Friday, June 10, 2016

It was OK. Phew!

You guys have no idea how much all the emails, comments, phone calls, texts, and offers of alcohol and refined carbohydrates mean to me. I mean it. You guys are the best. Lesson number one: have good friends and vent all of your junk on the internet.

Also, an UPDATE:

After spending much of the day Wednesday staring at my computer in a stupor and experiencing a fight or flight response every time my phone made a noise (which was a lot because see above: awesome people), I bought myself an ice cream cone and drove to the camp for pickup. I finally got up the nerve to get out of the car and approach the pickup area, where I found Charley happily sitting on a bench he had made himself at the "carpent-ing" station (his word that is now my favorite), like "What? Yeah it was a good day, why do you ask?"

Look at that sweet face, could you just die? Could we freeze time for just a little bit longer?

We picked up Wes and a friend and were invited in for a beer when we dropped off the friend and we had a perfectly lovely evening with earlyish bedtimes and happy children and I was left wondering if I'd made too much of the whole thing. Perhaps something I need to work on is allowing the kid to have a bad day once in a while like a normal person without turning it into a BFD existential crisis. Even though everything still FEELS like a BFD existential crisis, which is I think perfectly reasonable given our experience of the last two years (a realization I had when a psychologist came to talk to our Sunday School class about teenagers' brains and when I described our experience in the broadest possible terms to her she looked me hard in the eyes and asked who *I* was seeing to support *me*. Answer for now: my wonderful, long-suffering friends).

Yesterday was another good day because they went to a waterpark and did some other fun things I haven't been able to figure out and got a ride home with a friend and immediately jumped into our wading pool and ate tacos outside for dinner. We were supposed to have another friend stop by, but they ended up having a conflict which was just as well because around the time they were supposed to arrive James and Wes were engaged in hand to hand combat over, oh, I don't know, splashing? Slide rights? Who the hell knows what they are fighting about all the time.

But they were being really fun and cute for a while:


I also took a picture of PTO (Pool Time Out, not Paid Time Off) in the name of journalistic integrity.


Things came to a head when Wes maliciously let all the air out of the pool. We were upstairs angry-changing into pajamas and angry-teeth brushing when Ryan came home. Today we have after-camp dinner at the pool with friends plans that are absolutely pushing it as far as tired kids go, so next up you can expect either a hilarious rant about the time I had to carry four screaming children to the car or gauzy pictures of magical summer funtime Norman Rockwell #happychildhood #blessed nonsense. It will not be in the middle, this I know.

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