The Princess Pat lived in a tree

My parents both came to the weekly campfire tonight.  And they both sang our ridiculous, wacky, nonsensical, quirky, embarrassing, funny, lovable Camp Royallian camp songs!  Picture, please, my dad wiggling his hands, arms and, above/below all things, his bum in rhythm to a capella shouts thrown 'round a fire. 

Yummy!

These are just six of the 101 salads that Mark Bittman raves about here.  Thanks, A CUP OF JO.

And speaking of good food that's good for you, my friend Elisabeth just discovered this.  If you've ever wondered what would happen to a group of twelve humans locked up in a zoo and forced to eat the diet of an ape, then you should read the article.  A banana does a body good.

My parents are coming to visit tomorrow!

What I just devoured:

Ingredients: Organic Sweet Potatoes, Water

Elisabeth and I went to Food Lion to buy some water guns for this year's kickoff of camp's "Assassin" competition.  We're allowed to kill people with plastic knives and/or water gun shots.  So, to increase our odds and abilities to win, we decided to doubly equip ourselves by acquiring both weapons to place on our persons.

While at Food Lion, carefully exploring each aisle for plastic firearms, we openly salivated once having reached the baby food section.  Leaving the store with many a memorable and tasty purchase, the mashed up sweet potatoes were by far the yummiest steal of the night.  For me, they were just the right amount of sweet taste and "abc" (already-been-chewed) texture.  And you can't beat these types of labels:

• Organic
• No Artificial Colors
• No Artificial Flavors
• No Preservatives
• No Added Salt or Sugar
• Vegan
• Wheat Free
• Kosher

Autism Wins

 courtesy of  Jean Rheem photography

Today it hit me that there are only two weeks of camp left.  Faceplams*

When I first started working at Camp Royall, I had not the slightest grasp on what I was getting myself into.  If I had had to define ASD then, I would have foolishly blurted out some lame, textbook definition lacking personality and truth.  And after that first week of training (i.e. the first time that said definition finally gained some dimension), I seriously doubted my strength and commitment to perform such a challenging job for the next two months that were ahead of me.  But then I met people, REAL people.  And all my fears and worries melted away; I understood the importance of honesty and trust, instead.  I saw how my campers trusted me, bearing their true skins (figuratively and literally, quite frankly), knowing full well that it was because they, too, understood my honest intent of making camp the best week of their lives!  

I have grown several years in the realm of responsibility and have traveled through light years of love in such a short (yet intense) amount of time.  At camp, I am responsible for the mental and physical well-being of another human being (yeah, I know...it blows my mind too).  For this reason, campers must fly quickly past the category of stranger and nestle themselves safely and securely into the welcoming arms of the family that Camp Royall is.  

And I have not the opportunity to even think about being selfish here.  I have gone weeks forgetting about my personal health and hygiene because of how much of a priority the happiness of my campers has become for me (I love that I don't bother to put makeup on anymore)!  Many of my campers have been younger than me and many have been much, much older than me.  But, all have been as easy with which to form friendships and care about on a level comparable to the way a mother must inherently feel about her child.  

The camper/counselor relationship that I have experienced this summer is like the strongest magnet that can't be pulled apart: Two things very different but fused together by a bond as straightforward as blind love.  And as each person learns, reciprocally, from the other, it becomes a bond truly unique to this wonderful camp and community of Autism enthusiasts in North Carolina.

courtesy of Carina Shojinaga photography

The best part about this whole experience is that I finally feel like my life has some kind of direction.  Now that I have discovered the way working with people with Autism makes me feel, I can't go back to feeling anything less.  My life is changed forever (dramatic, yes, but the way I truly feel).

Christmas in July

I'm alive, I swear.  A bigger update to come soon.  Crosses heart*

Elisabeth, Jean and I went to the Botanical gardens at Duke Univ on our day off.

Mr. In-between

Kenny and Jordan: totally unrelated to this post, but totally called for

Week 7 is almost halfway done (I can't believe it)!  It is definitely a change in pace from last week (high functioning adults), and my energy levels have reached an official, all-time low. But I absolutely love and adore my camper in spite of this.  In many ways, his imagination and love for the pool remind me of my little one from week 3.  However, my camper this week is smaller, younger and a little more stubborn/grouchy.  

I'm just beginning to understand him, though.  I expect that by the end of the next 12 plus hour day, I'll know him as well as I know some of my friend's cell phone numbers (i.e. almost by heart).  And, hey, I've already begun to assemble an impressive repertoire of counter-behavior strategies.  For example, tickling and pretending to be any of a variety of species from the genus of "big cat" have consistently demonstrated themselves as surefire ways to turn his frown upside down*.

*knocks on wood

Blueberry fields forever

Yesterday night, Jean's bff, Amy, had to dogsit/housewatch in Pittsboro (right near camp!).  Amy decided to make a sleepover out of it.  Lyell from Wilmington was also there and the four of us enjoyed an evening playing with the giant dogs, eating pasta and Amy's salsa, learning/teaching Purple Haze on the guitar, youtubing and playing with each other's hair, below:

The best part about my stay with Jean's friends, however, was the blueberry picking.  They were so naturally sweet and, therefore, divinely delicious.  There's just something so perfect about going out into a garden and gathering fresh fruit for yourself.

Blueberries that are a no no to eat

High functioning adults week

Plebe Makeover

Before and After shots:

Can I just exclaim here how awful the glasses that they make them wear during boot camp are? Okay, yes.  Those boot camp glasses are just awful!

Erm, it's pretty late (considering I woke up at five this morning) and I need to get ready for bed.  Agenda for tomorrow is breakfast with the grandparents in the morning and then college park for the remainder of the day and night (slumber party with Rachael) and then I'm heading back to camp on Friday.  I promise to write an actual entry about "I Day" as they call it (short for Induction Day, duh) at a later date.  Woo class of 2013!  I am suddenly surging with Naval Academy (soon to be Navy) pride.

Love,

Monica

P.S.  Today a USNA mom turned to me and said, "Do you have a son or a daughter here today?"  I said, plainly, "I have a brother."  The whole thing made me laugh out loud but, honestly now, do I really look like I could pass for a parent?  I mean, the other day I got carded when buying sparklers.  How can I look both too old and too young for myself, people?!