Just My 19th Nervous Breakdown
Hola, Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome to summer vacation. As much as I thought we'd be settled in to a nice, relaxed rhythm by now that is definitely not the case. And why, you ask?
Because I'm a helicopter mom, that's why.
I know, all of you that have tracked the evolution of the Wild Boys and their injuries are thinking I'm not a very good helicopter mom, right? Well I'll square with you. It was never my intention to helicopter at all. But once they started stacking deck chairs to form diving platforms for their wading pool I realized that if I didn't hover obsessively they would die. So it wasn't necessarily me wanting to live their lives vicariously, it was more just wanting them to live. It's worked out pretty well so far, because between the cop and I we have paranoia to spare so I can anticipate and usually head off anything that banshee shrieks "danger" well in advance. But this week brought the moment I was in no way prepared for - Gavin backpacking with the scouts.
Let me spell this out for you. Eight boys who have never backpacked before, hiking at high altitude into a lake with no facilities whatsoever, two troop leaders (one of whom is undoubtedly in better shape than me but looks about 90), no cell signal, and below freezing temperatures at night. The hike in is about 2.5 miles, but involved walking across fallen logs to cross streams, and climbing granite to reach the lake, all while wearing backpacks to carry all their necessities weighing between 50 and 60 pounds. My kid has been to the ER three times since Christmas - how on EARTH am I not supposed to panic about this?
Several nights before the hike I started mentally reviewing all the things that could possibly go wrong. He could fall. He could get lost. He could freeze. He could drown. Gradually the acid in my stomach built to levels that could have caused the acid rain so feared in the 80's were I to explode, which was seeming like an increasing possibility. Two days before they left I woke the cop after midnight by standing creepily by his side of the bed listening to a bear devour our neighbors garbage, and when he looked at me all I could say was "BEARS! I FORGOT ABOUT BEARS! WHAT IF HE GETS EATEN BY A BEAR?"
The night before Gavin left the cop and I worked with him to pack his gear. After I formed a pile almost as tall as Gavin himself of first aid equipment, sunscreen, inhalers, thermal underwear and what was described as "an excessive amount of toiletries" I was relieved of my helping position by the cop, who kept murmuring things about "cutting the cord" and rolling his eyes at me. See, the cop once did a 50 mile backpack trip with his scout troop. It made him tough. I had to get tough by living in an apartment complex filled with Crips in the heart of Stockton. We bring different gifts to this parenting gig, and I am perhaps a little more of a worrier.
Gavin left, and although I wanted to eat ALL THE THINGS in panic mode I instead resorted to just consuming massive amounts of coffee and twitching nervously. All I really had to do was make it through one night, because the cop was hiking in to relieve one of the scout leaders on day two. So by the morning of day two I should have been ok. Should have been. But what if the cop got mauled by a bear trying to protect Gavin, who fell into the lake trying to escape and drowned? It made me a little distracted, which became evident after I attempted to grocery shop with Gabriel and somehow ended up with a cart that could have been packed by a frat house shopping on 4/20. We have a LOT of pop tarts up in this house right now. Not sure how I missed that. It could perhaps be related to the fact that I hadn't really slept in days, and was sweating actual coffee at that point.
And when all was said and done?
He nailed it. Not only did he survive the sub-freezing temperatures and wind storms, he went swimming in it. Last time we did this hike as a family Gavin not only drank all of his water on the way in, he subsequently drank all of mine on the way back AND made me carry both water containers...And yet when surrounded by a group of like aged boys he apparently becomes superhuman. Little punk.
Everyone is home now, and less stinky now that showering has happened. Will this stop my helicopter mom worrying? No. Will it stop me from giving up my water on our next hike? Hells yeah it will.
Until next time, happy helicoptering.
Because I'm a helicopter mom, that's why.
I know, all of you that have tracked the evolution of the Wild Boys and their injuries are thinking I'm not a very good helicopter mom, right? Well I'll square with you. It was never my intention to helicopter at all. But once they started stacking deck chairs to form diving platforms for their wading pool I realized that if I didn't hover obsessively they would die. So it wasn't necessarily me wanting to live their lives vicariously, it was more just wanting them to live. It's worked out pretty well so far, because between the cop and I we have paranoia to spare so I can anticipate and usually head off anything that banshee shrieks "danger" well in advance. But this week brought the moment I was in no way prepared for - Gavin backpacking with the scouts.
Let me spell this out for you. Eight boys who have never backpacked before, hiking at high altitude into a lake with no facilities whatsoever, two troop leaders (one of whom is undoubtedly in better shape than me but looks about 90), no cell signal, and below freezing temperatures at night. The hike in is about 2.5 miles, but involved walking across fallen logs to cross streams, and climbing granite to reach the lake, all while wearing backpacks to carry all their necessities weighing between 50 and 60 pounds. My kid has been to the ER three times since Christmas - how on EARTH am I not supposed to panic about this?
Several nights before the hike I started mentally reviewing all the things that could possibly go wrong. He could fall. He could get lost. He could freeze. He could drown. Gradually the acid in my stomach built to levels that could have caused the acid rain so feared in the 80's were I to explode, which was seeming like an increasing possibility. Two days before they left I woke the cop after midnight by standing creepily by his side of the bed listening to a bear devour our neighbors garbage, and when he looked at me all I could say was "BEARS! I FORGOT ABOUT BEARS! WHAT IF HE GETS EATEN BY A BEAR?"
The night before Gavin left the cop and I worked with him to pack his gear. After I formed a pile almost as tall as Gavin himself of first aid equipment, sunscreen, inhalers, thermal underwear and what was described as "an excessive amount of toiletries" I was relieved of my helping position by the cop, who kept murmuring things about "cutting the cord" and rolling his eyes at me. See, the cop once did a 50 mile backpack trip with his scout troop. It made him tough. I had to get tough by living in an apartment complex filled with Crips in the heart of Stockton. We bring different gifts to this parenting gig, and I am perhaps a little more of a worrier.
Gavin left, and although I wanted to eat ALL THE THINGS in panic mode I instead resorted to just consuming massive amounts of coffee and twitching nervously. All I really had to do was make it through one night, because the cop was hiking in to relieve one of the scout leaders on day two. So by the morning of day two I should have been ok. Should have been. But what if the cop got mauled by a bear trying to protect Gavin, who fell into the lake trying to escape and drowned? It made me a little distracted, which became evident after I attempted to grocery shop with Gabriel and somehow ended up with a cart that could have been packed by a frat house shopping on 4/20. We have a LOT of pop tarts up in this house right now. Not sure how I missed that. It could perhaps be related to the fact that I hadn't really slept in days, and was sweating actual coffee at that point.
And when all was said and done?
He nailed it. Not only did he survive the sub-freezing temperatures and wind storms, he went swimming in it. Last time we did this hike as a family Gavin not only drank all of his water on the way in, he subsequently drank all of mine on the way back AND made me carry both water containers...And yet when surrounded by a group of like aged boys he apparently becomes superhuman. Little punk.
Everyone is home now, and less stinky now that showering has happened. Will this stop my helicopter mom worrying? No. Will it stop me from giving up my water on our next hike? Hells yeah it will.
Until next time, happy helicoptering.
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