It's been somewhat quieter around this place, although the general hum of the household is punctuated with the sound of wrestling sons; their seven year age difference doesn't get in the way of a good tackle. Mornings have been a lot easier too, without a tortuously slow-to-get-moving 11-year-old girl to coax along in getting dressed. And the spats about television program selection - together with milk consumption, colour pencil debris and phonecall activity - have decreased considerably.
But I miss her terribly and can't wait to see her when the bus rolls into school tomorrow afternoon. I want to hear all the news of her adventures, about the funny things her friends did, updates on what the mean girls got up to, and the latest on the grade five 'boys my friends and I have crushes on' register.
Most of all, it will be nice to have balance restored to the house. Even if that balance comes home with lots of dirty washing, some inevitable post-camp grumpiness and the need to sleep for about 14 hours straight.