Back in February, I signed the boys up for a week-long intensive basketball camp. At the time, they could hardly wait to lace up their shoes and hit the court, yet they had to endure four long months until the start of camp. Finally, the night before camp had arrived and we had arranged a sleepover with the next door neighbor and fellow camper. It was a win-win situation for us since we had to drop Cricket off at a different camp the next morning and weren’t able to get the boys to camp ourselves. Sport and Rocky excitedly packed their gym bags and sleepover gear then headed over to spend the evening with their buddy. Maverick and I were just turning out the lights around 11 pm when the phone rang (cue my stomach sinking). It was Sport calling to say he was scared and wanted to come home. I tried to calm him with every tool I had, yet no success. Finally, I suggested that I come over to tuck him in, thinking that seeing me in person would calm his fears. When I arrived, he still pleaded with me to just let him sleep in his own bed. I knew that taking him home not only meant that he would have to skip the camp he had so looked forward to, but also give in to an anxiety that I knew he could overcome. Part of me wanted to scoop him in my loving arms and run him back to our house, but I ultimately knew that wasn’t best for him. I tucked the covers around his head and began singing his favorite song. I could see his body relax as he turned over and closed his eyes. We exchanged an “I love you” and I headed out the door. I tossed and turned all night wondering if I had made the right decision. Early the next morning, I received a text from the neighbor mom saying the boys were all still sleeping…not a peep all night. A wave of relief washed over my exhausted body. That night after camp, Sport enthusiastically reported on the day’s events including his team’s 5-on-5 win. It was certainly a day of victories all around.
Photo Courtesy of: KBB