Pining....

Maya left this morning for an overnight 'camping' fieldtrip with her class. I say 'camping' in quotes, because they get to sleep in heated cabins. That's MY kind of 'camping' too, by the way. I remember going to science camp when I was in 6th grade, which was a 1 week camp that all of the school kids went to. It was SO FUN, perhaps the most fun legally allowed for kids who haven't gone through puberty yet. So I'm sure she is going to have a GREAT time, hiking and singing around the camp fire (if they don't get rained on...storm scheduled for tonight or tomorrow early), giggling with her friends, getting really dirty and muddy, all of that.

And me? Well, I have the night off from homework and kid type obligations. Ted and I could conceivably go out to dinner or a movie...but since he gets up at 4AM, and I get up at 5, I don't know how much stamina we'll have for painting the Wednesday Night Town red. We'll see.

Mostly, right now, I'm missing my girl. I mean 99.99999% of me knows that the mad fucker isn't going to attack my child in her sleep tonight, he's going to go somewhere else. And that same 99.99999% knows she won't fall and break a leg, or have an appendicitis or something like that. I mean, what are the chances? I make fun of people who worry when their kids are gone camping overnight. I think, "You worry wart, get over it..." But the thing is, this is the first time she's done something like this, and....she didn't want me to come along. They need several parents to come and spend the night, so that there is an adult in each cabin to beat off the mad fucker, should he come along. I was going to volunteer for this job, assuming she would want me to be close by. Wrong. She wants to be 'independent' (her word), and would feel moreso with me at home, and her there. I'm doing something right as a parent, right? If she feels confident enough to do this, Maya, who used to hide behind us when we would drop her off to school, who wanted us EVERYWHERE with her, if she wants to be more independent, then we are doing something right, and she is growing up. But I miss her. How could you not miss a kid who leaves notes like this outside her bedroom door when she's mad?

Notice the T-Rex holding the note, and that he's standing on drums. How can you not love that?

And how can you not love a kid who sews a stuffed trilobite and names her "Emily" (thanks Auntie Kathy, for the sewing help on this one!), and sleeps with her for weeks? I mean, really.


She's a special kid. We are very fortunate to have her. :) So, I intend to enjoy tonight without her, and be thrilled to see her tomorrow when she comes home, tired, filthy, and happy.