SOL: Missing T

Even before T arrived for her week’s stay with me, I could see what a life-changer she was going to be. As I ran around in a frenzy trying to get ready for her, I saw all the things I didn’t know about having a child around, all the things I felt foolish asking, but which I had to ask because how would I figure them out on my own? When did she go to bed, how should I do her hair, what did she eat, did she have any allergies, was she a light sleeper, was she afraid of the dark … ? Too many questions!

And then she was here and everything worked out fine — no disasters, no bloodshed, no debilitating homesickness. We had an excellent if quick week of Rock Camp and T’s already planning to come back. “The band has decided to stay together after camp,” she told me the second day. Oh, really? And how does that work when she lives out of town? “I’ll just come and stay with you on the weekend when we’re going to practice.” Right. Obviously. But maybe not as far fetched as all that. On the parent/guardian camp evaluation there’s a line where you can indicate if you’d like to stay in touch with other parents or campers, and one of the moms told me that the camp has an instrument loaner program, so …

This morning I was up early and — wonder of wonders — fixing myself lunch and generally continuing the shockingly good habits I started when T was here … and I had a little moment of sadness over how quickly last week passed. I had so much fun having T stay with me, playing ridiculous games with her, listening to her go on about whatever was her subject of the moment, watching her interact with other kids, seeing all the ways she is still such a little kid even though she’s so grown.

I’m missing her. Of course. She was a major disruption of my day-to-day … and I really want to be disrupted some more.


7 thoughts on “SOL: Missing T

  1. My son has been away with my parents for just over a week . . . he comes home tomorrow and I am gleeful at getting him back. These experiences away from their parents but in safe, trusted environments are so, so good for them. My daughter, on the other hand, is dreading the end of her only child status. 🙂


  2. I have my nephew this week. I had my nieces for a few days. The only way to build relationships is to spend time. Isn’t it awesome to have children in our lives for a little while? Thank you for reminding me.


  3. I was also anxious at the idea of our just graduated daughter coming home to live but now she is talking of finding an apartment and I am knowing that she will be missed. They easily become part of our routines.


  4. foxrafer

    I know something you can do with your free time over the weekend. Watch Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog with Neal Patrick Harris and Nathan Fillion ( And yes I know I could have e-mailed it but what the heck.

    It’s only up through Sunday I believe and the third part will be posted tomorrow. I’ve watched episode one so far and it’s absolutely wonderful.


  5. 9-year-olds are so much fun. They’re just independent enough to be able to do so much for themselves. It’s also interesting to see how their minds are developing and the concepts they’re beginning to be able to process. I’m glad your week with T___ was such a positive experience. I bet her parents are glad to get her back, though! My Scout is going to spend five nights with my mom next month and I’m dreading it. I’m sure Lil’bug will miss her big ‘brudder’… and I will, too! He’s never been away that long.


  6. foxrafer

    I e-mailed this to you but just in case you’re looking here first. Dr. Horrible starts really really funny but ends really serious; still good just not funny. So be warned if you decide to watch.


  7. Oh, yeah! Talk about what we think we don’t know. I found out they might not think we know some important things as well. E.g. My five year old grand niece as well as the 10 year old asked me on two separate occasions “Pappy, do you know how to put my hair in a pony tail?”

    Now, c’mon! Do I look that clueless? Answer: Apparently, yes. I loved reading this post.


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