First nine months:
First school camp:
I dropped Felix off at his first school camp this afternoon.
It’s a band camp.
Cue lots of “one time, at band camp” quotes from American Pie.
He has been more than excited since oh, the beginning of term back at the end of January.
On the way there he was all, “I’m so excited I have butterflies in my tummy”.
We got there and it was clearly all very organised.
Except for the implementation of the organisedness.
So there was lots of labels and signs and not much ‘Children, you must register and then take your instrument and wait downstairs. Parents fuck off’.
It gave me a right headache in the space of about 30 seconds.
Felix is a lot like me in that he does not particularly enjoy crowds or mayhem.
I see him torn when things like the school disco is on and he wants to go with his mates but he knows how loud it is going to be and how much screaming the girls will carry on with (what is with that? Chicks – the guys don’t dig it) and how much of a headache he’s going to have afterwards.
Oh the angst of an almost 8 year old.
Tomorrow night there’s a talent quest but I hadn’t talked to him about it because I figured it was something that just sort of came together at the camp.
Of course it doesn’t and everyone has paired off to practice and work on their skits, performances etc.
But Felix’s two friends in band camp had paired off with others.
Mum inferred it was because they were in the extension class and tend not to play with others once they’ve been in that cohort for a while.
Like the eight weeks these kids have been in that class.
I pointed out that x and y have known each other since before school and y is not actually in that class and a and b had paired together as they are both in the percussion section of the band.
God it shits me I have to have these kinds of discussions with her.
As it shits me how she hovers when I’m trying to get someone – or all of us – out of the house and she offers things like, ‘does he have to take towels’ knowing full well he does and FUCKING JUST LET ME DEAL WITH IT.
Sorry, where was I.
So we’re at band camp and we did what we were meant to but only because I actually asked someone, ‘so what do we do now?’
If there’s one thing I can’t stand it is disorganisation on.a.large.scale.
So we’re downstairs with about four of the four hundredy children that are meant to be downstairs and I say,
‘So, would you like me to hang around for a while or are you OK?’
‘I’m good. You can go.’
And I left, watching my almost 8 year old 3rd grader hang with the 6th graders who were doing what they were meant to because this is the third year they’ve been doing it.
And if there’s one thing I totally dig about my child (as opposed to the eleventy gagillion other things I totally dig about this kid) it’s that he can hold his own.
Here’s a pic Oscar took of me with Jasper the other day without me even noticing. Apart from the hundred chins and particularly unflattering hoodie that was a desperation purchase on the last camping trip when we were caught off guard by unseasonally cold and windy weather, I love what he captured.
First nine months: