Camp

Happiness is the absence of fever. ~ Proust

Never has this been more true! Yesterday was one of those "milestone moments"....taking 10-yr-old Daughter to camp for the first time. She will be gone until I pick her up on Friday. It's only Monday and it already seems so different around here without her. The oddest part is not being able to know what she is "up to". When she is spending the night with a friend, I can ALWAYS get in touch. I am proud of myself because I have not cried about it...yet. I thought I would cry when I left, but Clementine and I (her daughter is also there) knew we were both "women on the edge" and joked enough on the walk to the car so that the tears wouldn't come. I DID come close when my sister-in-law dropped by this morning and I was telling her about our drama-filled adventure. Around here nothing can be done without some level of mishap or drama. We arrived CLOSE to our destination quite early enough and tried to find the camp PRIOR to eating, but never quite found it before hunger took over. We stopped at Wendy's to shove enough food into the girls to last for a week....they would have starved by Friday had they not had the Frosty. On a total side note, the snail-like pace of this Wendy's had me appreciating the Wendy's Nazi in Nags Head. The guy always stresses me out with his constant solicitation of orders, being so bold as to come out from behind the counter with a notepad in hand to get orders quickly! I feel like I never have the time to peruse the menu before being harassed into ordering. The Williamsburg operation, complete with its non-English-speaking counter attendants, made me yearn for the Nazi. After gorging on the fine assortment of artery clogging delicacies, we began our search for the camp AGAIN. Finally we stopped at a gas station. The Subway woman (yes, this was a Mobil/Subway) helped get us on the right path, but still missing some obscure turn. We then turned to the only other living soul we saw...a guy (who had the same body type as Mike Wozowski on Monsters, Inc. except that he wasn't a giant eyeball - more like round with skinny arms and legs) on a riding lawn mower. He was kind enough to turn off the machine and come directly to the car (did I mention the embarrassment we were inflicting on the 10 yr. olds in the back seat?). He got us exactly where we needed to be (the true test will be getting back there on Friday - I am not at all good with directions). The camp is beautiful...lots of lush greenery and very clean. We were all excited when we pulled in and saw the enormous pool and the other campers. We parked and headed toward the main building to get the girls registered. Even though I had anally checked and rechecked to make sure I had all the forms in my book bag, I could not find the pink and blue forms (the blue one having just been signed in the car by Daughter, stating that she would behave - fingers crossed on that one TEE HEE!). So, I literally sprinted back to the car to collect my papers. However, they were NOT still in the car. In a panic I sprinted BACK to the building only to discover that they were UNDER my purse in the book bag the entire time. We were then told that the girls would be in the Pocahontas unit and sent to the appropriate table. [They must have sensed the inappropriate jokes I would have made if they had been placed in Beaverwoods.] There we met Itsy Bitsy (yes, all these people have cutesy little nicknames...I could really get the giggles over it if I thought about it too long). She told the girls that the other counselors in their unit would meet them after we actually got to the unit. The one girl's "name" was Beans (she's from England) and the other girl's name is Thistle (she's from Scotland). I can't wait to hear Daughter and Savvy try to imitate the accents at the end of the week. With my sick mind, all I could think about was the movie Something About Mary when Ben Stiller gets his beans and frank stuck in the zipper and Cameron Diaz's step-father is asking how the beans got above the frank. After creating the luggage tags and name tags, it was on to the lice check and temperature taking. That's where our adventure turned from merry to panic. Daughter registered a temp. of 100.6. They do not accept campers with temps. of 101 or higher. Daughter did not feel ill....that was obvious by the snarfing of the Frosty, the donut, the nuggets, etc. as well as the goofy antics that had taken place on the 4 hour ride. No sore throat. No sniffles. No cough. She had complained of a queasy stomach when we left home, but she compared it to how her stomach feels when she goes to the dentist: NERVES! Understandably, the mood changed. She did not want to leave. She did not want to leave Savvy. She KNEW they were going to send her home. Clementine and Savvy were in another "nurse line" because they had allergy meds to turn in. In the other line, Clementine heard, "Don't make me stay if 'she' can't stay." Yes, I was feeling the stress myself. I consulted the little camp info packet hoping that some new "fever clause" would magically appear. Finally, it was our turn...what would the judgment be? We dealt with a woman who was not the nurse (nor did she live up to her "camp name" of Tiny). Upon hearing about the fever (I felt the need to explain why my child had the most miserable look on her face: the prospect of not being allowed to stay - I didn't want them to think she was just plain miserable for NO reason), she went to get Tinkerbell (no, her name did not fit her either), the real nurse. She got the same reading, but assured Daughter she could stay. She wanted me to make her get something to drink and finish out the check-in procedure before a temp. recheck. Tinkerbell felt she was overheated. No, I did not share the fact that we had NOT been outside. If she was still "hot" after all that, she would give her an over-the-counter fever reducer. Did I mention how bizarre it was to seriously discuss a health matter with a woman I had to call Tinkerbell? We proceeded to the Trading Post to put money on her account and buy mosquito netting. She's such a girl....she chilled out during the shopping part, eyeing jewelry and other "girlie junk". Then it was time to go back to Tinkerbell. Whew! The temp. had dropped to 99.1....no meds needed and we were free to go to the unit! YAY! Honestly, I had remained stressed until that very moment. We grabbed the "rickshaw-like" cart and headed to the car to load up all the gear. Neither Clementine nor I could resist the urge to make non-politically correct sound effects while pulling on this cart. Sorry. Everyone we spoke to made it sound like Pocahontas was so distant that we would be walking back to NC to get there. Not the case. Though not the closest unit, it was NOT an unbearable trek...thanks to that cart. When we arrived at the unit we were met with some very excited little girls eager to have Daughter and Savvy bunk with them since there were two cots left in their tent. Clementine and I astounded ourselves with our mosquito netting assembly skills. Amazingly we were able to accomplish the assembly while 6 chatterboxes rambled on and on and on and on. I don't know why I even bothered to speak to Daughter once all that started....I felt that I HAD to show her where everything was AGAIN! She was in her element and could care less about where her towels were or where I put any of her stuff....just as it should be, I suppose. She'll find what she needs and, if not, she'll make do or solve the problem herself or with the help of her new friends. We took pictures and video and finally broke away. Is it any surprise that Clementine and I were the last two mom's in the unit? We had a super ride home...making up new verses to the Diarrhea Song even without the presence of any children. Sadly, the ones drawing the most laughter were the ones that involved the "names" of the counselors. We'll save them for the ride home on Friday. We indulged ourselves with Starbucks and some quick shopping at Target and Old Navy. We deserved it after all that mosquito net assembly! In addition to the mail I left at camp to be delivered, I have also written a one-way email that will be printed and delivered to her. Every time the phone rings I worry about the return of the fever and a request to pick her up. As much as I want her with me I know she is going to have the best time and needs to be where she is. YAY....still no tears. :0)