The Boys Are Back In Town

August 4, 2012 in Uncategorized

So, the three dudes (Big Dude, Middle Dude, and Little Dude) were all away at sleep-away camp for a month this summer.  Without going into too much detail, I’ll briefly relay to you that it was simply four weeks of sheer bliss for my husband (Ohboydad) and me.  But, this post is not going to focus on how much fun and freedom we had, including our jaunts into the city and to the beach, with plenty of beer and chardonnay along the way.  No, instead I’m going to tell you what it’s like when your three sons come BACK from sleep-away camp.

Some people refer to it as “re-entry.”  I refer to it as “my-glorious-vacation-came-to-a-screeching-halt-and-now-I’m very-pissed-off.” You see, re-entry is that period of time when your kids return from overnight camp and need to adjust to their lives in the real world again.  You know, they have to get used to watching TV, playing video games, riding their bikes, hanging out with their friends, and basically having whole days free with nothing to do.  I don’t call that re-entry.  I call that my personal nightmare.

Five minutes after Big Dude had been home from camp, he declared, “I’m bored.”

Middle Dude chimed in with a, “I’m sad, and want to go back to camp.”

Little Dude asked, “Can we go to Game Stop and buy NBA 2K13?”

I know you’re thinking that their declarations of boredom and falling back into their addictions to video games isn’t so bad.  And you’re right.  But, what you don’t realize is that it’s not the boys’ re-entry that is so difficult.  It’s mine.  No one really considers how painful it is to instantaneously morph back into mom-mode.  There is no warm-up period or readjustment phase.  One minute you’re an empty-nester living the good life and the next, you’re back to preparing meals, doing laundry, driving carpools, and refereeing fights.  And, oh that hurts.

But alas, I do eventually fall back into my routine, with my month of play-time but a distant memory.  And, I start to remember how much I missed my boys while they were away.  Until they start arguing over the remote and punching each other senseless.  Then, I’m ready to ship them off again so Mom can go back to chilling, which she does particularly well.  However, there is one thing that helps ease my pain a little bit:  Looking forward to next summer, when my three dudes return to sleep-away camp.  Only 337 days to go.

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