The kids are away at sleep away camp this week. And of course I miss them, and of course I don’t!

My job as a mother has been to worry about my kids. It’s exhausting. From how much and what they are watching on tv, making sure they go outdoors, using sunscreen, the proper sunscreen, wearing helmets while riding their bikes, making sure they eat their vegetables, making sure they get enough sleep, look both ways before crossing the street, that they are kind but not push-overs, that they are growing up to be independent, reliable, smart, empathetic members of society, as well as worrying about too many other things, but mostly that they feel love. I don’t remember not being worried. 

But the kids are away this week. It’s on the camps shoulders to worry. Obviously I am worried about them, but it’s on a much different level. And as the worry dies down, I find myself again. Staying up too late painting, sleeping in till noon, eating when I’m hungry, having the music way up high, cursing (cause I can), watching scary movies, and other things not so kid friendly. 

I didn’t notice how much I missed this till now. Spending the summer with kids is great, but so is spending this week with myself.