"Bye-bye! See you tomorrow!" called Bud. "See you at Christmas!"
Waving in tandem with her brother, Sis repeated, "See you at Christmas!"
They didn't really no what to say as Gommie left this morning. Truth is, we'll see her in June sometime when we go there, not sure when she'll foray north again, probably Thanksgiving or before. This year, not Christmas.
It capped a whirlwind 24 hours of activity, from church to lunch at the Japanese restaurant yesterday (not herbachi!), where Gommie enjoyed California rolls and seaweed salad and the kids tucked into shumai, gyoza, and yaki udon again. Once at home, they went tricycle riding in the newly snow-free landscape. Then rest time (and Bud fell asleep on Gommie) and lots of playing--dinosaur museum, dinosaur world, camp out, car races (hence this post title, which is what they were shouting at each race's start), I don't even recall what all. Dinner only interrupted the play a bit and then they continued, the most happily engaged and energetic independent play of the whole visit as the adults watched on.
Bedtime, which was late, was a bit of a slog, with lots of tired participants and some inelegant parenting. We were trying to get the room cleaned up from the camp out, while getting them through their ritual, all while ignoring that this was the last bedtime of this visit, and there was lots of grumping from kids who didn't want to go to bed but were too tired not to. "Why can't I do things in the order I want to?" Sis pleaded at one point, as Mama tried to marshall them out of the room to brush teeth so she could clear up the sleeping bags. Ugh. Then things were just about settled, when Sis lost her balance while closing her drawer and slammed her finger in it. Hard. The swelling, the tenderness, the pain. We all know it hurt and Tylenol didn't do much, but she wouldn't let us go near it with ice. (We're going to the doctor this morning to see the extent of the damage, mainly if they need to puncture the nail to drain the blood or have an x-ray. Sound like the end of another visit? When there are kids, there are accidents).
This morning found us trying to balance getting ready for school and getting Gommie ready to travel, with the last of the play time. The kids did remarkably well at ignoring her imminent departure, replacing dinosaur world with a forest in the basement. Gommie was in charge of finding forest animals (a "buffa-yo" is not a forest animal, Gommie!). When it was time to go, everyone got up, got dressed, got their stuff, and headed out the door.
At the train station, instead of letting Gommie out and watching her board the train from the car, we headed into the coffee shop where Gommie got tea and the kids got candy and a bag of chips. What was that article about grandparents making kids fat? (For the record, that was grandparents who are daytime caregivers for kids with working parents in Britain. Not your average spoiling grandparent during visits). But the distraction worked and no one cried because their faces were too stuffed and they were too excited about treats for breakfast as they hugged Gommie and then waved goodbye as she boarded the train. There were even smiles all the way to school as they ate their food. Not a bad way to say goodbye.
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