Terrifying

There is a look that a person's face makes when there is an emergency. It is CHILLING. You know immediately, without words, that something is WRONG.

Today Counselor M ran into the Welcome Center and had that look, saying, "come quick. Nanny just passed out."

Apparently she walked into the DC, said, "get Camp Director" and then collapsed. When the nurse and I got to her, she was the whitest I've ever seen a person, laying on the floor. She said she'd been feeling nauseous earlier in the day, hadn't eaten much at lunch and then started feeling dizzy.

X was napping when she started to feel sick, so she walked to the DC for help and then promptly collapsed.

Luckily there were several staff there and emergency procedures kicked in quick as someone ran for help, the nurse was walkied, and within minutes, we were there with her. Someone ran to the trailer immediately to check on the baby and someone else had put her feet up on a chair and were with her the whole time.

Luckily baby X was safely asleep, and not in her arms.

Luckily she realized she wasn't well and went for help, so that she wasn't alone in my trailer when she passed out.

It was a bad situation with SO many things that went well. I think she made a smart choice and I have to give her credit for doing so, even though she wasn't feeling well.

When I was on maternity leave, I was COMPLETELY terrified that something would happen to me during the day. I had terrible paranoid, anxious day dreams about the baby spending all day screaming in his crib by himself if I passed out. Or that I would pass out and drop him and he'd be on the floor screaming all day.

I've never passed out in my life. I don't have any health problems. I had no reason to worry about passing out (other than being sleep deprived, postpartum, a bit terrified of the TINY newborn that I was responsible for, anxious, and did I mention sleep deprived?!). 'N' thought I was losing my mind and told me to stop allowing myself let my mind run with such terrible "what if" scenarios. But I had a TINY new baby that was SO delicate and needy. Everything about him was so tiny and fragile. And being responsible for keeping him alive all day was intimidating. But I was fine. He was fine. And eventually he got bigger and I calmed down (a bit) and the horror scenarios stopped running through my head.

But today was scary. Because THAT was exactly what I was so paranoid was going to happen to me. And I can't stop thinking about 'what if she'd been holding him?" "what if she'd been alone with him?" "what if anyone, ever, for the rest of his life that he's small enough to hold, passes out and drops him?" Maybe I should insist that he is NEVER alone with just one person. Maybe I should insist that no one (including me) ever holds him while standing up? Maybe I should wrap him in pads and get a helmet and cover our floors in pillows. And really, while I'm making safety rules, maybe he should never be in a car (because those are dangerous). And come to think of it, I've switched from pureed baby mush to actual food, but even really soft, tiny pieces are probably dangerous, so maybe we should go back to the mush... I wonder how long he could just have breastmilk (it's a complete source of nutrition)? Oh, and crawling? He's SO close, but that needs to be out. And forget teaching him to walk.

Except that life is filled with what ifs, and "it could have been worse" and "that would have been totally different if that one small detail was changed" and my imagination is WILDLY creative, coupled with terrible anxiety, makes for some scary thoughts. So I have to put up a stop sign and be thankful that even though today was scary, it was fine. He's fine. She's fine. I'm fine.

Power Outage 2

We lost power again today. It was perfectly sunny, not a cloud in the sky and not even a light breeze. And all of a sudden, the lights went out. Power was only out for 3 hours, but the memory of going without power for several days was still fresh in my mind and so I felt much more stressed out than I should have.

Once again, my concern wasn't about the 100 kids or 20 staff I'm responsible for. I wasn't worried about feeding them. I wasn't worried about making sure we had buckets of water to flush toilets. I wasn't worried about drinking water. I wasn't worried about hand sanitizer.

I was worried about how I was going to give my kid a bath. I was worried about keeping my house cool enough (without air conditioning or a fan) so that it wasn't hot when I put him to bed. I was worried about how to warm up frozen organic veggies that I feed him for dinner. I was worried about keeping frozen breast milk frozen and fresh breast milk cold.

I know that I have to let go of my uptight tendencies when it comes to this child. He doesn't need to take a bath every night. It has been uncomfortably hot, but not dangerous at any point. He mostly drinks breastmilk, so his dinner veggies aren't even necessary. And my refrigerator and freezer can both stay cool for many hours before I need to worry about milk.

Camp is a wonderful place to have a baby. He is surrounded by people who smile and wave and make silly faces at him. The kids and the staff love him. They enjoy watching him learn things and grow up in front of them, and he is learning so much by being around everyone. He is social and friendly and very easy going. Some of that is his personality, but some of it is growing up in a community. He is outside all day, every day. He gets to swim almost every day. He gets to breath fresh air and be in nature. His life is filled with music, laughter, love and sunshine.

I'm trying to remind myself that if he misses a bath a day here or there, or gets some bug bites or is hot on a hot day, he's still going to be happy, healthy and his life is still wonderful. I'm fighting the new-mom urge to get a giant plastic bubble and lock him away from dirt and germs. I know (in my brain) that in order to grow into a well-adjusted human, he is going to have to fall down, be uncomfortable, feel sadness or disappointment. In the camp brochure this year, I wrote, "we must prepare the child for the road, not the road for the child. It is not my job to make the road less bumpy, it is my job to teach him the life skills he will need to navigate future obstacles."

That's so true. So smart. I rock at youth development of OTHER people's kids. But my kid?! Nope. I don't want his precious feet to touch the ground, ever.

It's annoying to lose power- I've never enjoyed it. But I am trying to calm down so that it isn't a source of anxiety every time it happens.

Memories

My facebook timehop showed me a memory today. I had posted about a kid biting another kid. "How did he taste?" I'd asked him. "Sweaty" was the answer.

http://sunshineandrainbowdreams.blogspot.com/2010/08/sweaty.html

That was 6 years ago!

I thought I was going to have to send that kid home. He was NOT an easy kid. I called his mom at least 3 times through the week. And when she registered him the following year, I considered telling her he couldn't come back. But I didn't, and he came back and he was less obnoxious that year. He came back the next year and the next, and each year, he got less obnoxious and more enthusiastic about camp.

And now he's back (this week!) for his 6th summer of camp. He's back as a leader-in-training. He's been talking about "when I'm a counselor in a few years" for the past 2 summers. He is PASSIONATE about camp.

I laughed so hard when that memory popped up. I would NOT have predicted he'd be back six summers in a row and that I would be excited to see him!

We've Come a Long Way

I was standing on the dock, lifeguarding swimming today. Three staff came down to use the paddle boards while on break. The fishing group took out the paddle boats. There were about 15 kids in the canoes and kayaks. There were 20 kids in my swimming group. It was a LOT of people doing a variety of activities all at once. As I watched the crowd, I was filled with a sense of awe and pride.

When I started at camp 9 years ago, we didn't have paddle boards or paddle boats. Those are here because of me.

I started thinking about all of the things we didn't have- we didn't have slingshots or throwing tomahawks. We didn't have a gaga pit or 9 square in the air or carpet ball or the checker pit. We didn't have a stage at the fire pit, or in Indian Point Lodge or in the dining hall. We didn't have skychairs or hammocks. We didn't have the campfire cooking program. We didn't have a media specialist (I used to try to take photos while doing EVERYTHING else and then upload them at midnight before falling into bed!). We didn't have the welcome center (that building was FILLED with garbage (literally to the ceiling).

It's easy to feel overwhelmed by all of the things that we want to fix or change or need (but don't have).

But today I was focused on all of the things we HAVE and the major progress I've made over the last 9 years and I was so so proud.