The Boy with his pack.
My son left yesterday for his first Boy Scout Summer Camp. 9 whole days in the mountains of New Mexico. He's signed up for everything from orienteering to first aid and they'll be going whitewater rafting on Wednesday.
I'm jealous. ;o)
Last minute instructions.
I always like to watch him listen. You can almost feel him taking it all in.
Headed to the van.
I don't think he's ever been this excited. I know he's going to have the time of his life. It's hard to not be there to share it with him.
To see his face light up when he boards the raft.
To watch him absorb the techniques he needs to find his way in the mountains.
I really want to watch him carry that pack to their campsite.
I want to delight in his capability as he sets up camp.
Laugh as he teases the other boys into helping him carry something heavy.
He's grown up too fast.
It won't be long before he's out in the wide world all by himself.
It's a hard transition for a mother.
Even though I've done my best to teach him to be a capable young man....I don't REALLY want him to go off on his own. I want to share his life like I have since he was a tiny little guy who fit in my arm.
And I will.
But it's different.
And more than a little scary.
Ready for anything.
He's a good boy.
Of course he has all the normal stuff that rears it's ugly head from time to time.
The selfishness that only a child can own.
He can be mean.
He can be irresponsible.
But for the most part he's just a really goodhearted little guy.
Well, not so little anymore.
He outweighs me by 15 pounds and he's almost as tall as I am.
Soon he'll tower over me.
I may cry a little.
Birthing a teenager is as difficult as birthing a newborn.
Only it's the heart that hurts, not the body.
Have fun, Tyler Marshall Dylan!