Well, Granddaughter #1 has made it safely to college at the other end of the state. Her parents and the Little Rotten Baby accompanied her to help her move in and shop for last-minute things she didn't know she needed. They'll be home later this week. Meanwhile, Granddaughters #2 and #3 and Duffy the Cat are with us. Duffy's canine brothers are with the other grandparents.
We picked up the granddaughters and the cat at their house. Saying goodbye to #1 was tough. I vowed not to cry, and managed well until I heard The Husband sniffle as we were backing out of the driveway to go home.
We'd scarcely gotten home with the girls when #2 talked #3 into asking me to take them shopping. The store where they wanted to shop is full of nothing but cheap bait for kids - almost everything is $5 or less. Though shopping for anything is anathema to me, we went shopping. Upon seeing all the trinkets they were dropping in their basket - fake nails, lip gloss, little tubs of glittery slime, etc. - I feared for our bank account, but the total wasn't all that bad.
The girls like spaghetti, so that's what I fixed for supper. When I asked whether they wanted salad or slaw with the spaghetti, one said salad, the other said slaw, so we had both. #3, the nine-year-old, is the slaw girl. When she was 2, while preparing for a cookout at her house, I asked her dad if he wanted me to make slaw. From the other room, #3 said, "I want you to." It seemed funny to me that she had been listening to our conversation, and funny that she knew what slaw was at age 2. It seemed even funnier when she pigged out it. What 2-year-old eats slaw? She pigged out on it again last night.
The salad-eater never ate any salad, having gotten too full on garlic bread.
#3 is a tender-hearted child and tears-up easily. After dinner, she borrowed my phone and sent her sister a voice message that she loves her and misses her. At bedtime, she gave my phone back, clearly disappointed that her sister had not replied. This morning at breakfast, she said she cried all night, missing her sister. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she teared up again at the table. But we talked about it, and she seemed okay when The Husband dropped her off at school on his way to work.
#2, being an official teenager, is mostly eager to confiscate her older sister's bedroom. I took her to school this morning. She was loaded down with stuff: a heavy bookbag, a gym bag of volleyball clothes and shoes, a lunchbox. She has a locker, but apparently doesn't use it much. How she manages to lug all that stuff around all day is bewildering. She will play in her first official volleyball game tomorrow. Nanny and I, who have spent many an hour on baseball, football, and softball bleachers, will go and learn the rules of volleyball.
I worry mostly about my son and daughter-in-law. A child moving out (for whatever reason) is a big life event for both the child and the parent. My daughter-in-law is a worrier, and a warrior, and will find it hard to turn loose of her baby. At least she is able to voice her worries, something that my son is genetically unable to do.
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