Recently, we started getting ready for a 5-day-4-night-gone-from-home camp.

Who’s in charge of packing?

Is it who can wait the longer?

We worked together on the gathering.

A big pile, pretty much what was on the packing list given to us.

Then he decided which shirts, shorts, and other stuff he preferred.

We used the process of elimination.

“Do you want this shirt or that shirt?”, etc.

Mom then capitulated, and was the one who wrote his name on everything.

We stuffed it all into the suitcase, plastic bag and backpack.

As a team.

And we talked about each thing he was taking.

He liked that he was getting a reprieve from taking nutritional supplements

and could eat anything he wanted.

He gets that freedom of choice each school day in the lunch room also.

When the time came to leave, he hauled all his gear out to the car,

opened the car with the keys, and

pretty much wallowed everything into the trunk.

Mom didn’t touch anything.

En route, he got free-roaming opportunity after lunch before the 90-minute drive to camp.

Practicing freedom to stretch his soul and his legs.

Six Days Later:

The pile was back, smelling a little worse.

Yes, Mom could have cleaned it up.

And John would have learned nothing.

Big brother Saxton gave John the laundry lesson.

Mom kept her big mouth zipped.

Later, the boys moved the wet clean stuff into the dryer.

So far, it is all still in the dryer.

Dry, but still there.

That’s now on his list for tomorrow.

Oh yes, we got back on the list the day he returned.

He expected it.

And he was overall pretty proud of himself.

The way it should be.

Hope this helps a bit in your world.

Peace be with us,

Gayle