It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged about anything but my books, and for that, I apologize. But I’m back with another post about one of my favourite people in the world, my daughter!
On Monday, I took my oldest baby to one of our local community centres and put her on a bus to go to her first week of residential camp.
All of a sudden, it hit me. She’s not my baby any more. Not even close.
I should have noticed the fact that she’d started growing up sooner. I mean, this is a girl who decided she wanted to be a vulcanologist when she was four years old.
Yes, I said vulcanologist. Don’t know what that is? Neither did I until she enlightened me. A volcano expert.
She’s also decided that she wants to be an author, just like mommy. Of course, I haven’t told her what I write yet.
But back to camp.
She has been asking for years to go to summer camp. So this past January, she finally sweet talked my husband and I into signing her up for a week of camp. She’s now gone for a week of swimming, canoeing, sailing, archery and BMX biking.
Don’t forget the campfires. She is really looking forward to those, although I’m not sure if she’s looking forward to learning the songs or the s’mores. Possibly both.
I was prepared for a few tears when she left. She’s still quite young after all. But she climbed aboard the bus without a backward glance. Just before the bus pulled out of the parking lot, she looked out the window and waved at me, wearing a big, confident smile.
As I watched the bus leave, taking my baby with it, I realized that she was doing far more than heading off to camp for the first time.
She was charging off into her future.