So, I took both boys to the camp this morning; it was the same time I'd ever dropped them both off at the same place at the same time. Child 2 is attending Child 1's camp for this last week before school starts, and he's going with his best friend H and H's brother C. I think today was kind of a rehearsal for next Wednesday when he starts Kindergarten, except he won't have his best friend with him, but I'll be taking him to a brand new place with brand new kids and brand new teachers for the first time.
He's perfectly happy, by the way, but I'm sure you knew that. He's eatin' apple slices and running around and will soon be king of that place, as he is most likely destined to be king of every place that he graces with his presence. Me, however, not so much. I have a sick feeling in my stomach and my hands are shaking. Seriously? WTF is wrong with me? He's perfectly fine so what am I fucking freaking out about?
I think that all teachers and camp counselors who care for my kids think I'm a total freak because I'm always rambling something completely incoherent to them about how I'm freaking out at the moment. On my way out I told the dude sitting there that this was like practice for Kindergarten. He says "he seems pretty social and easygoing," like he was surprised that I would be so fucking weird about the whole thing. Yeah, maybe he should be surprised, because he doesn't know how much of a neurotic mess I am most of the time.
Whose brilliant idea was it for me to have kids in the first place? The only thing I can do is try not to let my weirdness rub off on them, I don't want them to become weird, too. Fuck.
3 comments:
Then there was H's mom following Child 2 and H around going "do you want a tour...let me arrange a tour for you." Now who is the neurotic parent? You are doing pretty good jillsmo. But, I think I'm going to hurl.
Well, you had 2 kids starting a new place with new kids and new teachers on the same day; I think you're allowed to be twice as ill. Wait, why didn't we go to that bar around the corner????
There is a scene in Forrest Gump where he sees his son, and he askes Jenny if his son is smart...not like him. I always cry at that scene. It's what we who worry, worry about. Our faults, our 'weirdness", our imperfections as it were. We don't want them to have any of it.
Anyone who cares about their kids wouldn't want to trust them with ... themselves. Who are we? We don't know what the hell we are doiong! Who gave us these kids to care for? We suck at this!
My son will never be able to read like a normal person. We have made plans for him to live with us for the rest of our lives. You are not alone.
But on the other hand. There is no one else who would freak out and worry their asses off for them like we can. maybe that's why we are parents... because we are weird. maybe "normal" parents couldn't cut it. :)
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