Growing pains

Here I sit, awake at one o'clock in the morning, thanks to a 2-year-old who got a late nap. Oh, joy!

I used to get growing pains when I was little. Never understood exactly what was causing them, but I wished all the time that I would just stop growing so my legs would stop hurting. Now that I'm actually a grown-up, I didn't realize that I would get growing pains from my kids.

Drew is gone this weekend. Since his crossover from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts last month, he's been very involved in his new troop; the boys have lots of different activities, and it's mostly run by the Scouts instead of leaders, so there has been a lot for him to do. He's been away camping before, but this weekend is different, and I'm not sure I like it. Jeff had gone with him to nearly all of the Cub campouts, but he isn't going on the Boy Scout outings.

Not only is he gone camping, but the trip this weekend is a drive to San Antonio (or somewhere thereabouts) to go tubing down the Guadalupe River. This is hard for me to be "cool" with for several reasons. One, he's never been that far away unless he's been with family. Two, although I have nothing but good things to say about his leaders and I have the highest faith in them, they're not me. And three, he's spending all day tomorrow on the river. In the water, without me there to watch him.

Yes, I am aware of how ridiculous that sounds. Drew is a good swimmer, he passed his Scout swimming certification, he's taking a life jacket, and I'm sure he'll be perfectly safe. I'm also sure Jeff thinks I am a paranoid nut, but then again Jeff has never lost a brother to drowning, so he doesn't understand the depths of my fear either. Trying to let go of Andrew enough to let him grow and develop as a child, an adolescent, a Scout, while still trying desperately to hold him and keep him safe, is a hard balance to strike.

But I can't let my fear paralyze him. He needs to be able to go and do this. This is such an important trip for him, a big step towards being independent and getting away from Mommy's watchful eye, that I knew I had to let him go. "He's going to be OK" has been my mantra tonight. He's only been gone for seven hours, and I have to make it through another 36 or so! I know I did the right thing in letting Drew sign up for the trip and head off with his Scout friends. As much as I think of him sometimes as my little boy, the truth is that he's not little anymore. He can almost wear my shoes, he's nearing 5 feet tall, and he'll be 11 in less than a week. I have to let him go, because that's what is best for him.

Doesn't mean it's painless, though.

The joys of orthodontia

Last month, Andrew was overjoyed to finally have his braces removed. Although he'd only had them for sixteen months, the orthodontist had originally told him his treatment would only last for nine months, so Drew was feeling quite overdue. He grinned like a maniac for a whole week once the brackets were removed.

Last week, three weeks after the removal, I took him back to the ortho office to get his retainer. I expected the old-school plastic-and-metal-wire contraption, but he returned instead with a clear plastic guard that slips over his teeth. The instructions were to wear it for 24 hours for a few weeks, then just at night. Andrew was happy that his retainer was "invisible," but the thought crossed my mind that maybe they should dye the inside neon green just so he could find it easily when it was out. Oh well, not much I can do about that... He got a sparkly blue case to keep it in, and off we went.

Fast forward to this week. He'd only had the retainer for all of four days when my mother-in-law called to ask if she could take the boys out shopping. I said yes, and Drew and Jace went off for the afternoon with Grandma. They went to Target, bought a few things, got me a Mother's Day present (!), and ate dinner at the Target Cafe. Drew had pizza.

He took out his retainer.

He set it on a napkin inside the pizza box. Can you guess what happened next?

I found him a pair of rubber gloves, and after a quick phone call to Grandma to find out which Target they'd visited, off we went so that he could rummage through garbage cans. Most of the trash wasn't too bad, napkins and pizza boxes and such, but there were plenty of things there that caused me to lose my appetite for the night and then some. I don't think I will ever be able to eat nachos again.

He did eventually find it, and after a quick scrubbing with toothpaste, it's as good as new. Thankfully, we've only got another two weeks or so until he's down to wearing it just as night.

But something tells me that while this may be my first foray into Dumpster Diving for Retainers, it won't be my last.