This summer my girls are going to camp in Brewster, MA for three weeks. From day one, my seven year old, who needs constant entertainment, skipped on to the bus without looking back. My five year old, well, she would rather go to the dentist with me if she had the option. The last two mornings, she shuffled onto the bus, a little hesitant, but willingly and waved goodbye. Yesterday when she woke up she decided she simply didn't want to go anymore. As we got ready to leave the house I hugged her and said I understood while trying to come up with a creative way to explain that she didn't have a choice. When we approached the bus stop, the tears quickly started rolling down her cheeks and she continued to remind me that she STILL didn't want to go. When the bus arrived, I gently lead her up the stairs as all the other parents stood by watching and waiting patiently for us to finish our conversation which was going nowhere. She finally got on, but she wasn't happy about it. Both of us were sad and angry in our own ways. It was not a shining moment for either of us. From there I went running. It was hot and humid, my legs were tired and my ribs were still sore. But the stress rolled off me with each step. The heat helped me forget about my frustration and the music helped to drown out my worrying. It was not a great run. But it was a great run.
Listen to this:
I'll Believe In Anything - Wolf Parade