Could it be the same shirt??

Why is he wearing the same shirt as yesterday? 

I start panicking.

I know he has enough shirts.

I sent a dozen.

But it looks the same as yesterday’s!

Oh, one second.

I forgot, two of the T-shirts have similar sleeves.

I mentally go through my son’s wardrobe.

I try to remember what he’s been wearing every day of the week since camp started; I mentally go through the photos I’ve seen of him so far.

Maybe it wasn’t the same.

I make the picture bigger.

It’s getting too blurry to see; because in truth I’m only seeing a small swatch of sleeve in a sea of 400 boys, but I know it’s my son because I recognize the corner of the outer rim of his yarmulka.

I make the picture bigger and smaller and smaller and bigger.

He’s wearing the same shirt two days straight.

No, he’s not.

Argh I think he is.

And then the next horrifying thought:

What if he’s also wearing the same undershirt?

And although I don’t want to believe it, deep down I know this is probably the truth.

Feeling like it’s a judgement call on me, the mother, I push the thought away.

I’m still staring at the picture.

Until my senses return and I ask myself; Ok, what can you do about it?

And I begrudgingly admit the answer; NOTHING.

I can do nothing.

And I should do nothing.

I should practice mentally letting go.

I look again;

I hadn’t even noticed what was going on in the photo; he’s standing on a bench cheering. I take that as a sign he’s happy. He’s happy!

Unaware of my emotional roller coaster, he’s still having a great time – regardless of the shirt he’s wearing.

I try to do some mental housekeeping;

To clear my brain and free up space.

He’s in camp. Let him wear what he wants.

And if he never changes his bedding either, does it really matter? 

Practice letting go.

With a deep breath, I leave the page of photos.

Could it be that looking at 796 daily pictures of my kids in camp isn’t actually the healthiest way for a mother to spend her summer?