Tomorrow morning I’ll be up early. I’m not a morning person at the best of times; the earlier it is, the less I enjoy it. I thought that maybe with parenthood, especially with a child who hates sleep that I would get used to being up at stupid o’clock, but it’s never grown on me.
Regardless, sometimes it’s unavoidable. And tomorrow is one of those days.
It’s the first day of a week of travelling for work; my last big hurrah before I finish up in June. It’s a project I’ve been working on for months, and I’m excited to work with an amazing team. Not so much about the early morning start, but still. The rest of it should balance that heinous event.
But me being away for almost the whole week poses some logistical nightmares. School drop offs, pick ups, gymnastics training, dinners, puppies and bunnies, you know, all the normal chaos that is our house, is best managed with two people. Take one adult out and the danger level increases ten-fold.
Add Poss’ second ever school camp into the mix, which she leaves for on Wednesday morning, and I’m sure that Husband is going to require some sort of special stunt training.
To make it as easy as possible, we’ve done lots of prepping; Poss’ camp suitcase is already packed and is waiting in the hallway, her lunchbox is in the fridge and gymnastics gear tucked into her bag.
Schedules have been printed, social stories have been crafted and we’re trying desperately to remember what it was we did last year that made camp work for her, so we can try and replicate it.
She’s got a bus buddy picked, has nominated her cabin mates and her teachers are super prepared; I know their kindness will go a long way to make sure that she’s fine. Of course she will be fine. Of course she will be.
It’s going to be the longest we’ve been apart, four nights at the opposite ends of the state. I know it’s silly to be even thinking about that. She’s 10. I’m significantly older. And I’m off on an adventure. So is she.
We’ll both be fine.
If I survive the early morning starts.
Are you a morning person?