What a Life!

Ben went to Vacation Bible School this week. Every morning from 9 to noon. Joey and I went along. I’m either over protective or truly devoted. Or just plain nuts.

Every summer, I’ll be going on my morning walk and one week, all of a sudden, I’ll see everyone headed toward one of the churches in town for VBS. But I never seem to know about it ahead of time. This year, one of the churches had a big sign up, so I made plans for Ben to attend.

I only remember going to VBS once when I was a kid, but it is one of the highlights of my preschool years. The theme was creation, and we had a workbook that we did a page in (mixed art using crayons and then gluing things onto the picture) every day. Steve and I allow ourselves one 18-gallon tote each for childhood memorabilia. I still have that book.

I would have loved to drop Ben off every morning and picked him up at noon, but I knew that would never happen. Even though they have a separate storytime for Joey each week at the library, Ben insists that we go with him and refuses to go alone. He went by himself the first week, but the stampede at the end when everyone went up and got their coloring sheet and then left the room reduced him to tears. Or so the leader told me. Ever since, I have to go with him or he won’t even enter (much less stay in) the room.

So I knew I would have to go with Ben every day to Vacation Bible School. But I really wanted him to go. When we registered Monday morning, I asked if I could attend with him as a fly on the wall, and they were happy to let me do that.

What I learned? My child is more normal than I thought.

Ben was in the Preschool 2 group (based on the year of school just completed), and there were about fifteen children in his group every day. When they tried to do a new game, like Duck-Duck-Goose, which none of them said they knew how to play, it quickly became obvious that there were three groups. A third of them listened to the directions and figured it out right away. A third of them were willing participants but had to be told step by step what to when they got tagged by the Goose. And a third of them insisted on watching while everyone else played. I don’t need to tell you which group Ben was in. I can tell you I was not the only mother tagging along.

The first day, I had Joey in the stroller so he was “contained.” But then the wheel broke off my stroller so the rest of the week he was on the loose. If I wasn’t helping Ben, I was chasing after Joey. It was exhausting! Here and there I was able to be of some use and lend a hand to the other children, but I wasn’t much help otherwise. I can say I spared them from having to carry him out and call me when he realized I was missing and burst into tears. There were a number of those on the first day. After that, apparently they got used to it or they didn’t come back.

I did take Ben’s hand and make him do things he would have preferred to watch. I let him watch a little, but then we participated. Together. We did that with Duck-Duck-Goose, Red-Light Green-Light, and being in a dark room to watch a movie (every time a ride went through the dark at Disneyworld, Ben cried – even though he was sitting right next to us – so at least I was prepared).

Every day, as the morning went on, he would participate more and more willingly in the activities. But when we got home and I asked him if he had fun [Yes!] and what he liked best, his answer always seemed to be the thing he feared [and resisted] the most. Don’t ask me to explain – I’m just his mother.

By the end of the week, he would go find a place at the craft table without my having to walk him over there and stand immediately behind him in order to get him to stay (hard to do with Joey on the loose). He still preferred to follow me when we when from activity to activity, though. In my book, any progress is good, so I’m proud.

Next week, the other church in town [yes, we have two churches] is having Vacation Bible School. My hopes of being able to drop Ben off at 9:00 and pick him up at the end are very small, though there is no lack of enthusiasm on my part. Someday he’ll leave home without me and I’ll be sad. For now, I’m tagging along. Cheerfully.