When my kiddos were little I took lots and lots and lots of pictures. I don't so much anymore and sometimes I wonder why not, since every picture makes me smile and who doesn't like to smile?

The above is my eldest being a cat.
I don't blog about my kids if I can help it because A) other people's children are not nearly as fascinating as you might think and B) since I amazingly enough have the three best children in the world, I don't want to spend all my time bragging. But today I will bend that guideline because...
two of my chicks have abandoned me.

These two chicks specifically. The top one started going to a boarding school two years ago and now the above one has joined her.
I didn't plan on having them go to boarding school. I didn't really want them to go. But sometimes opportunities jump up and punch you in the nose and you have to grab them. In other words, they both got scholarships and they are at a great school, and I mean a REALLY great school, and they're successful and happy and who doesn't like all of that? Except for the not within hugging range thing.
And although they are officially in boarding school, it should also be said that they are in boarding school in the next town, and they can and will actually come home on most weekends and I've been known to drive over and have lunch there, so when I say boarding school I'm not talking interstate travel. But still, not under the same roof, and that matters.
It also means that I don't or won't spend any time telling them to clean up their dishes or fussing at them about homework or yelling at them to go to bed or... So when we get together I just get to be the good parent and say, "Ah, that sounds tough!" or, "Gee, I think you handled that well." I like being the good parent. It also helps that they are both amazingly diligent, bright, resourceful, dedicated students. So there's that.

This child painted her fingernails, for example, and although you might think that's the Norwegian flag, those are actually math symbols. Because she's like that. I mean, really, a fourteen year old - math symbols. What's a mother to do?
So the last month has been getting the two girls situated to move over to their dorms, and this last week saw them disembark. That and seven soccer games and volunteering for the soccer tournament.
I'm not saying the house looks like it was abandoned during the dust bowl era, but if someone did say that they wouldn't be so wrong.

This is the child left at home. And he is as wonderful as he looks because he's basically been raised by the two above (who were his handmaidens) to whom I pointed out that you get what you raise, so although they doted on him they also were pretty clear about him pulling his weight. I'm left now with his child who dances with excitement and gratitude because I finally got around to getting him new sneakers (he went from a four to a six and a half over the summer). He has spent two whole days - TWO WHOLE DAYS - pointing out in specific detail the way his sneakers are amazing and what he really means is - they fit.
Sunday night after the girls were both gone and the games played, him and me and Dad sat on the couch and watched Despicable Me and the next night DM2 because that's a good thing to do instead of weeping.

There's no DM3, so I'm not sure how I'm going to get through the rest of the week, but I will and then I will get to hug and kiss some people come Friday night. And next week it will be easier (and the house will be neater, which actually helps) and so it will go.

And I wouldn't have thought it, but somehow this (above) helps with the absence of this (below).
