I Forgot

My kids are home from camp. They came home Sunday. I spent Saturday stressing. Anyone who knows me will not be surprised by that statement. Anyone who doesn’t know me and actually believes last week’s post was real, will be confused.

Shouldn’t I have been looking forward to their return? Of course I was!

Shouldn’t I have taken advantage of the last 24-hours of alone time with my husband? Of course I did!

Shouldn’t I have been happy they didn’t get eaten by bears? Of course I was!

Shouldn’t I have relaxed those last few hours before they arrived? Of course...yeah, not so much.

See, I forgot my kids.

No, I didn’t forget them anywhere. But I did forget who they were and what they were like. Obviously, my goal to relax and unwind was very successful.

I forgot:

• They don’t clean. I spent the day straightening up the house, knowing that when they came home, their gross camp stuff would be everywhere. Part of me thought that if they walked into a clean house, they would be inspired to put things away right away. Yeah, I’m laughing right along with you.

• They are self-sufficient. I’ve been able to get a lot of writing and editing done while they were gone, because I had time to myself. I didn’t think I’d have time to do anything (other than laundry, which apparently makes them scarce when I start it) once they came home. They’re teenagers. Once the non-stop camp talk pauses, they go off to SnapChat, text, watch TV and all other electronic things they’ve been unable to do the past month.

• They are exhausted. We have a lot of things to do in the next eight weeks and I assumed we’d start as soon as they walked in the house. Oh yeah, they’ve been at camp for a month, are sleep deprived and sick. They’re not doing much of anything. I might be ready to tackle my to-do list; they’re not.

• They’re my kids. No matter how nervous I was for fantasy world (or, as my husband likes to say, 1998) to end and the real world to start, they are my kids and we have our own rhythm that we automatically slip into as soon as we’re together. It’s not always good, it’s not always bad. But it’s ours. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.