Get a grip woman.......

This is what I keep telling myself. Over and over again. He'll be fine. He'll be in capable hands. Just not mine. The Chaperones are more than competent. Just not as competent as me. It's not like he's never been away from home before. He has. Not like he's never spent a week at camp. He has. But he's always been no more, than an hour and half away from me. Gone no longer than 5 days. Within my grasp. His first year at camp. His first day to be exact he woke up with an ear infection. I had to get a prescription called in. I picked it up. Left work and drove all the way down there. I didn't mind the 2 1/2 hour drive during rush hour. I had my mother to keep me company AND make the drive !!! I didn't mind that I had worked all day. I just wanted to see my baby. I got there and was told they were playing "Capture the Flag" down at the beach. So off we go across the highway. Heading towards my baby. Whom I have no doubt is missing me as much as I am him. Our levels of withdrawal equal. We see him walking up from the beach. I stand there waiting to see the joy to spread across his face at the site of me. I'm waiting to hear the sweet words that come out of his mouth. They do. They are so clear. However, they are.............."It's NOT Friday yet !!!!!!!!".

Not exactly what I was hoping for. My mom busts up laughing. My son is fine. He's not missing me as much as I'm missing him. He was 9 then. He will turn 14 on this trip. He will be gone when he turns 14 !!!! Now I have to let him board a plane and fly to Washington DC for his 8th grade class trip. He will be gone 10 days !!! He's excited !!! I'm terrified !!! He's going to learn so much. See so much. I'm going to be a total wreck !!! I ask him if he's going to miss me. He says he's just excited to be out of the house for 10 days !!!! What ?!?!?! Are you kidding me ?!?!?

I remember feeling SO grown up when I rode Greyhound to my Aunts house. From Portland to Waldport I rode. I had my walkman. My Teen Magazine. My snacks. My pillow (that was most important). I did this by myself. Let me tell you, there are some CRAZY people that rode the Greyhound. I was 12 the first time I rode. I wasn't scared. My mother probably was. That's probably where I get it from. It's probably because he's my only one. I know he'll be fine. I can hear him now clearly saying, ......"It's NOT Friday yet !!!!!!".

Oh, where has the time gone ?