Last night I had a dream that all of these therapists were giving me books on why SEX is the most important thing in LIFE.

Then, magically, the last therapist morphed into a very attractive man….

and then I woke up.

I wonder what that dream means?

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Day 1 of Camp was a no go.
S started sniffling and sneezing the night before so he just stayed home with me and we were snugly and relaxed in the air conditioning. And I was glad not to go to camp.

I don’t talk about my worries much because I just get the dreaded “He’ll be fine.” Like there’s something wrong with me that I don’t know this.
Telling me “he will be fine” makes me want to scream my head off. “Don’t  worry” and “relax” do that too.

Don’t say it. It’s not reassuring. It’s condescending.

Drives me nuts.

Day 2
The cold is better – not send to school better but yes day 2 of very expensive, super fantastic camp better.

In the car he asked me if I’d stay. I said I would. (cheering inside)
When I taught kids drama classes I wanted parents to leave. I knew the kids would be ok- even better- without parents around.
Fuck that.
This is my child and I want to watch him and he wants me there. I want to watch him discover things, make friends and get dirty. I like watching his little twig legs leap around covered by a much too big size small shirt. I adore watching him do ninja moves for no reason or sneak around or spin or jump. I just love to observe him. I love to hear his little voice announce to the class “I don’t have a tree at my house” or watch him collect sticks as the other kids just walk.

At camp I met the lovely counselors, already engaged in song. After introductions I sat down at a bench near by.

As I watched S having fun, I felt happy. There was no where else I needed or wanted to be.
He’d wave to me or come over to me to share “Matthew is here” or “did you see that?”

I was painfully aware of the counselors watching me. Were they judging me?
Each time S came over I’d smile and respond and then say “stay at your camp with your group. Stay with your counselors.”  Trying to make it clear that I am trying so hard to leave…. Ha! I’m a farce.
Then it was time for the campers to take a hike – m biggest fear was my 4 year old straying from the group on a hike in a huge park. With pervs and snakes and cliffs and broken bottles. Oh yes, I can imagine endless treacheries. Maybe I need to write some horrific fiction to exercise my mind demons.

As the kids left for the hike, S motioned for me to follow.
See, it’s not my fault I’m hovering – S needs me. He is not okay without me.
I followed close behind and S kept motioning for me to come closer. I’d shake my head and mouth “I’m good here. You have fun.”
My inner monologue was my defense as I imagined the counselors were whispering about me:
Well, he just needs to know I’m close by. I’d leave but he’d cry.  Believe me, I used to teach, I know it’s better if I leave.
Then it became: It’s my kid and my life. If I want to watch him on a hike with 25 other kids I can. I’m paying a lot of money for this. I can watch. Hey it’s a free park – you going to arrest me for hanging out near my own kid?
Why am I the only mom hanging out?
What happened to “its a parents job to worry,” or “you can never be too careful,” or “better safe than sorry.”

I sat on a bench, as he went to the bathroom with the group and a counselors or two. He beckoned for me to join him.
“No no,” I said. “I’m just watching.” He reluctantly went ahead.
What were the bathrooms like? Gross? Who was helping him? Were park pervs around?  He disappeared out of my sight.
I waited. I tried to see his little frame down the trail. In a few minutes I saw some tiny feet and mop of red hair walking towards me. Alone. Not with the group. Not with a counselor. No. No. That’s not good.
He ran towards me.
“You can’t leave the counselors! You can’t leave the campers!”
“But ma…”
“No honey. They might think you are lost. We have to go back to them.”
I took his hand to take him back to the bathroom.
“Evie!” The camp director saw me.
I told her how S got away from the pack – unnoticed by the counselors.
She walked S back to the bathroom to join the group.

