Sam isn’t at summer camp, exactly. He’s at a UMass summer program for college readiness. He’s struggling, and I’m struggling.
There’s this mind-set of pep talking him, of being the mom in charge, of handling it, and I slipped back into that so fast. Relentless positivity, validation and breezing past the fear, focusing on the positive. And in the back of my mind, the whole time, this on-going prayer that we can do this.
He wants to do this. He really, really wants to do this. He’s also terrified and sick and throwing up and at least 49% of me wants to go scoop him up and bring him home and have him be safe. But all of me wants him to succeed. To know that he can do this. And there’s so very little I can do to make that happen.
All I can do is this. Sit at home, crafting pep talks and sounding like I’m filled with confidence and love. Send emails to directors and other staff, trying to manage his needs from half a state away.
In the end, it’s going to be Sam. If not now, than eventually. I know that. He knows that. Was two weeks too much to start? Is it unreasonable to think that a kid who has NEVER done more than a night away at a time (and even that was so incredibly rare) could suddenly go away for 13 nights? But then again… I mean, he has to at some point, right?
And this is such a good environment. He’s got so many people there, cheering him on and trying to make it okay for him. I want this to work so badly.
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