I'm Becoming THAT Mom!

Leigh hid behind a tree with sunscreen in her hand, and motioned for her son to come over.
Leigh hid behind a tree with sunscreen in her hand, and motioned for her son to come over.

I’m sure you remember from your childhood days some of your classmates’ moms.  There was the “fun” mom, the “gorgeous” mom, the “mean” mom, the “crafty” mom, the “old” mom, the “young” mom, the “overprotective” mom, the “I’ve got too many kids to worry” mom, and even the “crazy” mom.  I don’t think I typecasted these moms on purpose, but even as children we form our opinions about things, even if they don’t have any merit.

Just this week, with one incident, I’ve probably got my label.

I’ve been in La La Land at Topsail Beach on vacation for a week, and, on our first day back in Raleigh, I signed my kids up for a camp that started at 9 a.m.

I know.  That’s not really early, but when you are used to not being on a routine, getting on a routine becomes challenging.  I chalk it up to a genetic flaw. 

We got to camp right on time.  We were doing well.

While there, and seeing the other moms helping their children get out the golf clubs, it occurred to me that my son would be on a golf course in the sun for four hours. 

Why I didn’t think of that detail at the house before we left for camp is a good question that I can’t answer.  Sunscreen didn’t even cross my mind. 

I fought with him about wearing a collared shirt. I got a quick breakfast in him before we had to run out the door, and I made sure I put the clubs in the car.  But I didn’t protect his skin from the sun like I had all week while he was on the beach.

My daughter and I left him at the course, and I proceeded to take her to camp. She didn’t have on sunscreen, either, but her camp was indoors aside from 20 minutes of outdoor play.

The sunscreen guilt set in. I could not let him be in the intense sun for four hours without sunscreen.

Also, I think it may be the perfect time to add that my son hates sunscreen.  He still twitches and fusses when it is applied to his face.

But if he developed a bad sunburn during this camp, I would be to blame.

I had no choice to do what any mom would do.

I went back home, grabbed the sunscreen, and drove 15 minutes back to the golf course.

I slowly approached the campers with a can of sunscreen in one hand and face lotion in the other.  I hid behind a tree and motioned my son to come over to where I was standing.

The golf campers looked at me, and I told my son to hold out his arms and spread his legs.

And I fired. 30 SPF, baby. 

“Mom, what are you doing?” said a mortified little voice.

I slapped some lotion on his ears, his cheeks, and nose while the other campers stared in amazement.

“You need sunscreen,” I exclaimed.

It was over in a minute. I looked around.  I proudly held up my can and quietly said, “Anyone else?”

No one came forward.

I backed away, and just like that I became the “crazy” mom.

I’ll try to remember the sunscreen before camp tomorrow.