I just sent my son off to sleepaway camp for his first time, for a month-long stay. In a perfect world: I should be partying. FREEDOM! Truth: I have a splitting headache and my eyes look as if I’ve been punched by Rocky Balboa. All of a sudden, it feels hard to breathe. I know that he asked to go away this summer, I just have a very heavy heart. I wish I could be like the moms who smile and wave, and off go their kids, merrily on their way, as the bus drives off into the distance. Unfortunately, that’s not me, not my husband, and not my kid. He’s attached, I’m attached, and it’s the only way I’ve known how to raise my kids – in the bosom of uber amounts of nurturing, affection and love. I’ll spare you the gory details, but truth is, it was very rough on him.
So, my favorite word shows itself once again. As my son starts a journey of his own, his first journey without his safety net, I send him an expression of good wishes, albeit from afar. But today, my heart feels broken.
Some days, motherhood is a bitch.
Godspeed my son, xo