Yesterday was Sam's first day at YMCA day camp. I dropped him off at 8:30, went down to the locker room, called my mom and had a little cry.
The Y was a huge part of my life growing up. Most of my childhood memories that aren't home or school oriented are either from church or the Y. My mom worked there, so we always had a membership. One of my first jobs was babysitting during aerobics classes, which paid me a whopping $2 per hour! One of my first boyfriends was a super-cute Y lifeguard named Jeff. When I turned 13 I became a junior camp counselor (an unpaid position, I might add) and I continued to work summer camp until after my freshman year in college. I got paid when I got older, by the way.
Even though the campers I worked with were older, I know the ins and outs of 'little camp' pretty well as my best friend and mom both worked with the little guys. There would be singing, swimming, arts and crafts and general running-around-crazy-play time.
I was a crazed maniac little anxious in regards to the swimming. I thought I was keeping my own neuroses under control until Sam informed me that he was 'nervous' about swimming without me. His. Exact. Words. While it took the effort of a thousand men, I was able to refrain from asking the camp director if any kids had ever drowned on their watch. I did, however, inquire about the time of the swimming. My reasoning being that if I knew swimming would be over by a certain time, I could relax a smidgen at that appointed hour because the danger would be over. Of course, when my sister-in-law called right after the swim session began, I just about laid an egg.
But, of course, all of my worries were for naught. He loves the swimming with all of his tiny heart. He also loves playing tag, or as he explained, 'that game where I run up and touch you on your back and then you run up and touch me on my back!' In fact, he loves tag so much that he peed in his pants because he didn't want to go inside to use the restroom. But his favorite part of the day would have to be the very beginning. The kids get dropped off in the gym, so while they wait for everyone else to arrive there is general mayhem. Correction: general mayhem with basketballs. Real basketballs and real basketball hoops. Not that he even stands a chance of making a basket, mind you. But he tries so very, very hard.
Although I hate to say it, it certainly is fun to play at the YMCA.
4 comments:
I loved the way the Y raised me too. I love to smell bleach because it reminds me of the Y. I love love love the Y.
My brother was a jr. counselor. I used to tease him and tell him it was just a way of telling 13 year olds that they still needed daycamp without making them feel like they were in daycamp!
jake will definitely be a jr counselor
Sounds like he had a great time. I would have laid an egg too if someone called right around the time of the swim. I actually almost lay an egg if I see the daycare number show up on my phone.
They know me so well the first thing they say is they are ok, we just called for...
Sounds like the start of yet another amazing set of memories for both of you!
We don't really have the Y here. Not to the same degree you guys do. What a wonderful experience for him. Once you're used to it you'll enjoy the down time I'm sure :-)
Post a Comment