I just dropped my baby girl off for her first day of Day Camp.
Ok, yes, I realize she’s not a baby; far from it, in fact. She’ll be seven next month! But, this nervous mama admits to taking more than one look back after leaving her at the picnic shelter this morning. Would she make new friends? Would she be able to open all the things in her lunch bag? Would she be ok in the pool later this afternoon without my direct supervision???
Deep breaths. She’ll be fine. But what if she’s not?? She’s painfully shy, especially in this type of situation. She’s not a strong swimmer. What if she gets teased for that? I should have kept her in weekly swim lessons (insert Mommy Guilt *here*).
Ugh. More deep breaths. She is a good girl. She makes friends easily because she doesn’t buy in to the clique nonsense. The camp sold out its initial two week stint and added an extra week, so it obviously has a good reputation and is a good program. She’ll love it. If nothing else, she should sleep well this week.
My sweet girl puts up with a lot of crap. Being the younger sister to a brother with special needs, and the older sister to a very rambunctious little brother, she has her fair share of drama at home. She gets treated as the oldest child and is expected to set the example (yes, unfair, and unfortunately we never realize it until after the fact). She deserves to have a week away and have loads of fun. Exercise, fresh air, swimming time, new friends…I hope she gets it all and enjoys every second of it. But I’ll still worry…every. single. second.
I keep flashing back to a few summers ago, when I took her to a local church for a week of Vacation Bible School. We are not members of that church, but I thought it would be a fun activity for her. Turns out, the poor thing sat in a little rocking chair every day, by herself, because she was so unhappy that I left her there. Of course, that’s her memory of it; I’m certain that the staff of that VBS at least tried to engage her in some activities. At any rate, I now envision her sitting off by herself at this camp, waiting for 4pm to roll around so she can come home.
She’ll be fine. What are the odds of that happening twice?
Bottom line: my little girlie is growing up, and fast. I need to realize that she can’t always tag along at my side, nor will she want to. She deserves a break from her brothers. She’ll have a great time.
I can’t wait to hear her chatter on endlessly about her day…only 5 hours and 40 minutes to go…