Saturday, June 21, 2014

Camp: A Reminder Moms Are Still Needed

 Competed in my first trail run race with a group of friends.

 The view during the course!

Yes, that's blood dripping down my leg.  I tripped over a tree branch around mile four and made a not-so-graceful landing.

Afterthoughts from race:  Trail runs are much more difficult than running on a pavement course.  The twists and turns, inclines, obstacles (mud, branches, etc.) make it a challenge, but such a fun experience!  It transports you back to that feeling of being a kid again, running through the woods.

 All smiles for the finishers!

The best part about the race: all finishers walked away with a yummy cupcake!

My brother lived in a fraternity in college.  When I walked into his frat house, I felt the need to pull on a hazmat suit, hold my nose, and divert my eyes from images I didn't want to replay for years to come.  Clearly cleanliness, order, and hygiene did not fall high on the list of priorities for those college men (although kudos to my brother for being one of the more orderly ones!).

Retrieving my children from camp reminds me of that fraternity.  I have that same repulsed feeling as I observe the conditions my boys lived in for the last several days.  Take Boy Scout Camp.

Yesterday, I picked Connor up from Camp K.  He looked exhausted, dirty, and hot.  I peppered him with the fun questions at first.  What was your favorite part?  Who was your best friend?  What was the most delicious meal?

But then I snuck in the "mom" questions.

 Did you shower?

No.  Were there showers?

Did your brush your teeth?

At night. 

Use sunscreen?

I couldn't find it. 

I took a few deep breaths.

We walked to his tent and I surveyed the conditions he'd lived in for days.  Martha Stewart would convulse at the scene.  It was a rustic campsite decorated with my son's clothes, wrappers, and other sundries.  His pajamas took residence on the wet, muddy ground (the same spot he said was a common habitat for a pack of frogs).  A soggy towel was strewn across the bed.

I held my tongue and refrained from unleashing a (much needed) lecture.  Instead, I silently said a prayer:

Thank you God for keeping him safe and letting him have a fun experience.  Thank you God for the reminder that I am still needed in his life, in the least to assure he brushes his teeth, cleans his room, and hangs up dirty towels!  Amen.

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