Back in March I wrote about how fast the time has gone with Cameron. The little baby who I held just yesterday is about to embark on a new journey in life…Kindergarten.

But before we make it to school buses, lunch lines, and full school days we’ve got summer camp. A few months back we decided that Cameron should go to a couple of weeks of day camp. We thought it would be a good way to get him used to a full day (something completely new to him) and to gage how he would be after that full day of activity. Remember, up until this point he’s only gone to school for two and three hour starches and he STILL takes an afternoon nap on occasion.

Today was the first day of camp. I was both nervous and excited for him. Nervous because I worry about him making friends and listening to his counselors, and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in worrying about my child fitting in socially. I was excited for him to have a whole day out of the house (away from mean mom) doing fun things like tennis, golf, swimming, crafts and games.

As it turns out, the little guy was excited too. Up at 6:30 this morning, you would have thought he was headed to Disney World or something. Of course being the sappy mother I am, as soon as I saw just how excited he was, I started to cry. It really feels like just yesterday he was this tiny little baby who depended on me for everything, and today he left me to have some fun at camp. As fast as the past five years have gone, he’ll be leaving me for college in the blink of an eye ((sigh)).

When we got there, he jumped right out of the car and talked excitedly all the way in to check in. As we waited in line he chatted with one of the counselors while holding his little bag of camp stuff. When it was our turn and he got his super cool camp shirt he was ready for me to go. I went to put his bag down for him and when I turned to give him a hug goodbye, he was gone. As I scanned the room, I saw him sitting with a group of kids playing with the counselor, so I quietly left. Of course I proceeded to get in the car and cry…Again! I stopped by at my parent’s house and burst into tears a third time telling them how excited he was and how well he did going in.

Talk about a long day. Sure, I’ve spent days away from the kids before, but knowing I needed to pick him up from camp, the day dragged on. I missed him and wondered what he was doing, and hoped he was having fun.

FINALLY it was time to pick him up. I was so excited to hear how his day went and a little nervous that he would be miserable because he would be so tired.

This is where the teenage/adult Cameron is going to hate me for writing this…

I walked into the pickup room and he wasn’t there. I went up to one of the counselors to ask where he was and she said he was up in the bathroom with the other counselor. OK, now the red flags are kind of shooting off thanks to the child sexual abuse training I had to take for my new job at the YMCA. I was uncomfortable, but figure this guy is probably pretty well screened so I didn’t go flying up the stairs after them. A few seconds later the counselor comes down the stairs, with Cameron behind him, he has a trash bag in his hand and Cameron is wearing his swimsuit…Highly unexpected and very odd.

He proceeds to tell me that Cameron had a little accident and his clothes are in the bag. At first I think, “This kid hasn’t wet his pants in ages, why would he do it now?” But oh, it was MUCH worse than that. Poor Cameron had an unexpected bout of diarrhea which ended up ALL OVER everything he was wearing, including his shoes. I was so stunned I don’t think I properly apologized (which I plan to do first thing tomorrow).

Cameron saw me and got embarrassed, so he ran back up the stairs. Of course I went after him and found him near tears sitting at the top of the steps. The poor kid was mortified, and if I’m being honest, probably terrified he was going to get in trouble with me. By the time I convinced him to get down the stairs, the counselor was gone.

I was mortified! Mortified for Cameron’s sake and mortified that my kid is now that kid. Cameron is such a cool dude, and I don’t want pooping in his pants to ruin his camp cred.

The ride home, while trying not to vomit from the stench of his clothes, I tried to find out what happened and why he would poop in his pants. It wasn’t until we got home that he told his father he didn’t realize he had to go, that it just came out. The poor kid sharted. When we did get home, Bill had the shower already going for him and I ran down to the basement to cry again. This time I wasn’t crying because I didn’t want my baby to grow up, I cried because now I worry that if this EVER happens again he’ll be made fun of and won’t have friends. Let’s face it, kids are mean.

He seemed to get over it, and is looking forward to more fun at camp…Thank God!!! But he did tell me at bedtime that he was the only kid in the group who didn’t pass the swim test to go down the slide and when he took the test the lifeguard had to go in and get him. He continued to tell me not to worry, the lifeguard was just doing his job. He wasn’t at all concerned about any of it, but I’m mom, so now I worry. I’m not worried that he’ll drown, there are lifeguards for that. I’m worried that he might get picked on for not being able to swim well enough to go down the slide.

I now feel like the world’s worst mother, I’m sending my child out into the world without the tools he needs. My worry has become shear terror that he’ll be labeled as an outcast and will miss out on some of the fun stuff in life because of my shortcomings as a mother.  Cameron is such an amazing little guy; he’s smart, funny, caring, friendly, he has an amazing heart and he’s pretty cute (if I don’t saw so myself). He deserves to have everything life has to offer and I don’t want to see him suffer because of things I did or didn’t do.

Great, now I’m crying again…This parenting thing really sucks sometimes.

OK, I took a little time off from camp this week. The extreme heat we’ve been having here in Pennsylvania has me a little sluggish, and I’ve abandoned more than just the blog, my house is a disaster…again. Since it’s still too hot to do anything and the kids are sleeping, I thought I’d spend some quiet time of my own at the computer.

Skipping ahead to today’s camp question; What names would you never name a child or pet? What name do you wish you’d been named? Do you like the name of your blog?

I have to say that I would never take someone else’s name and give it to one of my children. While it might be great and meaningful to some, I want my children to have their own names. My husband and all his brothers are named after other family members. Being that Bill is already named after someone, naming his child after him and thus that someone else too seems a little boring to me. Not to mention, with a generic last name like ours, I prefered names that stood out a little more. Of course I mean no offense to my in laws. Sorry honey, you will not have a namesake. I also wouldn’t name my children the same thing as a friend or family member. I really wanted to name Logan Alexander, but my sister’s brother in law named his son that so Alexander was out…Although it is Logan’s middle name.

My rules on no family names and no names of anyone we know made choosing names for the boys pretty difficult. Both of my boys are named after characters from my favorite soap opera, General Hospital. Don’t you judge me, they ended up with cute names that suit them.

As far as pets go, I wouldn’t name a new pet after an old pet. It’s been so long since I’ve had to name a pet, and I don’t plan on doing it again anytime soon, so I haven’t given it much thought.

What name do I wish I’d been named? I have NO idea, honestly the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. I sometimes wish that I didn’t have a boy’s name, but only because of the torture I endured as a child because of my name. Once I hit college, having a different name made me stand out to my professors and made me more memorable than the twenty or so Jennifers that were floating around. In my 31 years being named Mychal (Michael), I’ve been called by every name but my own. People are so hesitant to see a girl and call her by a boy’s name. No one ever gets it right the first time and that gets very old. Oh, and if I hear, “What, did your parent’s want a boy?” EVER again, someone is going to get bitch slapped! If only I had a penny for every time I had to explain how I got my name, I’d be a very rich woman. sigh

As far as the name of my blog goes, of course I like it, I named it. Although I have to say I liked it a lot more before some chick from California took (almost) the same name for her blog on deals. But I digress. I think the name My Life In Mommyland suits me and this blog. This is my life and I’m living it here in Mommyland.

See what the other campers had to say about names.