early grieving

This week two of us are taking off on a college scouting and summer planning adventure. Troy and the fabulous five will continue on as usual in Port-au-Prince while Paige and I jet-set and tour (a tiny part of) the world.

Paige is finishing up her Junior year in a few weeks. Jimmy and Becky Burton have done a fabulous job of helping Paige work hard this year to fill in gaps on her transcript and prepare to take the SAT in early June. They have committed to return to teach the kids again next year and see Paige through her senior year.  What a gift to us all!

Truthfully, we are horrified by the speed at which this day has arrived. It was just a few moments ago that Troy was patiently arranging the seam of Paige's socks just-so over her fat little toes before dropping her to preschool. Paige's ongoing refusal to agree to just stay with us forever and ever and ever has been one of the bigger annoyances of 2012.

2009 tomfoolery 

We'll be visiting universities in Texas and California and meeting a woman that is offering Paige sort of an internship type of arrangement to work with horses and learn more about therapeutic riding this summer.  Paige has some pretty fancy-pants plans in the works for her June and July. We simply cannot understand why California with fun friends, beaches, surfing, horses, and adventure sounds more fun than summer in Port au Prince with us. It's a giant mystery for sure.

The number of people/places we hope to see and things we hope to accomplish on this college trip is quite intimidating.  Dr. Jen agreed to come along with us. (In her other life she plays a career and college counselor.)  My organizational skills are decent, but hers are epic. Jen's presence as a second driver and planner will allow for me to do more grieving, lamenting, whining, and thrashing about on the ground.

2007 the day Lydie arrived

I vividly recall doing this trip with our oldest daughter Britt in 2007. It was less than thrilling for Britt that I was visibly pregnant with Lydia. I probably felt worse about it than Britt did. There really is no way to suck in a tired, old, grand-multipara uterus. Trust me, I tried.

That event marked the beginning of figuring out how to release a child into the big bad world without ending up in an institution with locked doors and no windows.

It stands to reason that if I pulled it off once, I can pull it off again.

Surely I can pull this off again, right?

Let the early grieving begin.

(Troy's mocking Adam Sandleresque song from late last year all about this very thing)