Last night I had my first good night's sleep in what has felt like forever. Working nights screws you up so badly that it's hard for your body to figure out what to do when it's dark, and I spend many nights staring at the ceiling, the anxiety of knowing that I will be tired the next day chasing around my circulating thoughts. So I had a couple of nights at work this week, then a couple of those nights, and then last night exhaustion got the better of me and I slept like a baby, sausaged in the bed with both kids. Whatever it takes, as all mothers know, whatever it takes.
The kids had camp this week. Sofie loved hers but Nathan hated soccer camp. Mean guy in charge spent the whole day yelling at them and made several kids (my son included) cry. Kind of a downer when you spend a bijillion dollars finding the perfect situation for your kids. I guess better luck next time for us. Hopefully sleepover camp later in the summer will prove to be more of a joy. One can only hope.
Camp is simultaneously glorious and hideous for me. Do other parents feel this summer time frenzy? I am delighted that they have somewhere to expend all that energy, run and play with friends, and counselors to manage their needs all day. On the other hand, it's another thing to set my alarm for, make the lunches, don't forget to pack the towel, fill the water bottles, rush out the door and have them deposited in two completely different locations at almost the exact same time, only to turn around and retrieve them in their utterly exhausted state six hours later, bring them home and keep them from killing each other while I stare at the fridge, bleary-eyed from working all night, and try to figure out which of these left overs could become tonight's dinner. Is this easier than lying around all day and trying to nap in between Garfield episodes? The jury is still out.
I am trying to be the good single mother who can make it all happen, keep my kids lives fulfilled without losing her mind, but as any mother who tries to pull this off will probably tell you (unless she is either totally lying or smoking crack) sometimes it's not worth the heartache. I think camp is necessary for some of my sanity this summer, if I am able to catch even a couple of hours to myself to keep ahead of the terrible mess building up in the house, or pay my bills, or even (gulp!) go for a quick run, I feel like a hero. But apparently (and this is a shocker) sending them to camp is not going to be the answer to finding my inner calm.
Tomorrow we head to our undisclosed Pennsylvania mountain location for a week with my wonderful extended family. Lounging by the lake, long walks, and cocktails and novels on the porch await. Now there is some inner calm channeling calling my name. So ready.