I still don’t have access to Em-i-lis on any computer so remain stuck typing on my phone. It’s extremely annoying, but alas. At least I know where my children are, and I know they’re safe and well cared for.
Our trip to Maine to move them into camp couldn’t have been lovelier. We flew to Portland, ate a lobster roll (they had chicken fingers, y’all. Sigh.), and drove to Belgrade where we checked into a darling inn, met another camper Ol’s age, took a dip in the lake, ate a truly delicious meal, lit sparklers, and tried to get the kids and their unbridled enthusiasm to bed.
lobster rolls and clam chowder at Miller Bros seafood
Camp is on a small island, and the first boat from shore wasn’t leaving until 1p. Up early, we did everything possible to pass the time, as the kids were champing at the bit to “get there.” I started to wonder if their glee would wane at all- would goodbyes actually be not so bad?
After pastries, chess, coffee, a quick visit to Colby College, a walk through Waterville (home of Colby), lunch, and a practice drive to the dock, we returned to the dock 45 minutes early.
It was a perfect, glorious day. The boys ran around with the friend they’d made the evening before. They met some new kids and dipped their toes in the water. Finally, it was our turn.
The camp sits in an idyllic, bucolic place. Everything feels crisp and clean and pure. There is no cell reception. Indeed the only electricity is in the dining hall’s kitchen. Open-sided, raised tents and hammocks dot the land. The gathering hall/library/game room is the stuff of dreams. Hogwarts meets summer camp.
We made the boys’ beds, toured camp, met other families, and started to feel a touch nervous. I don’t know that either J or O had really thought about what it actually means to not see or talk to us for six weeks. I had, which had resulted in not a few tears over the week leading up to the adventure. But thus are the lovely truths of both childhood and adulthood, and ultimately we met in the middle and cried it all out.
Forcing ourselves to gently break our embraces and kiss the boys and encourage them to go exploring with two of the outstanding counselors we met was almost painful. The boat ride back to the mainland was somber, and I waved until the boys were but specks on the horizon.
Later, via the Facebook parent page for camp, I heard from the mom of one of Ol’s tentmates that when she moved her son in, Ol seemed happy and excited. That did my and Tom’s hearts so good.
We both have a great feeling about this summer, about the ways the boys will grow and become more independent, and also the ways we will.
The 18 hours T and I spent in Portland after leaving Belgrade was a great start. I plan to share that soon- the food is off the charts delish.
Keep your fingers crossed we get a letter soon!