Here it is, the last day of my vacation. Pooey! What will I do with it? Sweep the dusty toe prints off the corner of the stairs? Perhaps.
I have done a lot of reflecting on the past weekend. Do you remember? 28 kids, 4 adults, lake side overnight party? Interesting would be a good starting word. But I digress.
Most of the time, I feel like a good parent. Then life kicks you upside the head and reminds you, that NO, you are really winging it.
The arrival on Saturday of all the guests, brought on lots and lots of swimming. Both of my kids love swimming, but this story is about Bethany. So, imagine Derek, happy and healthy, independent of us. Good. So, 27 kids get to swim. And swim and swim. One girl cannot swim due to her missing skin from an altercation with an alpine slide a couple of days before. Besides the intense pain she still feels, Nurse Joe warned her about germy places that would invade her body freely. So, Bethany sat out. All day. With her mother. See? There is the problem right there. Sure, the kids were great to her. They would come over every now and then and say HI and DID YOU SEE THAT? As the hours ticked by, our Miss Beth started feeling left out. As an adult, we can logically say that she wasn't left out. This has nothing to do with logic, as I later learned. Feelings are not logical. Ever. Later in the afternoon, the crowd got ready for dinner. When I arrived at my car to drive over to the Pizza Barn, there was Miss Beth, sobbing in the back seat. Feeling sorry for herself that she missed all the water fun. The fun she likes best in the world. We talk for a couple of minutes, hug. And I think the world has yet again tipped upright. No. The sobbing gets worse on the way over, along with some sprinklings of "I hate myself". Oh boy, things are heading downhill FAST.
Let's pause here in the story for a little side story. What do you think I did at this point? Pep talk? Good advice? Remind her of why she should not hate herself, why she is a good person? You'd think, wouldn't you? I burst into tears. Looking back, I still have no rhyme or reason for this reaction. So, now poor poor Andy is driving along with 2 crying females and he is pretty much praying for a trailor truck to hit the car and kill us all, especially him right at that moment. His driving skills are too good for that, we arrive at the pizza barn, where 27 kids and 2 adults get out and enter the eatery. 2 adults and 1 teen stay in the car. And all I could say to Andy was "I don't know what to do!" And I didn't! Fast forward about 20 minutes, I head in to join the crowd, sporting a new look. Red and blotchy face hardly works for anyone. Gail and I spread the word that Bethany does not feel good. Which is not far from a lie. Andy and Beth take a walk through the woods and the good lord intervened. He threw this little guy in their path.

It's okay, Mr. Racoon, you can go back to sleep now!
At this point, the tears were wiped away, hugs were given, and they both entered the establishment, ready to pack away some serious pizza.
My stomach and mind remain in a knot and I'll be damned if I can understand teens. Or even myself. The evening ended on a happy note for all and we were able to come home with a couple of shreds of dignity left. But I am left wondering.....What the??!! If I live to be 110, I'll never understand myself and my reactions to the world around me. And that world is spinning so fast away from me.
So, I knit. My constancy.

Freundin socken finished! ("friend sock" in german, I hope! )

And one more vision of what Miss B. was missing.

How many kids can fit on a floating dock?
Many, many kids, but the dock doesn't want to float anymore.
I'm glad I'm home.