Stepping Back In Time

Each year around this time, my household prepares for sleep away camp. The Princess and Banana Girl have been going to camp since their summers before third grade. At this point, we pretty much have packing down to a science and they have perfected the art of waiting as long as possible—each year waiting slightly longer—before shopping, labeling and packing. I’ve given up complaining or stressing because a) I know it will get done and b) they’re the ones who will be naked if they wait too long.

One of the best parts of summer camp is the no electronics policy. No phones or phone-like technology is allowed. This means that my girls learned to write letters, adjusted to the foreign notion that a letter written and mailed will NOT get an instant reply, and have been forced to solve their own problems (like how to avoid bears), since even if they ask me what to do I’m unable to give them an immediate solution.

They’ve also learned to entertain themselves the old fashioned way—reading, making string bracelets, paper crafts, and MadLibs. Basically, while my husband declares a childfree summer is like going back to 1998, for them, it’s like going back to the 1970s.

The lack of electronics teaches them to be present and to live in the moment. Their conversations aren’t constantly interrupted by texts and SnapChats. They don’t multitask and converse with camp friends and home friends, while picking the perfect filter for their Instagram. They focus on the person in front of them. They are free to be themselves without worrying that what they say or do, or how they look, will be memorialized forever in cyberspace.

And they love it.

Stepping back in time this way allows all of us to look back fondly at a more innocent time and transport some of those lessons from the past into the present or even the future. And this year, the time slip is even more bittersweet, as The Princess will be a counselor and Banana Girl a CIT. For the first time, they can take their love of camp—and their power-down habits that they’ve cultivated and grown to love—and teach them to their campers. 

Buying stamps at the post office (the new scratch-and-sniff ones, of course!) and picking out stationery takes on an added meaning when I consider the piles of letters I’ve saved since their first days of camp. Now they’ll be writing as staff, looking at their campers and passing on their knowledge of how to write a letter (you’d be surprised how tough this is).

The journals they keep during the summer connect feelings from one year to the next and provide a written record of how they’ve grown and changed—of course, I’m making an assumption, since I’ve never read them and for all I know they write about things I really don’t want hear about (like boys!!!), but I’m going to stay in my bubble and imagine my own story here.

Even the photos they take get printed and hung in their rooms. And while I often wish for them to experience boredom, which is impossible at camp when you’re running nonstop from breakfast to bedtime, the basic lessons they’re learning about who they are and what they want are invaluable.

And maybe this year, they’ll be able to pass some of them along to their own campers.

Adventures at Day Camp

Well, the good news is that there are no bears at camp. At least, none that The Princess has told me about. Considering she comes home and tells me the interesting things that happen at camp each day, I assume I’d hear about a bear. So, yay!

Hearing about camp adventures daily is new to me. At sleep away camp, they’re not allowed to use their phones, so they have to write actual letters. And address them, stamp them and mail them. Which means I don’t hear a lot about what goes on. But since she comes home each day and I’m waiting for her (and she’s too exhausted to run away from me), I hear about her day.

Here are some highlights:

The letter tzadik (among other Hebrew letters) was missing. She found it. Good to know she learned something in Hebrew school.

After a year of being “too cool” to take the bus, she’s back on it. My gas bills are going down.

Her apparent superpower is making three-year-olds stop crying. Not a bad superpower to have.

Meanwhile at home, I’ve found a stash of her stuff she never unpacked from her years of sleep away camp. Yes, YEARS!

She is very loud. I’ve always known this, but this means my summer is not the quiet, relaxing time I’m used to.

Just when I thought all the swim laundry from swim team was done, there’s MORE!

She came home with a cow—no not a real one (I would have led with that!)—as the prize for being Counselor Of the Week (C-O-W, get it?). It’s cute, and now is one more thing taking up room on my kitchen counter.

Let The Summer Begin

Well, summer has officially started for me, which means it’s time to post about camp. I’d post about Banana Girl’s trip to Israel, except the packing is finally done and there is no risk of bears there—other, scarier things, which would not sound funny at all and will only keep me up at night—so I’m going to assume she’s safe, smart and having a great time.

The Princess, however, is spending the summer at a camp. Not her camp, since the dates don’t gel well with graduation and leaving for college, but a different camp. A day camp. The last time we did day camp, she was tiny. These days, she’s older and bossier, which means she gets to be a counselor.

