Luke is going to camp this week. That seems like a normal sentence, doesn't it? Kids go to camp all the time. Except that in this case, it's not just camp, it's also the first time he has ever been in a group situation without me or McMoose along. I mean, we've left him with friends and baby-sitters and grandparents in the past, but this is, like, real life. He's having these experiences and making connections and memories that we're not involved in. For the first time ever. It's kinda crazy.
So to prepare him, we mentioned it in passing for the past couple of weeks. Most of the time, his response was that he was excited about snack time, but not so thrilled about the prospect of being Mama-less for a few hours. And on Sunday night, I managed to freak myself out about it because--what if he hated it? What if he had zero interest in being left there? What if he cried and screamed when I tried to leave? What if, what if, what if? Of course, knowing my kid, I knew that the most likely scenario was that he'd get quiet, stand really close to me, refuse to talk to other adults, but probably not make a huge scene when I said good-bye. Turns out that I do know him pretty well because as I predicted, he looked suspiciously around, refused to talk to the counselors, asked me for several hugs and kisses, and then watched me with a frown as I told him I'd be back at lunchtime and left. No tears. No tantrum. So of course, I spent the morning dying of curiosity because--what happens in a camp at a visual and performing arts place, anyway? Luckily for me, Luke was willing to tell me all about it.
Me: Did you have a favorite part?
Luke: Yes--DANCING! Dancing was my best part of camp!
Me: Cool!
Luke: But. I did NOT like it when you left.
Me: You didn't?
Luke: No. It made me sad.
Me: Did you cry?
Luke: Yes.
Me: Did the counselors see you crying?
Luke: No. I cried quietly.
Me, with my heart breaking: So what made you stop crying?
Luke: Because...I remembered that we were going to DANCE!
Of course, that was yesterday. Today, when I picked him up, I asked what his favorite thing was again...
Me: Did you have a favorite thing today?
Luke: I liked the art project today.
Me: Oh, what'd you do?
Luke: I painted a fat fish. A round, fat fish. Like a circle. But today, I did not like the dancing.
Me: You didn't?
Luke: No. They asked me to do silly things. They asked my friends to do silly things.
Me, knowing Luke's disdain for "silly things": Uh...what kinds of silly things?
Luke: They asked me to boom like a firework...and crawl like a bug...and moo like a cow.
Me: Oh. And did you?
Luke: No. I am NOT a cow.
I don't think he completely believes me when I tell him that parents aren't allowed to come to camp:
Luke: There were other moms there again today.
Me: There were?
Luke: Yes, they stayed there the whole time.
Me: I didn't see any moms there, Luke.
Luke, using a tone that suggested that I might be the dimmest bulb in the chandelier: Well, Mama...that's because YOU were at HOME.
So between the dancing and the painting and the slime making (What brave souls these counselors are!) it sounds like a good time is being had by all.
So to prepare him, we mentioned it in passing for the past couple of weeks. Most of the time, his response was that he was excited about snack time, but not so thrilled about the prospect of being Mama-less for a few hours. And on Sunday night, I managed to freak myself out about it because--what if he hated it? What if he had zero interest in being left there? What if he cried and screamed when I tried to leave? What if, what if, what if? Of course, knowing my kid, I knew that the most likely scenario was that he'd get quiet, stand really close to me, refuse to talk to other adults, but probably not make a huge scene when I said good-bye. Turns out that I do know him pretty well because as I predicted, he looked suspiciously around, refused to talk to the counselors, asked me for several hugs and kisses, and then watched me with a frown as I told him I'd be back at lunchtime and left. No tears. No tantrum. So of course, I spent the morning dying of curiosity because--what happens in a camp at a visual and performing arts place, anyway? Luckily for me, Luke was willing to tell me all about it.
Me: Did you have a favorite part?
Luke: Yes--DANCING! Dancing was my best part of camp!
Me: Cool!
Luke: But. I did NOT like it when you left.
Me: You didn't?
Luke: No. It made me sad.
Me: Did you cry?
Luke: Yes.
Me: Did the counselors see you crying?
Luke: No. I cried quietly.
Me, with my heart breaking: So what made you stop crying?
Luke: Because...I remembered that we were going to DANCE!
Of course, that was yesterday. Today, when I picked him up, I asked what his favorite thing was again...
Me: Did you have a favorite thing today?
Luke: I liked the art project today.
Me: Oh, what'd you do?
Luke: I painted a fat fish. A round, fat fish. Like a circle. But today, I did not like the dancing.
Me: You didn't?
Luke: No. They asked me to do silly things. They asked my friends to do silly things.
Me, knowing Luke's disdain for "silly things": Uh...what kinds of silly things?
Luke: They asked me to boom like a firework...and crawl like a bug...and moo like a cow.
Me: Oh. And did you?
Luke: No. I am NOT a cow.
I don't think he completely believes me when I tell him that parents aren't allowed to come to camp:
Luke: There were other moms there again today.
Me: There were?
Luke: Yes, they stayed there the whole time.
Me: I didn't see any moms there, Luke.
Luke, using a tone that suggested that I might be the dimmest bulb in the chandelier: Well, Mama...that's because YOU were at HOME.
So between the dancing and the painting and the slime making (What brave souls these counselors are!) it sounds like a good time is being had by all.
1 comment:
:). The first time I left E she was standing sadly in the middle of the room -- since then, she's been excited about going back. It's always a little difficult to find out exactly what goes on when you're not there though :).
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