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Where have you been?


Been a while huh? So hows things? Weather good?

So now that we are all caught up, here's the latest from inside the Melon.

Ian is at big boy camp.
Fresh off being too small on the lacrosse field, Ian is off to a camp. It's an honest-to-goodness Camp Iawannagohome-a called Bushy Hill. It is run by a kid my brother went to high school with (no discount, rats). Ian just makes the age limit.

The first day was the hardest. For me anyway. I check in with some ultra-crunchy girl called, "noodle" and leave the boy in the care of two counselors. I slowly back away worried that he'll get lost, snatched by a large bird, eaten by a rather large squirrel -you know all those voices that suddenly fill your head as soon as your child is born.

Of course, none of those things happened. He loves the camp and is making friends. Mel and I kidded this morning that Reagan would have been a nightmare at this camp: new place, no friends, new councelors. But Ian takes it in stride. I'd like to thank his biological father, whoever you are cause Reagan takes after me.

Speaking of Reagan, she is taking some theater camp. Even better, thanks to incompatible start times with Ian's woody adventure, she gets to ride her bike there. Well, let me clarify, I drive her bike there and drop them off a block or so from the destination.

For the ride home, we've mapped out a safe route, complete with cross walks and sidewalks. Here is how this went down:
  • Day one: I meet her at her camp and we ride together home.
  • Day two: I get, "I can do it myself Dad." After I get over my heart breaking, I stalk her. Staying too far back for her to see me, but I see all. She does a good job up until she realized I was behind her. Darn cow bell on my bike (that is a story for another time).
  • Day three: "I know your hiding spot". We meet further down the way home and ride home together.
She is a good kid and rides within the rules I've set for her. I don't have that many worries. In honesty, I like having someone to ride with at the last part of my lunch ride, so this works out nicely, plus I like be that nuerotic parent I think. Call it schadenfreude if you like.

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