Monday, August 4, 2014
Have I ever told you that I sleep with my glasses on?
I want to be prepared if one of the kids need me overnight. I want to know I will see clearly. And if I need to jump into action, I'm ready.
Okay, it's sorta crazy. And I may be a bit paranoid. But I don't think you can blame me. For over two years, I've lived every second in a state of panic. I've over analyzed every single thing about my son, from the temperature of his skin to the number of bruises on his legs to what he's eating to when he's pooping to how he's feeling to whether or not he's showing any number of possible reactions to medications. I've gone into detail with his school, I've talked to all of the parents, I've made his friends sanitize before they come into my home. I've called the on-call oncologist at least 100 times.
But at the same time, I've tried to give Ari a normal childhood, filled with fun and play and friends and activities. And so this summer, we decided to send Ari to day camp. First, we sent him to his school's camp, and when it ended, we signed him up for another camp.
I toured the camp and I spoke to the director only once. I don't know the names of his counselors. And I don't even know the names of the other campers. But this morning, I packed a lunch and a swim bag, I applied his sunscreen,
I had nervous diahreah, and I drove to the camp. I was shaking the entire drive there. Confident Ari would say he didn't want to go, I almost turned the car around and went home. Maybe he would cry and refuse to get out of the car? Or maybe he would ask me to stay with him? Either way, this was a bad idea.
But then we arrived. A counselor greeted us at the car, unbuckled Ari from his car seat, and whisked him away. And he was fine. Smiling, holding her hand, and waving goodbye, my little baby boy went to his first real day of camp.
I know he deserves this. It's an opportunity to be independent, to be normal, to play all day, to experience new things, to make friends, and to have fun (without his mommy by his side).
Of course, I've been crying all morning. But I think they're mostly happy tears.
Maybe this is a sign that I can begin to sleep with my glasses on the nightstand.
And I can't wait to pick up Ari this afternoon and hear all about camp. Hope I'm not so excited that I make a big spectacle.