I am feeling a little out of sorts, as is Mr Strange Land, as though something is not quite right in our world.
It’s very obvious why we are feeling this way. Our elder daughter is away, on school camp. Out of our sight, out of our control, out of our capacity to care for her, although very much not out of our minds. It’s not that we want to watch over her every moment, control her all the time, care for her for ever. As all good parents do, we want her to become an independent adult. But in the meantime, she is just nine years old, and we cherish her, and we are worried about her, because we do not know for sure that she is safe, and happy.
All part of the process of letting go, of giving her baby steps towards maturity, so that when she decides to leave home, she will be ready for it. She went off yesterday morning all bright eyed and bushy tailed, and no doubt when she gets home tomorrow evening, she will be exhausted, tired from having talked all night to the friends she is sharing a bunk room with, and wearied from the constant adjustment to dwelling with other people, instead simply settling into the pleasant routines of home. And because she is not in our care, we feel that she is at risk. But how could we have possibly have refused to let her go? She wanted to go, and when we are being rational, we know that it is a good thing for her to be away on this camp.
She has of course, been away from home before, staying overnight with friends, or having a few days holiday with grandparents and uncles and aunties. It’s a little different this time; it’s the first time she has been away overnight (in this case, over two nights) since we arrived in Australia at the start of the year. Perhaps that’s why I feel just a little more worried about her this time around.
We will be so glad when she comes home tomorrow, and our world is back to rights.
Update: She’s back, safe and sound, as I knew she would be, in my rational moments. She had a great time, but she was oh so tired. We had pikelets and sammies for afternoon tea - she needed feeding up because she didn’t like the skanky pizza that had been on offer for lunch that day - but she took herself off for a pre-dinner nap at about 6pm, woke up briefly at 10pm to say hello to her father, tell him about her triumph in the talent quest, and went back to sleep until 7am this morning, when she got up and made us coffee in bed.
8 responses so far ↓
ThirdCat // Thursday 1 May 2008 at 9:06 pm
Snap!
My eldest boy was desperate to be allowed to do something ‘by himself’, so I said that two mornings each week he could walk from the car into school by himself, and then I’d follow later on (yeah, I was really going all out!). But even with just that small thing, last night, I had this dreadful dream that I let him stay home by himself and when I came home someone had broken the doors and windows…
Julie // Friday 2 May 2008 at 9:03 am
It seems that school camps have been falling out of favour - when I was at school we had an annual camp, from about 7 years old, but now they seem to be much rarer, and often held for shorter periods of time (even on school grounds). My mum used to help out a lot with camps, so would often be there some of the time at least, I wonder if this was partly about the kind of anxiety you are suffering?
Stephen // Friday 2 May 2008 at 12:28 pm
Wow. I’m afraid I’ve never been troubled by those kinds of thoughts, and posts like these make me worry that I’m inadequate or careless.
Mind you, my mother was very loathe to entrust me to others - no you can’t go on a school trip to ride horses, what if you fall off? - and that has probably sent me off in the other direction. (After much nagging, I did go on that expedition, I didn’t fall off, and the only person who was hurt was someone who already knew how to ride…
bluemilk // Friday 2 May 2008 at 2:59 pm
The attachment bond, it sure is enduring.
violet // Friday 2 May 2008 at 4:33 pm
When I get those feelings of protectiveness, it makes me hope fervently that I don’t go overboard and turn into my mother (who still won’t let me cross the road on my own - okay, joking, but only just).
sittingpugs // Friday 2 May 2008 at 10:55 pm
It’s not that we want to watch over her every moment, control her all the time, care for her for ever. As all good parents do, we want her to become an independent adult. But in the meantime, she is just nine years old, and we cherish her, and we are worried about her, because we do not know for sure that she is safe, and happy.
Wow. Brownie points for thinking about these issues when your daughter is just nine years old. Although, being nine years old in the 21st Century is quite different from being that age in the 90s (and surely even more of a contrast than in the 70s and 50s).
I was nine years old in 1990. Nine quickly became 12, and then 15, and then college!
I don’t have any kids, but I’ve experienced forms of parental worry. Specifically, the “paranoid prom night mom” mindset. The source of anxiety regarding your child’s well-being is less about “safety” and more about consistency. If your kid has always been good about calling when they say they will, and keeping you informed with last minute change in plans, any deviation from that pattern of behavior causes alarms to go off.
Eventually, if you really had not reason to get so worried (or there was a very logical, if not also unavoidable, explanation for why your child “broke protocol”), you’re more likely to say, “At least you’re okay” and immediately add, “this is coming out of your allowance” or “don’t ever do that again.”
I wonder what’s more nerve-wracking for a parent: not knowing why your child hasn’t checked in or knowing why and not being able to do anything about it.
Chad // Saturday 3 May 2008 at 12:50 am
Stephen I feel your pain. I remember when I was young, 8 or 9, my parents wouldn’t let me go skating because they felt I would get hurt. While waiting on them to come pick me up from school that day I fell and broke my arm. They felt a bit foolish after that.
suzeoz // Saturday 3 May 2008 at 6:32 pm
We’re about to face exactly the same thing - 9yo going on first school camp, in our case it will be the first time ever away from home without us. It’s only one night but I’m already a bit tense about it.
Leave a Comment