Yesterday, Marcus and I drove Alex up to the Piney Woods for her very first sleepaway camp. Alex has always been incredibly independent (on her first day of preschool, when I was nervous my two-year-old toddler might experience some separation anxiety, she looked at me, waved "'BYE, MOM!" and scampered into the classroom without so much as a backwards glance); so, needless to say, she's been looking forward to this for months.
(Alex and I are complete opposites in this regard: camping, summer or otherwise, has never been my thing. While the setting of this particular camp is beautiful [see above], the area where the rustic cabins are situated was muddy yesterday because of recent rains, and as she eagerly ran over to the registration to sign in and find her cabin, I picked my way around soupy puddles muttering to Marcus, "Even at 11 years old, this would've been my idea of hell.")
So Alex is now happily ensconced at camp, where there'll be swimming and horseback riding and even a dance -- all things she adores. And I'll be obsessively refreshing the camp website every day for images of her having a whale of a time over the next week.
(I'll also be obsessively refreshing this website to keep an eye on the storm that's threatening to develop in the Gulf. Hopefully we won't have to pick her up early from camp on our way out of town!)