It’s a Funny Feeling

It’s a funny feeling watching them grow.  It’s a funny feeling seeing how independent they’re becoming.  It’s a funny feeling knowing that the sand in the egg timer has dropped another level closer to the day they leave home.  It’s a lovely feeling watching them grow.  It’s a lovely feeling seeing their individual personalities and interests develop. 

Rich Tea Boy asked me how the washing machine worked.   That is a miracle!  He wanted to wash his clothes, to pack his bag ready for Camp.   That was a first.   Never before in the annuls of Rich Tea Boy time has he ever been motivated to pack his own bag.  Normally I have to give him a hand written list with all he will need on it.   But not this time.   The even more exciting part is that Camp is not about him attending but about him serving as part of a bigger team.  He is on service crew helping with menial tasks that make the camp run smoothly for the greater good.  Wow!  And he is so excited about that, he grew up, initiated his own bag packing with time to spare (not last minute) and proved that he CAN be organised.

It was a funny feeling packing Miss Friendship and Miss Puddleduck off two days later to attend the Camp.  It was with much mother worry that I let go and sent Miss Puddleduck,  now she is old enough to attend.  I can’t help wondering how she’s doing in a tent, a little sleep deprived.  But Miss Friendship and other trusted friends are there to keep a wise eye on her.

It is a funny feeling watching Longshanks prepare to be examined in his carriage driving skills.  Much mother worry surfaces again as we prepare to take him to Derbyshire,  then Norfolk.  Is he well enough prepared?   Does he know all he needs to know?  Is his portfolio sufficient?  But at the end of the day I have to stand back and let him do his best without any input from me.   It reminds me of preparing Miss Friendship for her violin exams although with those I know more about what is involved.  With this, I am clueless.   Still I have the sense that if I could do it for them I would.   What rot!  What would be the point of that?   So it is a funny feeling learning to let go.  It is a funny feeling learning to love letting go.  I trust them and I trust them to do their best.

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About deerfeet

I am a home-educating mother of four children. We live on a small holding in Wales and my husband is active in local politics and the lead pastor of our church, Festival Church.
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