The contents of our house are wrapped in brown paper. Tomorrow, it will all be on a container on its way to Santiago. I thought about posting a picture of it, but really, I’m just too tired.
Thomas has discovered that a closed toilet is not totally inaccessible to him. Yesterday he rinsed his binkie in one then put it back in his mouth. Yeah.
Mary got her fingers caught in a door and has spent the last 48 hours complaining about it. Loudly. It is pretty ugly (I actually took her in, which I did not have time for, but they didn’t do stitches). She doesn’t want me to put a band aid on it today — how bad would it be if we just let it heal in the open air?
Jonathan, after approximately 1000 warnings and admonitions to put all of his favorite things in his suitcase, is now devastated by the important items he forgot to pack, and therefore will not see for six weeks. For example, one cannot burn things on a sunny spring day without one’s magnifying glass.
Benjamin, whose orthodontia is about to cost us a pretty penny, since we already paid the guy here, and I assume the orthodontist in Chile will want some money too, will not wear his headgear consistently enough to actually move his teeth! Any suggestions? He’s about to get a potty-training-style sticker chart.
Sam is showing a marked amount of maturity (thank goodness) lately. Evidence — his prayer at our recent Pinewood Derby that “everyone will remember that we’re here to have fun and it doesn’t matter if you win or lose.” And a cute post-it on his current book, reminding himself to put it in his suitcase so it won’t get packed.
We are frazzled, but all is well. There is a lot of goodbye-ing, which is terribly hard. In spite of the stress at a time like this, we are constantly reminded that we are very, very fortunate.