It's been a long time since I wrote. It's been a long week.
Full of heartbreak and happiness.
Triumph and tragedy.
Conflict and compromise.
You know, pretty much like any other week. Existentialism is depressing and makes my mind hurt, and Flickr likes Katie better than me, but these are things I'm trying to learn to live with. At the moment, they are unimportant.
Andrea is starting college tomorrow.
I think that I'm freaking out way more than she is. I met her a week ago, I swear! It hasn't been that long! It hasn't been years!
My childhood is flashing before my eyes.
Last Sunday we were horsies. Evil men wanted to lock us up in dark, scary cages, when all we wanted out of life was to be able to run freely on the prairy hills and comb our long, beautiful "tickle-me-pink" manes.
Monday Andrea was arguing with Kelsey about who got to be the youngest when we played House. And they finally decided that they would be twins, that was fair, but then came the all important question: Which twin was born first?
Tuesday we had a water fight with that-boy-across-the-street-who's-name-no-one-can-remember and his cousin, who's name was Alonzo (maybe), but Andrea called him Lasagna, either because she couldn't pronounce his name or because she liked teasing him. And Mei hit one of them across the back side with an umbrella, which was peculiarly violent for her, but which we felt meant a definitive victory for us.
Wednesday we played mermaids in her pool. Well, Kevin and I were mer-people. Andrea was a dolphin.
Thursday morning was middle school. Around twelve high school made it's appearance.
Friday she graduated and gave her valedictorian speech with the Dr. Sues quote. Katie and I missed it because we were so sure that graduation would last four hours (like it had for the last thirty years) that we walked in an hour late, armed with note passing materials, just in time for the alma mater, closing remarks, and lei giving.
Saturday Katie, Andrea, and I threw a going away party, without once acknowledging it was such. I signed her yearbook and looked over the clothes that she wasn't taking with her in the amazing tent we'd made.
(This picture doesn't even come close to showing how fantastic this tent was. We strung the sheets from the ceiling fan, which made my mom a little nervous because it was tipping significantly to the left. "I hope it doesn't kill you in your sleep," she said. Optimism, Mom. We covered the floor with pillows and quilts and blocked out the night with cloth and clothes pins, just like we used to when we were six. It was genius. Almost cream puff level.)
Yesterday we made crepes together and played Apples to Apples and laughed and told stories about that kid in Utah who smuggled a penguin out of the zoo in his backpack and who's parents found out when he was playing with it in the bath. We turned off the lights at two.
And tomorrow Andrea is going to college.
Can someone get me a wheelchair please?
I feel old.