Graduation Day!

I'm so proud of my step-daughter, Gwen. Yesterday she graduated from the Hockaday School. The young ladies were SO gorgeous in their white dresses and hats. I had not realized that, at 122 students, they were the largest graduating class from Hockaday.

It was an outdoor ceremony, and quite warm at that. The terrace was beautiful though, and we were under shade trees - so the breeze was wonderful as the sun went down.

I'm not going to post all the pictures, as we were sort of far away and Gwen ended up being tiny, but here's the one that counts. Yes, it's a little fuzzy, but she got her diploma!!!!



YAY GWEN!!! CONGRATS!!!!

(And just as one of those little side-notes, I admit it... I cried tears of joy when she received that little piece of paper. If/when she gets married, I think the flood control guys might have to be called! lol Guess that's what she gets for having an emotional step-mommy.)

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Of course, when you take a "thundering hoard" (Rob's name for us when we have ALL the kids with us), other cute stories are likely to arise. Frankie and Marguerite were big hits with everyone around us -- and invariably three people asked, "Are they twins?" I've learned to close my eyes, grin and bear it, but dang I hate that question! But all in all, those two were precious angels. They were hot outside, but they really didn't do a lot of crying.

Frances (pushy little thing that she is) realized I had a bandaid on my finger. (I broke my fingernail far enough down that it was bleeding profusely when I tried to put Frank's shoes on and he kicked just the tip of the nail. OWWW!) Of course, comical conversation with my not-quite-two-year-old ensues in the midst of graduation:

Frances asked me, "Sticker?"

"No, it's a band-aid." (I was still looking for Gwen to make her way through the procession.)

"Take it off." Yes, she did demand this with one hand on her hip (the other held the sippy cup), stomping that little left foot of hers.

I was a little startled at first, but said, "No, it's a bandaid for my hurt. I'm not taking it off." (I gave her the logical explanation, silly me, and looked back towards the chairs where the girls were making their way onto the terrace.)

"Mommy! Take it OFF! I want wear it!!" She yelled this definantly. There were quite a few snickers from the row behind us.

"No."

"Mommy, NOW!" More snickers, and a few people in the couple of rows around us turned to look at her commotion.... so what do I do?

I took her picture! And then, "Go bother Bubba Desse," I told her, and she quickly went over to see if HE had any "stickers" she could take off of him.

Hey, the distraction worked (sorta) though you can see in the picture that she's holding her hand out towards the camera (aka the finger with the band-aid). lol