It's that time of year again. The sun (or complete lack thereof), the hiking, swimming in the lake, the complete lack of parental supervision, the posing for pictures while flashing ridiculous-looking peace signs (in every single freaking picture even though your mother BEGGED you to resist the urge) or somehow managing to hide every time someone with a camera is near so that there's little to no evidence of your existence, the shabbat services in a pretty dress and muddy sneakers (because they won't let you wear your shower flip-flops and that's your only other option).
My homegoys (tm) may read that and scratch their head, but it is, in fact, Jewish overnight camp time.
Generations of Jewish mothers have sent their children away to Jewish-themed camps every summer only to sit back and
Our move worked out just in time for the big two to head to camp for the first time. So, this past Sunday, at an insane hour of the morning, we herded the goat rodeo to the synagogue parking lot where a huge bus picked up our teeny tiny girls and started off on its journey, SIX HOURS away from us.
We greeted friends, we took pictures, we loaded bags crammed full (of some things we'll probably never see again), we kissed them, hugged them, and the huge bus pulled away. I immediately turned to my husband and asked, "What did we just do?"
Funny thing is, I remember asking that exact same question when we dropped our 3-year-old twins off at Sunday school for the first time. Granted, Sunday school wasn't SIX HOURS away (yes, I must type that in all caps every time I write it. It's required).
I'm left to ask, how the hell am I going to send them to college*?
**I tried and tried and tried to concoct a witty title for this entry. This one is the best portrayal of my actual thoughts and feelings on the topic.