Kids at Camp=Freedom

Every time I travel for work (or pleasure) I’ve left my darlings with my darling husband (DH). My DH has PD (Parkinson’s Disease) and so I’ve never felt a clear conscience about traveling. I worry. I have worries that they’ll be late to school — they are. I have worries that the house will be a mess when I return — it is. I have worries that they’ll stay up too late — they do.

So the idea of sending the kids to camp — of having people in charge of my kids who are not chronically ill or chronically worried — is a huge sigh of relief.

And it’s not like I’m sending them off to work the fields. These places are situated on beautiful lakes, with Arts n Crafts, horses, swimming, camp-outs, possibly S’Mores!

I have one child to drop off tomorrow. With the first two, I have felt like I’m shedding clothing on a hot day. Or dropping ballast from my hot-air balloon. Just briefly, I am traveling lighter. I am less worried, and yet, slightly untethered. The kids are my compass, their needs are always pointing my way.

They’ll only be gone a few weeks. In that time, I intend to stay late at work, work on my novel, , work out, , throw a party, paint the dining room, get my financial house in order, get to a museum, If I can sneak in some Arts n Crafts time myself, I’ll be happy.

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