She’s going to tell me to leave. She’s going to tell me that the whole reason he left the group was to see me.  It’s true. But I need to watch. I want to stay.
S joined his deserted group then the camp leader came back to me.
“I’m so sorry,” she said to me. She seemed horrified. “That’s never happened before- where a camper got away from the group.”
She didn’t blame me. She didn’t shame me for distracting my son.
And yeah, it wasn’t trust building that my child escaped the gazes of the counselors and walked all the way back unnoticed. And it doesn’t really matter that it was because I was sitting there. It’s just the fact that it happened.*
*Like the time security at the Burbank airport didn’t catch the butterfly knife I had in my purse as it went through the metal detector (yes it was pre 911). The point was not why I had a deadly weapon in my purse (that’s a whole long other story) but the fact that it wasn’t detected.
When Spense came back with his group he walked over to us – still unaware that there was a problem.
“Sweetheart,” I began, “Do you understand that you need to stay with the counselors?”
“Or else we might think you got lost, ” she added.
Then I heard myself say “I think I should go across the street to those benches. So I don’t distract you.” No. No! Why was I doing this! Can I take it back? Panic.
“Which benches?” He asked, looking in the direction I pointed.
“Just over there. I think you are just having a hard time remembering to stay with the group so I should go.”
The counselor jumped in, “Is it OK if mommy goes? She will just be over there?”
He nodded, reluctantly. Then we hugged. He cried a little on my shoulder. I cried a little in my heart.
“Ok,” he whispered so bravely.
Crap! Now I’d done it. I guess it was the right thing to do. I walked away spying some benches a little closer to the ones I’d promised to go to, yet still too far for him to see me and run to me. There I’d stay.

I sat behind some trees and behind a play structure. I couldn’t see him specifically, just a sea of bodies and bright orange tee shirts. Oh yeah, and the other redhead kid. I kept seeing the other redhead.  I trusted that after my kid got away from the counselors they will keep an extra sharp eye on him.
Can’t wait for it to be over.

And then, we do it all again tomorrow

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I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately. I think it’s because I signed Spense up for Summer Camp.

Of course, it’s supposed to be a great camp – I’ve been hearing wonderful things about it for a year now. It sold out quickly and I felt lucky to get in…

But now, just hours away from taking my precious 4 year old to a park for a 5 hour day with people I don’t know I’m wondering… why did I sign him up for this???

He’d going to want me to stay close by and I want to stay close. The thought of leaving him alone right now it making me so nervous. He’s 4!

Why did I sign up?

Will he even like it?

I just thought he should be exposed to some outdoorsy play. Sing some songs. learn some games….

They will let me stay, right? I mean, it’s a park. Anyone can hang out there. I will just stay.

He was sniffling before bed. Maybe he will have a cold tomorrow. Is it bad to hope he has a cold tomorrow???

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At bedtime, my 4 year old boy said to me, “Mom, when you snuggle me, I feel like a man.”

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Watching Night at The Museum.

S: Ma, I like that guy with the white hair.

Me: That’s Dick Van Dyke, he’s a great actor! You have such good taste.

S: Did you go to college with him?

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When we drive I’m always horrified at the inappropriate content on billboards.  Spense has boasted he’s not scared of anything. Until today…

Once, we saw this billboard:


S: Ma, look at that cool billboard.

Me: That’s really scary. Does it scare you?

S: No, not at all. I like it.

Another time, we saw this billboard:


S: Ma, look at that clown!

Me: That’s a scary clown.

S: No it isn’t! It doesn’t look scary to me.

Me: Really? I think it’s SO scary!

S: Not to me!

Then today, we saw this…


S: Ma! Oh my god! Look at that scary man or woman! Look! Do you see it??

Me: You mean the one with the ice cream?

S: Yes! It’s so scary!

Me: It’s supposed to be funny! She has ice cream on her face. She’s like the messy kids (he has a thing about the messy kids.)

S: It’s not funny! It looks like pink blood!

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I’d like to introduce you to mommy humorist, Johanna Stein.

Her book is called “How Not To Calm A Child On A Plane” and it’s hilarious! I highly recommend it!

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Hello dear lovely readers!!

I have a question for you….

Can you think of a post I’ve written that you loved? Something that made you say “I want to follow Evie!” or “This lady is funny!”?

I’m trying to pick a few of my best posts to submit elsewhere.

Please leave your comments below and THANK YOU!!!!!!




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This article was in Cosmo.

Thanks to a new friend/potential Mom Solo for bringing it to my attention!

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As I went to get dressed today, Spense said to me, “Remember, When you get dressed, I like when you wear lipstick and fancy shoes – and with your shirt, you can surprise me.”

I’ve broken up with boyfriends for less than that.

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