During the first part of of the day, yesterday, I had wanted to write about my anxiety, but then I read my fellow blogger's perfect explanation and knew my own description would fall short. It was one heck of day... so much waiting, so much anticipation, so much fantasizing and so much fear.
I got dressed while the girls' napped and carefully clothed myself in all white, for optimism. I put on my best turquoise jewelry and looked in the mirror knowing that it was the last time I would ready myself without knowing where I was going (for a while anyway). Then I put the girls in their best dresses and clumsily loaded us all into the car. I was shaking the whole time. I was excited (but also really hungry because I started Weight Watchers last week). As I pulled into the gates at FSI, I breathed deeply and found my sweet, wonderful husband waiting on the other side.
Entering the room, I could feel the tension and excitement. There wasn't an officer or a spouse or an eligible family member who wasn't feeling the same sense of helplessness that I was. But, oh, my helplessness was to get much worse. With the help of a friend, I got seated with my infant and toddler. And for a moment, all was well. We were looking forward at the giant screen that read, "Welcome to Flag Day," and knew within an hour or so, our most pressing question would be answered. And just as I got nice and comfy, Adela started to freak out. Like, completely freak out. Like I have never seen her freak out before. Out of total humiliation at my lack of ability to control my eldest child, I threw Flora and her bottle to my friend and ran out of the room with Adela dangling from the crook of my arm. I begged her, "please, please, please Addy. This is such an important moment for us. Don't make me miss it." But that seemed to only inspire her frenzy more. So we walked and walked and walked. Occasionally, I could hear the crowd explode when a delighted officer went to pick up the flag she had so hoped to hold, but really, it was just murmurs from a distance. Soon, it became clear, I had missed the moment.
As I looked at Adela with such sadness, the sun was shining brightly and I surrendered. It wasn't such a big deal, right? As I turned to walk back toward the building with the hope of it all being over and done with, Stefan opened the door, and came walking towards us. He had a big, bright, mischievous smile and from around his back, he pulled a tiny flag.
And all was well and good, indeed.
Little House in the Big Tokyo
1 week ago