This common medical affliction has descended upon our house with full force. No one is happy today. Everyone wishes they were back at camp. Which is a total 180 from what happened when I picked them up from camp yesterday, Ben and Madie couldn’t stop talking. Ben was a chatterbox. He was so proud of himself and all of his accomplishments (more about that to come). He had made so many new friends. He loved everyone in his cabin. His counselor, Adam, was fabulous and the entire experience was beyond great.
I got to camp about an hour early because I wasn’t entirely sure where the camp was and there was NO WAY I was going to be late. My arriving early meant that I was able to see some of the final activities for the kids. I was able to spy on the kids for about 20 minutes before they knew that I was there. I just stood on the hill overlooking the field where they were all gathered and tried to fight off the tears. There was Ben with his superhero cape on (they made them at camp) flying around from friend to friend talking to everyone. If you know Ben, you know that he is an introvert so for him to feel so comfortable to be talking and laughing to so many people meant that he was among friends. All of the kids were smiling and playing. Madie was busy running around talking and having people sign her pillow. When they finally saw me, they couldn’t stop talking over each other to introduce me to their new friends and counselors. They were ecstatic about everything. Their friends, their experiences, the food, the songs, etc. I was thrilled to see them both so happy.
Today (and half of yesterday) that happiness has turned to sadness, especially with Ben. He is so sad. Here was a camp where he wasn’t different. Today he turns back to reality where his entire day is spent being “different”. He is pulled from regular class to go to a different class for his learning disability. He is pulled out of recess to go to the nurse for his daily blood pressure check. He doesn’t participate fully in PE. He can’t go outside with his friends today because it will be over 85 degrees so he will go the library and play computer games by himself. This weekend was different. He was just like everyone else. The camp was structured for kids like him. He wasn’t the different kid.
His sadness makes me sad. I go over to hug him and he just slumps against me and says he wants to go back to camp. I know that I need to just give him time and he will get out of this slump. I can’t fix it. He has to do this himself. All I can do is love him and let him know that I am there if he needs me. And don’t worry . . . I’ve already put next year’s camp on my calendar so I make sure that he gets to go again!!
The Puddles 