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And, lo, the parenting gods said, “Let there be a zoo camp from 9a-4p the week before kindergarten.” And it was so. “Thank GAWD!” quoth the parent known throughout the land as “me.” For on the horizon loomed the promise of uninterrupted work and not refereeing fights about which identical sandwich half is bigger. There was much rejoicing.
Days like today make me feel like I feel stuff wrong. My five year old daughter is at a camp from 9a-4p this week – her first full day camp ever – and what’s my reaction? Is it scrapbooking the moment or using it to create new family traditions? Is it marveling at how fast she’s growing up or tearing up as she walks into the camp’s gates?
My reaction is, “Thank merciful, sweet baby Jesus for this camp because I am SO OVER SUMMER.” It has literally been five years since I’ve had a reliably uninterrupted six hour period on a weekday to hear myself think. And I need it badly.
I love my kid. She’s great. And I wouldn’t let her go to all day camp or all day kindergarten if I didn’t think she was ready or wasn’t confident she was going into a safe space. But I do think she’s ready.
So off you go, kid! Seriously. I mean it. GO. NOW. Meet the world! Mommy will be at home reverse engineering a goal focused career plan to intensify my efforts as a creative professional whilst completing zero domestically inspired Pinterest projects.
Trust me. This is the best for both of us.