Chase and Noah Camp Drop 2011

As we drove through the camp gates, a line of counselors stretched before us, each greeting us with the same salutation:

WELCOME HOME!!!

Whereas some Jewish mothers parents might squirm at the thought of their children calling any other place on the planet “home” besides the one where the family has dinner each night, I have always found this welcome comforting.  I turned to look at my sons in the back seat.  Noah was itching to jump out and find his summer friends while Chase sat back and took in the scene.  And “the look” fell over his sweet face for the third straight year.

“The Look” is difficult to explain but it is something that Dave and I picked up after Chase’s first year at sleep away camp.  During that summer, we scoured the Bunk 1 photos every night trying to pick up clues to our boys’ state of mind.  Whereas Noah was fairly demonstrative in his posing, Chase was completely Zen-like in his appearance.    A half smile, happy eyes, flanked by buddies, and in complete control of his own universe.  He is in his element at camp – he thrives there – and he can be the kid he wants to be without his parents or brother making any alternative suggestions.

I never thought I would be the Mom to send her sons away to camp.  I always questioned the intentions of parents who rid themselves of their children for longer than a week in the summer.  But of the thousands of parenting decisions we have made in the last 13 years, this was one of the best.  Sending the boys away to camp has nothing to do with us and everything to do with them.

My nephew Sam went to sleep-away camp for the first time earlier this summer and, as my brother-in-law Jeff tells it, when asked by his parents what he was looking forward to most about the pending adventure, his reply was, “Well, for one, I get to get away from you people.”  Camp = independence at a time when a child craves it.  Sam had a great summer.  He was ready for space – as my guys were on Wednesday.

The drop-off felt smoother this year than in years past.  I told Chase that if he came home with a girlfriend, I would set myself on fire. This threat made him laugh.   Noah proclaimed that he is never going to have a camp girlfriend again.  (Dave and I give him a week.)  I am pondering the packages I will send them while they are gone.  I was in the Dollar Store the other day and saw these great rubber severed hands and feet.  I wonder if the camp will frown upon that?  I think they would find plenty of uses for these items.

The boys were glad to see us leave – they had things to do, places to go, people to see.  And as we drove out of camp, a lightness came over us, knowing that our kids were so very happy and definitely “home.”

The Ride to Camp – Noah Chills While Chase Catches ZZZs

The Boys at Home – Noah and Buddy Ben – Chase on His Bunk with The Look

However, I was suddenly completely panicked that we will squander this time alone.  Expectations are high.  I repeat, expectations are high.  Everyone who has done this camp thing before has implored us to RELAX and ENJOY the time together.  So if we did this right we would go out to eat every night, sleep late each morning, take on a house project or two, shop for items that require lots of browsing and in-store pondering, throw away half the playroom, see every new movie that comes out, drink excessively, work out together, take off on a moment’s notice to various undisclosed locations, and, yes, shed all of our clothes whenever we enter the house – just to be sporty.  

I think Dave agrees with me but the difference is he doesn’t believe all of this should get done in one day. 

That is probably why he looked at me a little strangely when just hours into our kid sabbatical I began to clean the family room in a weird earnest while mumbling something akin to “must…not…delay.”  You see since we moved in four years ago, Chase has been quietly amassing a collection of crap in various hidden piles throughout the house.  Behind the furniture is one of his favorite spots and only when he is 90 miles away am I able to separate trash from treasure based on MY value system, not his.   I considered THIS a running start into my four weeks of RELAXATION because today I have to head to NY for work and Sunday I will run my first triathlon.

Somehow, I don’t think I am doing this right.

Dear Camp H Counselors:

Today I am turning my children over to your care for the next 3 weeks and 6 days (This sounds better to me than a month.)  I consider myself to be a sane individual, able to dispense prudent advice to other parents faced with fears similar to my own.  Yet, when it comes to my own children, I admittedly lose a little perspective.  This whole sleep away camp was my idea so if it goes well, I will take full credit; if it goes wrong, I will never forgive myself.  No pressure.

I haven’t heard of a single bad experience at your camp which would suggest to a normal parent that I have nothing to worry about.  However, I interpret this to mean that it’s statistically about time someone had a bad time and of course it will be my kids. I use the same logic when analyzing the fact that neither Noah nor Chase has been sick all summer (They are waiting until they get to camp to become deathly ill) or that the weather has been lovely for most of July. (It will rain for the ENTIRE time they are there.)  I have tried my best to keep my fears hidden in that place in my mind that the boys can’t see, but to which I treat my husband to regular tours.  The camp sent a letter encouraging parents to be positive with the kids.  They didn’t say anything about what we do with husbands.  Since Dave is not teaching in August, listening to his crazy wife is now his job.  Or should we say unpaid internship?  The next few weeks could end in our divorce… or a third child.  It is a complete toss up.  Stay tuned.

