Today, everyone in my family had camp, except me. Tony runs his soccer camp; Dominic has First Stage camp, and Sophia has Raptor Camp. I am at Starbucks Camp. Open enrollment.
I find myself feeling like a sociologist at these drop-offs. I love watching the families. Moms and dads kiss their littles goodbye, teens might wave as they sprint away to meet friends.
When I see the mamas walking in their littles, it makes me nostalgic. The backpacks are bigger than the kids. My kids are now almost bigger than me.
I don't want to go back, I don't want more babies, and I honestly don't have any regrets, but that time of littles is just so special. Those tiny matching leggings and tights, dinosaur t-shirts-hey!
Dominic wore a T-Rex shirt today! "T-Rex doesn't like high fives". That counts, right?
This time is such a delicate balance, ages 11 and 13. Respecting boundaries, giving snuggles, knowing when friends are on Skype or FaceTime so you don't sing at full volume because now you are suddenly so embarrassing!
I remember this time, not a kid, not a full-blown 'young adult'. I walked ten steps behind my mom, hid under the dashboard in the car when my step-dad went to K-Mart because I was way too cool to be there. I remember one time my dad and I were at a movie theater and a boy that I thought was really cute came in with a girl from my class. I think I was all of about 13. I happened to be doing a blood pressure thing in the lobby when I saw them. My dad was ready to take me to the hospital before I explained why I was in the red.
I really, really try to remember and respect how my kids are coming into their own. I bite my tongue before I tell them to bring a water bottle. I don't listen in on their phone conversations.
I love the children that they were and the people that they are becoming. They are such good friends to each other and their peeps. They have deeply kind hearts. They think of others before themselves. I am enjoying this wild ride, from Starbucks, before the next drop-off.