‘we should come home from adventures and perils and discoveries every day with new experience and character’ Henri David Thoreau
Two weeks ago my children left for 2 weeks of camp-one for the seventh year and one for the fifth year. This is a spectacular experience for them- as they get to live independently from me, make decisions on what to do next, whether to brush not too brush (hair, teeth, God forbid), wash, whether to burn their skin or slather screen,whether to hydrate or go hours without the ‘sacred’ water bottle, whether to read/ giggle/play into the wee hours of the morning or turn lights off and get the weary body to bed. They are able to choose friends and make a “household of 8” work and co-operate like a well oiled machine. They can focus on achieving badges, conquering fears and changing their underwear at least daily… or not.
From December onwards they dream of the magical place where mom has no legislative powers, where they can sing in a talent show or perform in a play I will never see, I won’t say “those shorts are indecent” or “how was your day, sweetheart?”, or sit up straight and don’t complain.
I send them mail and am lucky to get one letter back justified by “we are WAY too busy mom”. This comforts me. I tell them and myself over and over to enjoy the moment, exploit every experience to the fullest and be where you are when you are there. I don’t want them thinking of home or me for one single minute. Have to admit I barely thought of them.
This year I got one letter only. In it she spoke of conquering a fear we both have- heights. I have worked with her on this for years and it would only make perfect sense that she would accomplish this without me. No narration, no encouragement from mom. She is so proud of herself.
On the back of the envelope in chicken scratch “momma, sorry this is sooooo messy but I am writing it in the dark -I have no time to write” And sealed with a kiss (a dry one) She hates the wet ones.
I savoured this post like I watching some else finish my crossword for me when I am stuck. You so beautifully draws that line so many of us blurr with confused ideals of controlling or authorizing or editing the lives of those we love, big and little.
I really benefitted from your simple illustration of how to know when to participate and when non-participation is equally value in important situations.
By the way, Clare (my number 2 who is 3) has now determined kisses in general no matter how dry are still too wet. We are relegated to the domain of her head for kisses these days…still delish but the neck rolls are slowly smoothing out and I have to steal many kisses these days before it’s too late.
yours,
Id