Honest isn't always pretty

Sometimes I take comfort in the fact that my computer keyboard can act as a filter that only lets a certain amount of my crazy make it to your screen. Then there are other times when I am so preoccupied that I just hide in the corner, but sometimes I get lonely there and have to come out. (I get hungry too and have to search out snacks.) At the end of the day though, there is really no reason to be here unless I am going to be honest. There is a chance that my honesty may amuse you, which is fantastic. There is also a small possibility that the truth in my tales will bring a split second of awkwardness, as you identify with my plight, followed by a rush of relief as you realize that you are not alone in your lot as a worrier, which is also great. (My only hope is that I do not give you new things to be unsettled about.)

Current setting: Fifty hours into my thirteen year old daughter's trip to DC with student council at school. This means I have been worrying for well over fifty hours. I have about six more to go.

As I prepared my mind for this journey, I got some preliminary apprehension regarding actual road safety out of the way. I don't really like to get bogged down with uneasiness about obvious things though. I started to move through other topics like packing the right clothing to maximize her comfort, but I knew I could dig deeper. I spent some quality time concerning myself with the very real potential for girl drama and hurt feelings during the trip. I also devoted a few minutes here and there to wonder whether or not my daughter would get enough sleep.

The actual departure date brought a bit more distress as the reality of the situation solidified. It was much better for me to discuss things like sunscreen with my daughter, in an attempt to conceal how fast my mind was starting to spin. She actually seemed to think that  a little SPF wasn't a bad idea, or is more intuitive than I realized and was afraid there might be worse battles ahead. When I saw the duffle bag full of snacks her friend was bringing, I kept my mouth shut about trying not to get a stomach ache. I also maintained silence about how knowing they would eat food while unsupervised in the hotel room got my choking paranoia senses tingling.

I did not shed a tear at the departure, and my only extra gesture was a tug on her pony tail to say good-bye again.

What if I didn't send her with enough money, or what if she loses the money she has? Why can't I have more faith in her being a responsible person? What if she doesn't have fun? What if she gets a headache? (OK, maybe I gave some Advil to the chaperone just in case...and I know for a fact I was not the only one to do so.) Why is there so much walking on the itinerary? What if there are shenanigans and somebody falls off a bed? What if they don't sleep well, and then have to do all of that walking? Upon arriving back home after the drop off and seeing all of her essential pillows and stuffed animals for a proper night's sleep, well, you know what that made me ponder once again.

Just to sort of sum things up, here are some texts from Thursday morning...

I had actually packed some of her snacks in a plastic bag, so this was not just a random reminder. What? Not the point?

In my defense, I could not recall actually ever having a conversation with my daughter about not putting shopping bags over her head. Oh, who am I kidding? I am just grateful for friends who check on me!

(oops, that should've been "choking", but maybe "cholking is something else I should consider)

I try to tell myself that no matter how ridiculous the crazy train running through my mind gets, the important thing is that I let her go at all. Gosh I hope she had fun...(and slept, and isn't sunburnt, and...)