How fun would it be to be the person who makes that happen?
Who waits for the cue and releases celebration into the world.
Today was my middle son's last day of camp. It started 3 days into summer and ended 3 days before the new school year.
Camp, my friends, was a risk. Last year came with a lot of curveballs. A lot of failures. New diagnoses. New therapists. New medicines and supplements. LOTS of new grey hairs. And heading into the summer, my son hadn't had a lot of successes to tuck into his belt. It had been a very hard spring.
His therapist, however, had insisted he was ready for camp. That he could DO this. And not just do or survive it, but love it.
And friends?
Today, I am seizing that job that sounds oh-so-fun and releasing a storm of metaphorical balloons into our lives.
Today, he celebrated the last day of camp with a party. He brought in his own safe cake and special chips and lime juice so he could partake of the kona ice truck fun. He smiled. He laughed. He said goodbye at the door to his dad without screaming or panicking.
And when I picked him up three hours later, he ran into my arms and told me all about the party. He hugged his teacher goodbye and thanked her. And she told me he had been a delight. A DELIGHT. In fact, we had not one phone call home the whole summer. Not only did he survive, he thrived.
I handed him a little gift to celebrate - a pack of water balloons - and we talked the whole way home about how much fun he had had. About the friends he had made. And the beautiful women who had taught him and laughed with him and sang and danced with him. Who had helped him have success after success.And later on, he filled every one of those balloons and had his own little party.
And it wasn't just camp. As a sweet little four year old, he joined the swim team again this season and worked up to racing. He earned ribbons. His amazing coaches pushed him and loved on him. He had the large majority of the team and not a few parents waiting at the end of the lane in his very first 25 meter freestyle race cheering their heads off to make sure he made it. He felt like he was a part of something bigger and it made him so very happy. We even made him a swim team corkboard just like his big brother and he is so very proud of it and can't wait to fill it with more next season. He loves for me to read him his little awards that his coaches wrote for him and we laugh together about how true they are.
Cue the balloons.
We fight hard for victories around here. They don't always come often and they don't ever come easy. But my beautiful boy who had one of the hardest years of his life had his best summer yet.
I am so stinking proud of him.
He has worked his little patootie off with his therapists. And he is ready and excited for school next week. Turns out his amazing teacher this summer will be his teacher this fall so his transition (and MAN are transitions rough for him) is almost nonexistent this Tuesday. Look at God, friends.
We don't know how this fall will go. We have a lot of hope that his successes will continue. We know there will be good days and really hard ones.
But today, as his mama, I get to be the one who releases the celebration. And what a joy it is!