The good news is that I get at least some of my summer freedom as she’s gone from 8:00 am to 5:00 pm daily. I didn’t have to spend the last week and a half convincing her to label and pack her stuff. We didn’t have to shove anything into our car and transport everything out to bear country. And I don’t have to sit in front of my computer hitting “refresh” to spot her ponytail in the camp photos and wonder if she’s been eaten by bears.

The bad news is that I have to cook, paying attention to the food she likes as opposed to our usual “it’s summer, the kids are away and we can finally eat what we want” plan. I have to be aware of her plans, and coordinate my plans around her. But it’s her last summer before college and part of me is looking forward to having her around.

The bad news for her is that she gets to witness the “fun” summer projects I take on and participate in them—cleaning out her closets, getting ready for college, cleaning out the bathroom cabinets, and other exceedingly fun things like that.

I’m looking forward to finding out how day camp differs from sleep away camp. Especially because the bears only come out at night, after she’s home, right?

Piggy And Baby Gone Bad

I’m trying to work on my camp communication skills.

You see, each year it’s a struggle to keep in touch with the kids while they’re away at camp. I like to write them every day or almost every day, because I want them to get mail. I know they look forward to the mail arriving and I want to make sure they get something from me on a regular basis.

However, I’m not really that interesting. There are only so many questions I can ask about camp (most of which are not getting answered) and only so many things I can tell them about my day, without repeating myself. This year, it’s especially difficult because one is now allowed to text and we communicate often—okay, mostly it involves, “Mom, can you send me…” but at least I know she’s alive and hasn’t been eaten by a bear. The other one warned me she wasn’t going to write and I haven’t heard a thing from her. The only thing keeping me from going off the deep end is that I see her in photos.

So this year, I decided to do something different. I don’t want to be “that mom” who texts constantly. I want the Princess to have as much freedom as she wants, free from having to check in. Not to mention, the more I text, the more chances she has to ask for food or other items. But I did want to perhaps provide a little amusement, and maybe spark some sort of reaction.

I started taking photographs. Both kids have guys they sleep with, and both kids left them home. So, stealing from the Elf on the Shelf friends, I have been posing them and photographing them. For Princess, who’s allowed to have her phone with her, I’ve been sending her “Fun photos of the day.” For Banana Girl, I’ve been printing and mailing them, in the hopes of eliciting some sort of response and maybe getting a letter in return.

I have not yet gotten a letter. I have, however, gotten return “Fun photos of the day” from the Princess, which tells me more about what she’s doing than if I asked her directly. And my adult friends, who see my posts on Facebook or Instagram, seem to be enjoying my endeavors.

I’d like to thank all my Christian friends who have made Elf on the Shelf part of their Christmas tradition, because you have inspired me to create something while my kids are at camp. I’d also like to thank my few chosen “Elf on the Shelf Gone Bad” friends for their wacky sense of humor, which has allowed me to expand upon my own creativity and truly make my project complete.

Things might be getting a little out of hand.

Even when the kids are gone, I can't shower in peace!

Entertaining themselves.

Who do you miss more?

Mmm, bacon!

It Has Begun

I am in packing hell, only I seem to be the only one who recognizes the rings and who feels the flames licking her feet.

Sleep away camp is Wednesday and the Israel trip is Sunday. And my living room is empty.

My living room is where we put the drawers and bags and bins that hold the items we’re packing. Nothing is out.

Laundry has barely been started. And the laundry that has been done is going to have to be redone because we still have to look good in these last few days before everyone leaves—even though NO ONE is going to see us.

Labeling. Well, labeling has been started by one child, but not the other. At least, I think it has, as I keep finding an open Sharpie on the rug.

We’re figuring out conversions between dollars and shekels and finding budgeting apps for the iPhone. Budgeting? What’s that?

The weight limit is 50 pounds for checking baggage. Obviously, the people who set this don’t have teenaged girls. Nor, does it seem, do any of the organizers of the trip. Every time I turn around, there are more requests for additional shoes. Hiking boots, sneakers, water shoes, sandals, rain boots.

Teen: “Mom, I don’t need all of those?”
Me (trying to figure out why, for the first time in her life, she’s arguing against bringing shoes): “No? Have you ever been to these countries? Because the organizers say you do, and I’m inclined to listen to them.”
Teen: “Don’t worry about it, I really don’t need all that stuff.”

I hope she’s right, because if we do pack all of those shoes, they’re going to take up 48 pounds, leaving her about 2 for her clothing. Which means she’ll either have one pair of shorts and a T-shirt for the entire trip, or she’s going to be very well heeled, but naked, and cause an international incident.

