Camp

 So Miss Pickle is off on her first overnight school camp today.

On one hand I feel completely free. 

On the other hand I feel like I should be doing stuff I can't do when she's around.  

Which is... 

um... 

nothing.

I'm not that interesting.

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This will be the second time she has not slept within 15 metres of me since Mr Duncan died.

The first time was unexpected.  Maybe six weeks ago we were invited to join long time friends (and their peer aged child) for the day at a local festival. 

They mentioned they were camping there and we were welcome to camp with them for the night.  

Pickle was not keen, but I threw a sleeping bag and change of clothes into the car just in case.  And as we applauded the last performer on stage she suggested we stay the night.  I was clear that I wasn't going to stay (deliberately didn't pack for me), but could pick her up in the morning.  

And she decided to stay!

So, I drove home.  For the first time in ~six years I had a night to myself.

And what did I do?

Actually, I did what I normally do on any given night.  

Which is to say, nothing.  Except she wasn't in her bed.  

It was weird.

I did notice I had an amazing sleep, without half an ear listening for Pickle.

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Re: Camping.

Mr Duncan and I fell in love travelling between Melbourne and London in a tent on top of a Land Rover Defender.

He promised a 5 star experience.  

I'd give it a 4.  But I stuck with it for ten months so can't have been that bad....

A few years later we had Pickle who is now 10.

And (as much as it costs a fortune to keep it road-worthy parked in our driveway), we try to go camping in her Dad's Land Rover every year. 

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I've known about this school camp for a while now.

I thought maybe I could organise a great dinner out at a local restaurant for the Mums.  

Except, I'm the only, only Parent. 

The rest of them have other children and husbands/partners/lives etc...

And the local restaurants are mostly closed on a Monday.

So here we are.

Second night of no child to attend to since Mr Duncan died.

What do I do?

Ha! 

I write here.

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It feels like, as a ten year old this should not be our second experience apart.  But without any family in the country, or another parent, the truth is we are each-other's universe.

I want to prepare my child to function in the world.  I want her to have the skills to encounter random experiences and build confidence as she navigates them.

And she's pretty good at that. 

I am the base she comes home to.

And I will always be that. 

But she's now ten.  

She's starting to grow her own life.  

She's so independent.  

And reminds me (endlessly) how much I am surplus to requirements (except when she needs a cuddle).

So maybe it's time for me to start growing my own life.  So I have something left for me, when it is time for her to spread her wings.  

And leave the nest.  

Which obviously is what I need to prepare, and want for her.

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Maybe I need to spend time to also prepare for me.