Anyway, I digress.  There are a few things you should know about my boys.  Noah is a creature of habit.  He likes knowing what’s around the next corner.  If he becomes nervous, he will ask you the same question more than once.  He is cool kid but sensitive to bullies as he had a bad experience at day camp last summer.   The last thing he wants to do is blow the whistle on someone so please keep an eye out for him as I will not be there to notice that his smile is forced and he is hurting inside.  He is frightened of loud thunderstorms.  Conversely, you will know all is well and he is having a great time when he performs his stand up routine which consists of incessantly repeating a series of YouTube parodies.  Feel free to gently suggest he get some new material.   We would appreciate that at home.

Chase is so happy go lucky that you might forget about him.  He’s that easy.  But if he feels he was wronged or a promise was broken, it’s hard for him to hold back the tears.  He is very much a homebody so he could be the first to crack.  He will try not to cry against all odds.  Sometimes you just have to tell him it’s ok to let it out.  And if you don’t understand a word he says, that’s ok.  Some times we don’t either.  Tell him to SLOW DOWN.  And please make sure he drinks water during the day.  When Chase gets dehydrated, he barfs, very well I might add.  I’ve never seen a kid recover quite so quickly from the cookie toss.  But I don’t recommend seeing this phenomenon yourself.  Think of him as a delicate plant with a wicked sense of humor.  Water often.

Listen.  My boys are sweet kids who just want to have fun and be loved.  And that is all I want for them.   I know it’s asking a great deal of you to love my children for the next 3 weeks and 6 days.  But since I am not allowed to come with them to camp can’t be there to love them, I’m asking you to take my place.  Just don’t do it better than me.  I want them to miss me a little.  I realize to you they are just two campers among hundreds for whom you are responsible.  But to me, they are everything.

Thanks for listening.

Sincerely,

Noah and Chase’s Mom

When last I left you MoB readers, I was standing outside my bathroom listening to Chase do his best rendition of Let My People Go in the shower.  I was then overcome with a horrible sense that Dave and I had just made an irreversible decision that would change us all.  Thanks to those readers who made guesses on the comments and in emails to me as to what that decision was.  No one got it right but as I went through some of the dire hypotheses as to what the situation might be, I started to think that maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing.  After all, we were not adopting an African baby or converting to another religion.  Maybe I am overreacting.  But isn’t that our job as parents?  To make a BIG huge deal out of nothing?  Here, I excel.

Last weekend we mailed the non-refundable check to send the boys away to sleepaway camp for four weeks this summer.  During that time in August, we will not be permitted to visit or talk directly to either of them.  And Dave and I will have only each other to talk to.  For four straight weeks.   Both realities scare the bejesus out of me.

I never thought I would send my kids away in the summer but I had heard some great things about Camp H in the Pocono Mountains.  And the boys were otherwise uncommitted at this point so a drive up the old PA turnpike to the camp open house was worth the trip.  Originally we thought this would be something that Noah would do this year and Chase would follow next year.  But that kid had such a smile on his face throughout the day, when we asked, “Chasey do you want to go to camp, too?”  we already knew the answer.  Truthfully, after seeing what they do up there for four weeks, I want to go!

Moms are not allowed.  I asked.

This camp is not for the designer crowd; it is rustic a la Meatballs (Hiiiii Mickey!), compete with a lake, pioneering, arts and crafts, and lots of sing alongs.  I am told by parents that your kids come home from Camp transformed (for the better) into more confident, more developed children.  I think that is a good thing because they will be returning to parents who will have regressed significantly in their absence.  Someone will have to take care of us.

But my worry meter began to inch up the moment I dropped the check in the mail.  What if they miss me?  What if they get sick?  What if they are bullied or unhappy and I AM NOT THERE TO SAVE them???  What if they can’t find their socks because these boys would lose their heads if they weren’t…

(I am now counting backwards from 10 and concentrating on my breathing.)

As with most parental angst, these worries are not about them and ALL about me.  I will miss them terribly but a mandatory snip of the apron strings might not be a bad thing for any of us.  As long as when they return I can tether them back to me from time to time.  If things go badly, they will curse us forever; if things go well we will have accelerated the inevitable thing called growing up.

Dave and I are blessed with jobs that allow us to send our kids to overnight camp.  We are doubly blessed that we have kids who are willing to try something new and exciting.  And we are triply blessed to have found a camp that is well run and seemingly committed to an all around great summer for our boys.  Why then do I feel as if I am sacrificing something here?

I guess because I am.  It’s called family.  But I’m willing to give it a try for the sake of experience and with the hope that we will all appreciate each other a little more come September.  I already do.

Noah and Chase and Camp H Open House 2009