I keep walking around, suggesting perhaps it might be a good idea to get started packing and everyone looks at me like I’m crazy.

Which I am. And it’s their fault!

A Day in the Life of a Crazy Camp Mom

5:43 am: Wakes up with heart pounding from nightmare of child being eaten by bears. Tries to wake husband—he grunts. Scours news reports and social media. Doesn’t see anything about bears eating children, but does see reports of traffic pileups and some weird picture of Paula Deen.

6:15 am: Checks camp website for blogs about area wildlife and photos of child. Finds 67 pictures of fireworks (black sky, fuzzy multi-colored blobs, no people). Asks now-awake husband about likelihood of bears eating children. He pants out, “Go to sleep” as he exercises.

6:35 am: Scours website looking for information about how early she can call camp to ask about bears. “Not before 9,” mumbles husband as he shaves.

7:15 am: Gets distracted by friends during dog walk. Halfway through 3.5 mile walk, is reminded that child will be going on 30 mile hike with bunk. Dictates reminders into phone—check for bears, make sure counselors will enforce buddy system and bug spray.

8:30 am: Returns home sweaty. Is camper getting dehydrated? Adds to note. Makes breakfast. What is camper eating? Wonders if they will help campers all get even amounts of cereal, because it’s not fair if someone hogs all the Wheaties.

9:00 am: Races out of shower, with shampoo still in hair to call camp. Asks Camp Mom about bears, hike, buddy system, bug spray and breakfast. Not sure why Camp Mom sounded confused—these are perfectly normal questions, aren’t they?

9:42 am: Finishes dressing and wonders what child is wearing. Checks for photos, but none are posted.

10:02 am: While doing errands, wonders if child was woken up this morning. Wouldn’t want child to miss out on the fun. Calls camp from car and asks Camp Mom to check to see if child was left accidentally in bunk. Camp Mom says the entire bunk has already woken up, cleaned the cabin, eaten breakfast and are almost finished swimming, so not to worry, child is up.

11:23 am: Returns from grocery shopping and realizes she has no idea if swimming ended or if her child drowned. Runs to computer and finds a few pictures posted. None of her child. Several of best friend’s. Calls best friend. Best friend laughs. Puts groceries away while deciding whether or not to call Camp Mom.

12:31 pm: Finishes lunch while continuously refreshing camp photo page. Still no pics of child. Calls Camp Mom. Camp Mom isn’t available. Waits for call-back.

1:43 pm: Receives call from Camp Mom and is reassured child has not drowned. Asks for Camp Mom’s cell phone so she can get her questions asked right away and so that Camp Mom doesn’t have to interrupt her own activities. Is refused. Considers calling Camp Director.

2:30 pm: Checks camp photos again. Nothing new posted. Calls camp to complain about photographer.

3:47 pm: Checks camp photos again. Several photos of child, including one with child and Camp Mom, child holding sign “Hi Mom!” Calls Camp Mom to tell her that’s not her child’s shirt and ask why.

4:12 pm: After researching all potential diseases one can get from sharing clothing, writes letter to child asking her not to share her clothes. Asks why child has not written in two days and when she does write, why she doesn’t answer any questions.

5:30 pm: Starts cooking dinner. Checks camp Facebook page and sees menu posted. “Yellow Meal.” What is that and why is it yellow? Calls Camp Mom and leaves message.

6:13 pm: Camp Mom calls back and assures her that the Yellow Meal is a camp favorite and it’s not served all the time. Ask Camp Mom if the corn in the yellow meal is on the cob or not, because child’s teeth get sore eating off the cob (braces and all). Camp Mom must have dropped phone, because there is a dial tone. Must be because camp is located in the middle of nowhere.

7:30 pm: Checks camp photos again and sees pictures of large group of smiling kids. Child is on the end. Why is child on the end? Husband distracts her and she can’t call Camp Mom.

8:02 pm: No longer distracted and wondering what is going on at camp, calls Camp Mom again. Told Camp Mom is busy with evening activities and will call later. Later? Who is going to tuck in my child for bed???

9:30 pm: Camp Mom calls. Child’s braces are fine—it was loose corn. Child is happy and was standing next to best friend, who happened to be at the end of the group of kids. Kids are not going to bed yet.

10:27 pm: Checks photos one last time and tells husband she wants to call Camp Mom to find out when kids are going to bed. Child needs sleep for such a busy day. Husband hides all phones.