new week

This morning, John and I drove the boys to the Midway Y, where they hopped a bus for day camp. I am so excited for them, I could scream. Truthfully, I am so excited about camp that I had a hard time sleeping last night. And, no sooner had I fallen asleep than Simon appeared (at 3:45 a.m., on John’s side of the bed), inquiring as to what he should do with the shirt he had just barfed on. Bless John for being the first responder on this middle of the night crisis. He gave Simon a sponge bath, stripped his bed, and put the sheets and towel and jammies in the washer (thankfully empty). Then John took Simon down to the guest bedroom, where they both spent the remainder of the night. What a great dad! And, Simon seemed fine this morning.

As a kid, I loved camp—the activities (crafts, swimming, even KP duty), the food (hobo packs), the cabins, the ceremonies (flag raising, flag lowering), campfire (stories and songs), and—most important—the independence from my family. If I could have, I would have lived at camp year round. Suffice it to say, that it was challenging to provide the boys with just enough information about camp without overselling it, because I really want them to love it too.

Day camp this summer, sleepaway camp next summer (please, please, please). I chose a Y camp close enough to home, but still in the woods. As we were loading backpacks, Simon asked, "Where did the Ewoks live?" Me: "Endor. Why?" Simon: I'm pretending that the bus is a spaceship and we're going to Endor." Aw shucks, that's kind of cute—yet kind of a scary need to cope. Please tell me I'm not scarring the kids by taking them out of their Summer Discovery Club comfort zone and sending them to a proper camp. In nature. With fresh air.

Simon is doing the traditional day camp with arts and crafts (you should see the way his eyes pop wide whenever I say “crafts”), outdoor sports (archery, swimming, canoeing), games, hikes, and more.

Winston is partaking in rock climbing class because, quite simply, he loves to climb everything. He has successfully climbed the 45-foot wall at REI, as well as a few other walls, and when we were in Maine, he scrambled over the rocks/boulders like a mountain goat on a moderate mountain climb. This child is like Spiderman when it comes to scaling obstacles and everyday objects in his path. He needs to climb in an controlled, safe environment—i.e., with ropes and a harness. When I woke him this morning, he tried begging out of the day with a sore throat and a stomachache, which he very well may have. The family has been passing a bug since we returned from Maine. Then he said, “I’m concerned.” About what little man? “That my hands are slippery.” Thank goodness for chalk. He’s really excited about gear, like chalk, which he knows the “big boys” use.

After we dropped the boys, I accompanied John on his bicycle commute, from our home to his office. Then had a nice solo ride back home, with good tunes. In all, I put in about ten miles, with a little bit of climbing. Trying to shake the Monday out of my legs.

I know. All this before 9:00 a.m.

The new week—that is destined to be a busy week—is off to a good start. I have an interview on Tuesday, plus I have leads on a few other job openings. I’m getting my hair cut, so get to hang out with my gal Anna for a while. I've promised myself a trip to Cheapo/Applause for new tunes. Thursday is parents’ night at camp with a picnic and tour. And, somewhere in between, I’m taking my friend Bonnie on a birthday bike ride with a celebratory detour to a wine bar.

Maybe I don't want an office job...just yet...