Pomp and Circumstance for the Last Time

Yesterday, CPI graduated from high school. This marks the end of an era for us. We now no longer have any children who are not full adults. This is a little sad, for I greatly enjoyed the years in which I stayed at home and cared for played with the children. We had many great adventures and a few (now) laughable disasters:

1. One year, IRP received for Christmas a kit of beads to arrange into artistic patterns and then iron together. She left one of her projects on the table. The two-year-old CPI decided that one of the beads would look most artistic up his nose. Accordingly, he placed it there and then PANICKED! It is 4:45 on a Friday and I am trying to remove a bead from the nose of a panicked toddler. I say to him, “Blow your nose, baby!”. He inhales sharply. “No, no, stop!” I look up CPI’s nose to determine the position of the bead (I know, I should have started here). It is visible and I think I can get it. I cannot. RTA (10) and IRP (6) look up CPI’S nose and begin to argue; RTA, “It’s blue”. IRP, “There are no blue ones in the kit. It is black”. You must imagine this argument as a backdrop to all that now ensues. I begin looking around for something smaller than my finger. I find a bread tie. I make this into a hook and proceed to carefully thread it up CPI’s nose in an attempt to get the bead. I cannot. It is now 4:55. I call the doctor and plead with him to stay open until I get there. Everyone piles into the car. CPI is now screaming AND crying. The argument still rages. It continues while we drive to the doctor’s office, check in and go to an examining room. There is NO way I am leaving RTA and IRP alone in the waiting room. It takes two nurses and me to hold CPI down while the doctor removes the bead with a long pair of slanted tweezers. IRP triumphantly remarks, “I told you it was black!”. We all go out for sodas. Except for CPI. He gets the “Brave Child Award” of a small shake. He consumes very little of it and then falls asleep, exhausted from his adventure.

2. TSG decides that it is a good day to go to the zoo. FMP remarks that it is supposed to rain at about 10:00. TSG assures him that, if we get there at 8:00, we will be long gone by the time the rain comes. Guess who is right? Yes, FMP. We are at the back of the zoo in the children’s area when it begins to pour. This area is about half a mile from the front of the zoo. We decide to wait it out. It is still pouring thirty minutes later when we decide to make a run for it. We are soaked before we go ten feet. There is now no point in trying to wait for anything. We stop near the entrance to the zoo and go into the Bird House to warm up. TSG almost ends her skating careen across the floor by falling, but is saved by the 16-year-old RTA. It is warmer in the bird house and the birds are very entertaining. Now, back to our flight. We have another half mile to reach the car since everyone else had the same idea we did (except they brought umbrellas). We reach the car literally streaming with water and begin a desperate search for something to dry off with. I cannot drive as water is pouring down my face from my long hair. RTA braves the weather once more to search the trunk. Nothing. About six months before, I had had abdominal surgery. Under one of the seats, far back, we find the girdle I wore to support my stomach as it healed. I had not put it back on after my last doctor’s visit and had forgotten to take it in. This is the only dry thing in the car. So, I dry my face and the younger children do, too. RTA resists. Finally, he says in disgust, “At least this isn’t our side of town and none of my friends will see me!”. We now refer to this as “Swimming at the Zoo”.

Hopefully, our new chapter will include more fun and adventure. Much love to all my lovely children!


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