After their last week of summer camp, the boys were pretty much dog tired, so we had a very low key weekend. Last Thursday the boys put on a show to celebrate the end of summer camp. It included some song and dance and also awards for the campers. Oliver took home the “Future Pro” award, which has something to do with being really good at sports (he also took home second place in archery and the “Golden Arrow” award, which is just that, a golden arrow, happily hanging on Oliver’s wall of course) and Milo took home the “Competitor” award, which is no surprise to any of us. First born. You know.
It’s pretty fantastic to hear other people saying nice things about your kids, and also to hear about the friends they had made during camp. I’m willing to bet they’ll be begging to go again next summer, even though they are looking like homebodies for the next two weeks. I’m so happy to have them to myself before school starts up again. They are growing at an incredible rate and eating more than ever! Milo lost two teeth in two days and I swear grew two inches to boot.
We’re all missing Andrew, halfway through this last long trip of the summer, but this last jaunt has been particularly harrowing for me. Not because of the boys; they’ve been awesome and hilarious. It’s been a lonely summer for me and though I don’t want to whine or complain or sound spoiled, I’ve missed a lot of people this summer. Some have moved away, some have had huge life changes, others have been gone all summer long… it’s been a reflective time for me, but also a sad one. Sadness and reflection often come at the end of every season, that or an undeniable inertia or thirst for big change. I suppose that’s what is happening, but without my people to discuss it all with, I’ve been more in my head than usual. It will pass, or something will change, we’ll just have to see! I am so lucky though, really. I finally got my Ingrid back when she returned from a very long summer away, and she and Brent made such a fuss over us this weekend that I’m already starting to feel the love and community that I’ve missed so much. It’s hard to feel dependent on others for that feeling — it makes me feel completely vulnerable and not at all stoic and strong and unflappable like I’d like to be. But I need people. I need friends and a partner and my family and all of it. St. Louis, as great as it is, just can’t compare without my people here with me. Milo feels the same way. We need you, all of you: family, friends, far-flung once-neighbors. We need you and your amazing insights and jokes, your empathy and your wily tricks. We need your laughter and your stories, your tears and reminders of all the good things in life. We need all of it! I miss you!