There was packing.
There was last-minute errand running.
There was the parent-child tension, that bled into parent-parent tension, that comes with both of the previous realities.
There was the requisite family night. Two, to be precise.
The packed bag weighs too much. There will be a fee.
We’ve known for several months that she’d be boarding a flight this morning.
To Washington, D.C.
Doing what she loves: Ballet.
They’re called “summer intensives,” which, as I understand it, are aptly named.
They’re part of the process if you want to dance professionally.
They last anywhere from 1 to 6 weeks.
This is our third summer of doing this, so in some ways I’m used to it. We’re used to it. The process has gone much like the previous two.
I won’t see Kid2 again until mid-August.
That seems so strange. Yet, so normal.
I’ll miss her, but yet I’m thrilled she has these chances.
So, today, I’m happy/sad. It’s just the way it is.