My baby has gone camping. So he’s just grown past 5′ 9″ tall, and I needed him to put the cereal on the top shelf yesterday. He’s still my baby. And I miss him.
The school has a two-day camping excursion where they stay in yurts, eat who-knows-what and commune with nature. I keep checking the schedule to see what he’s doing now.
As I write, he is on the climbing tower. He will love the climbing tower.
He will actually love everything. Except, possibly, the exceptionally rustic restrooms. But he’ll forget all about those, since he’ll be so busy hiking, climbing, playing and bonding with the other kids.
After a month of school, he really hasn’t made any close friends at his new school. I’m hoping this will give him an opportunity to get to know them better, and to realize that they are all, like him, just struggling to fit in.
Before he left, we had a talk about the cell phone. We allowed him to take it with him – even though it is strictly forbidden until times of rest – so that he could send us a text at the end of the day, letting us know all is well.
(Last year, we all went to China. Dylan was traveling with his chorus, and Shane, Bill and I were on the family bus. So I actually pre-wrote several short sentences for Dylan, already cut and stored in a baggie, so that he could just slip me a note and let me know how he was doing. In 10 days, I only got one note. I think it said, “I’m okay” and I got it on Day 2 of the trip.)
So while I’m not actually expecting to hear from him, Bill and I also told him to limit his outgoing texts to family and friends from his current school. I had this vision of the boys sitting around in their yurt, wanting to text the girls – and not having the right number for Dylan’s favorite girl because I didn’t let him take his cell phone.
So now he has his cell phone. And his sleeping bag, and his toothbrush and some soap and deodorant and other necessities that he will likely ignore for the next two days. And he has his iPod, which he adores and will probably lose.
But he has everything he needs. And I keep reminding myself that he is in the company of plenty of great kids, being chaperoned by lots of adults, and he is probably having a fantastic time.
I am the one, sitting at home, agonizing.
How am I expected to survive when he goes off to college?