some dogs are dumb and some are smart,” Ruby adds in her adorable lisp. “So maybe that means animals are just like people. Some are smart and some are not very smart.” She wrinkles her nose before adding, “But probably more are not very smart because that’s how things are.”
I bite back a laugh from my spot at the parents’ table, where I’m nursing my third juice box. Apple, because we ran out of fruit punch, and sadly, none of us thought to sneak iced coffees into the cooler.
“Wise beyond her years, that little bug of mine,” Chelsea murmurs, casting a wry smile Ruby’s way. “Poor thing. She’s going to spend her life growing progressively disappointed in the human race. It’s all downhill from kindergarten.”
“Oh, stop,” Miranda says with a laugh. “She’ll just be…realistic about the human race. Realistic is a good thing.”
“I agree.” I nod. “Realism, tempered with optimism. That’s what I’m going for, anyway. I figure it’s better to be honest with Mimi about how hard being a human is sometimes than for the hard stuff to come as a complete surprise.”
“Wise.” Chelsea nods. “I wish my parents had that attitude. I still haven’t forgiven my daddy for saying I could grow up to be anything I wanted, only to find out after five years of Peewee football that I actually couldn’t become a kicker in the NFL.”
“And your legs are incredible,” Miranda agrees. “You had potential, kid. Sorry you didn’t get to kick balls for a living.”
“Well, thank you.” Chelsea laughs as she tosses her long blond hair over her shoulder. “But it’s probably for the best. There are only two guys in our office right now, and I want to throat punch them at least once a week. If I were surrounded by men, I’d probably be in jail by now. The older I get, the more the male of the species brings out my stabby side.”
“That’s because you’re pregnant,” Miranda says, pointing to Chelsea’s cute baby bump. “I wanted to stab everyone when I was pregnant.”
“Same,” I agree. “But I thought that was just the rampaging teen hormones. Good to know I wasn’t alone.”
They both laugh, warm, accepting laughs that confirm we’re moving past the “it’s weird that Elly had her baby when she was practically a fetus” phase of the mom-friendship zone.
Maybe we’ll become real friends, after all. Our quirky babies certainly have a lot in common. It makes sense that we would, too.
There was a time when I worried that Mimi’s circle of friends was small and danced to the beat of their own drum. But watching her now, laughing and talking a mile a minute, I realize this is better. It’s not about having all the friends. It’s about having the right ones, who see what a treasure you are and can’t wait to spend time with you.
The thought makes my mind drift to Grammercy…
Everything is so different with him. Before, even with guys who seemed cool with me having a child, Mimi changed the way they related to me. I was never just Elly, a woman they were attracted to and wanted to know better. I was Elly, the single mother, Elly with “baggage,” who forced them to plan in advance and think about babysitters and things most men in their early twenties aren’t ready for.
But with Grammercy, I’m just Elly, a woman he finds fascinating, who happens to be the mother of a little girl, who he also thinks is great. He sees us both and cares for us both, separately and together.