Summer

Every year, I take the kids and we leave our suburban enclave for the wilds of West Virginia.
Now, don't get me wrong. We are not in a cave in the woods. We are in an air conditioned, pimped out cabin in the woods. With a hot tub. I may love the woods but I'm not a savage. When hanging out with no one but your kids and your grandmother in law for 6 weeks, mama needs the hot tub.

So we do this for several reasons. The first reason I started it was the air. 3500 feet is my wheelhouse. Not too thin, not too humid. Just right. I don't have to hide inside in the AC all day or attach myself to my nebulizer. I can be an active parent to my active kids, which I kind of like to do. Most of the time.

The next reason is money. Despite the cost of renting a house for 6 weeks, it's actually cheaper than sending my kids to camp all summer. My kids need structure. They need a schedule. Especially Jonny. If that boy does not know what to expect every day, then we will have a meltdown when trying to get from A to B. If we were home, we would be be busy. And we would spend money to either be in camp, or do stuff. Renting the house, and being outside where we can hike, ride horses, and play every day, actually turns out to be cheaper than staying home. Plus I get to be involved. Camp Mommy. Yahoo.

Now the reason we keep coming back, the people. We have made a second home in West Virginia, and it has nothing to do with a physical structure. The people here care about myself and my family. When Jonny or Sydney struggle on a trail, they struggle. When they lead a trail ride for the first time, they all triumph. And they understand. They get it. They don't judge. Having one kid who is type A and another kid with a sensory processing disorder is not a walk in the park.
We make a big freaking deal about muddy books and celebrate mistakes. And they help.
I love the friends we've made in West By God. And I'm pretty sure they love us. And that, my friends, makes a kick ass summer, not sand in your toes.