So yesterday was Scooby's first day at sleepaway camp. We had to meet the bus at 6:45am, so I planned to get up at 6:00. He came in our room at 5:00 saying he couldn't sleep, and spent the last hour not-sleeping in our bed. He was happy and excited during breakfast, although he didn't eat much, and fine while we sat in the car in the rain waiting for the bus, which finally came at 7:10. He was fine until he actually got on the bus, then the tears came. He wanted to be sure I'd packed kitty and pillow, which I had, although he didn't want to hold them right then. He was in tears when the bus left, although I'm sure he was fine by about 10 minutes in. We wrote him a letter in the afternoon, and mailed it for him to receive tomorrow or the next day.
So all day long I'm talking to myself, convincing myself he's having a great time, or at least learning how to survive in a difficult social situation. Then last night, a swath of tornado warnings, funnel cloud sightings, dangerous lightning and golf-ball sized hail passes right through where the campsite is. Don and I spent an extremely anxious hour in front of the tv watching the weather. When it had passed by the camp area, we called the emergency number and requested a call back letting us know everything was okay. Five minutes later someone from the camp called back and assured us everything was fine - that it didn't even rain there. Which I don't get, but which made me feel marginally better.
So, it's day two, and we haven't gotten a phonecall to come and pick him up, or any teary homesick pleas. We sent him with some stamped envelopes and blank pages to write us, and I really hope he does. Tarzan and Cinderella miss him, mostly at night, but it has been a lot quieter around here.
If you're praying people, keep him in your prayers. Or good thoughts, or vibes, or whatever. My baby bird is growing feathers on his wings, and it hurts. It might be a little uncomfortable for him too.