Proof that every now and then? I must do something right.

This was supposed to be a Friday post. Thanks to my four day headache, I went to bed at 7 and here we are at 2 am. And really, a four day headache? Yeesh.

I picked the kids up from day camp today. They were outside playing under a big tree behind the Y. As I'm walking over, I'm scanning the crowd looking for them. I spot S first. She's standing just behind the tree, talking to some fellow day campers (do you call them her friends when you don't know their names?), making big gestures with her tiny hands. Her audience? Is enraptured. I wonder what she is talking about.

In my Mommy brain, I see a 5 second flash forward when I look at the kids - baby to current age in a photo montage in my head. Because of that, every now and then I am stunned at how.....individual and independent the kids are. Then it hits me - I'm so in the routine of things that it's been a while since I've stepped back and given them the opportunity to step up. This is also why I want them in day camps and preschool so that my tendency for the staus quo doesn't hold them back. As a parent, I don't always see objectively, and while I mean well and truly want the best for my kids, I tend to get stuck on auto pilot and not realize it.

By this point, I'm almost to the tree, and I see T on the ground looking up at the sky making these jerky gestures. What's that about? There is a girl lying close to him, also looking up at through the tree. Hmmmm. At this point S catches my attention again as she sees me, screams "Mommmiiiieeeeee!!!!!" and flings herself at me with glee. I catch her up in a big hug as my heart melts. I'm so lucky. I am so loved. I ask if she had a good day, and she starts chattering about how she was the princess and these (gesturing to the other kids) are her 'people'. It's good to have people. People come in handy.

T, what are you doing? I ask. T extends his arm for me to help him up and tells me "I am a robot" in his best robotic voice. The girl beside him tells me they were looking at the clouds through the tree leaves to see if the shapes changed.

"And did they?"  I ask them

"Well, yeah," the girl says "because it's hard to see the clouds through all these leaves."

I see.

T isn't ready to leave, which is a nice change from earlier this week when he didn't want to come to camp. I go and get their book bags from a nearby picnic table and when I come back the kids are saying goodbye to everyone. My kids are huggers, which is sweet, but it makes it hard to convince them that not everyone wants to hug all the time. Both of them refuse to believe this is even possible, so I was interested to see how the hugging goodbye would work. To my surprise, they offered hugs to everyone but forced them on no one. Excellent! S went up to a little girl I've seen her playing with before and says, "Hug?"

The girl declines. S pats her on the back and says, "That's okay. I hug you in my head." 

Maybe S is onto something. Maybe if we went around hugging people in our heads, we'd all be a little happier, more patient, less self concerned. Maybe not. Seems like it's worth a try though.

I'm hugging all of you in my head. Goodnight.