Summer camp can be frightening, especially for moms

My daughter turned nine in what I call the summer of my bleeding heart. It all started when her cousin mentioned the two of them going to summer camp. My daughter was ecstatic. I, on the other hand, terrified. I'd never let go of her for a whole week. Would she remember to bathe? Who would come her hair? What if she cried for me at night? Despite such tormenting questions, several weeks later found us at the place of surrender.

For the rest of the story, I hope you'll click over to Emily's wonderful blog, Chatting at the Sky, where I am honored to be guest blogging for her today, while she finishes up a book she's working on. I, for one, can't wait to read it.

Thanks, Emily, for this opportunity.