Week One

The first week of camp is hard for everyone. It’s especially hard for Sam. But let’s be honest here. Full disclosure – it’s the hardest on me.

Never in a million years did I think I’d become the kind of mother that I am - a bit obsessive and kind of a worrier. I think about my kids all day long. I wonder what they’re learning, who they’re playing with, what their mood is like, anything and everything that has to do with them. I don’t for one second wonder if they’re thinking about me or expect anything back or get angry that it’s a one sided thing. I just love being Ben and Sam’s mom and wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

When I was growing up I wanted to have an amazing career, one child, a very reliable babysitter and no husband. I didn’t dream about the perfect wedding or imagine the fun I would have with my children. I was all about the job I would have and how powerful I would become. So what happened? I was moving onward and upward in my job. I was living my dream and then I got sidetracked. I fell in love, wanted to have babies and then felt like so many other working moms – everything around me was being done badly. I was barely balancing it all and wasn’t able to have fun with any of it. So I quit to stay home with my boys. I left a great track for an entirely different one and I haven’t looked back since. 

But staying home and making my kids my job has given me a whole lot to worry about. I think about it all. And then I think about it again. The tiny details - what they’re eating for lunch, who they play with at recess. And the really big stuff – Brain Balance, ADHD and doing everything I can do ensure that they grow up to be adults that I would want to be friends with.

Sending Sam off to camp is one of my bigger stresses. I worry about how he’s going to do at swimming, who he’s going to sit next to on the bus and what he’s going to choose to do for hobby. I wonder if his counselors will be patient and if the kids will be kind. But most of all I worry about him being happy. I want him to come off the bus with tales of fun. I want him to try a new sport. I want him to feel great about himself and to have a sense of accomplishment. I want him to be proud that he conquered something terrifying.

It’s the end of Week 1, so let’s assess – he scored a home run at softball, he chose soccer at hobby, he almost caught a fish, a co-camper told his mom (who told me) that he seemed really happy this year, he likes his counselors, he doesn’t want the summer to ever end and he has a whole bunch of freckles popping out all over his nose.

I think I may need to find something else to worry about.