Parenting Sabbatical
"Mommy," Charlie asked a few days ago, "What if I'm sick on Tuesday? Will I still go to camp?" Up to this point all my nine year old had talked about was how excited he was to go away to camp because his dad and I wouldn't be there to tell him what to do. My stomach knotted up when he asked this question. Was this normal pre-camp jitters, or was he "planning" to get sick so that he wouldn't be able to go? Since I wasn't sure I simply answered the question.
"If you feel sick on Tuesday, you will stay home and we will take you to camp when you're feeling better." I held my breath for his response.
"Okay," he said casually, and that was it. He asked a simple question and wanted an answer that would let him know what he could expect; typical of him. I allowed everything I knew about my son to go out the window when he asked about camp because the truth is: I was anxious. Last summer he wanted to go and Richard and I didn't think he was ready, and we weren't ready either. His sister Tali started going at eight and a half and that was because she begged us to send her with her cousin. Charlie is our baby, and, an entirely different kind of child. He goes to school with a back pack full of completed homework, a lunch box with a variety of foods, a library book to return and anything else that is supposed to either be delivered or consumed at school. He will come home with the same full back pack. At various day camps around the peninsula there are items of Charlie's in the lost and found. When he slept at a friend's house recently he left his toothbrush there and lost his socks. When he feels left out or isn't involved in a structured activity, he tries to get attention any way he can, which of course is not always positive attention. He climbs into our bed in the middle of the night at least three times a week. How would he survive at camp without us and at least one of his teachers? Would Tali be nice to him? Would she steer him in the right direction? Was this an experience our son would simply not have as we both had?
He grew up a lot this past school year. Towards the end he was remembering to deliver items to school and was eating his lunch at the designated time. He was apologizing on his own when he and another boy had issues which thankfully were only verbal and not physical. He was very well liked in his class and had fun with his friends. His baseball skills improved and he learned good sportsmanship. We worked hard as a family to get him to a place where he could focus on his academic success rather than worry about negative behavior.
We decided to send him. Tali helped prepare him by telling him all about the food and activities. She warned him that he would have to sit through services (prayers) for a short time during the week and longer on Shabbat. She knew this would be hard for him, but she told him that everyone else would be doing it too. She talked to him about baseball, swimming , and how fun the camp-out would be. She taught him camp songs. Tali told him so many things that he finally told her he was done hearing about Camp Ramah.
Charlie took little interest in what clothes he would take to camp thankfully. He helped me put everything in zip lock bags with labels on them. As he dropped them in his duffel bag I asked him to read each label which he did flawlessly. His only input consisted of, "I'll take my old baseball team hats because if I lose them it doesn't matter."
Tali picked out her clothes and I helped jam them into her luggage. I was instructed not to put a name label on her socks because it makes them uncomfortable, other than that she was on her own. Just as I was getting both kids in bed to get a good night's sleep before their early flight, she announced that she needed two pillows. "One isn't enough, I won't sleep the whole time if I just have one!" We got into a yelling match which ended with stuffing one pillow into one of her bags and the agreement that she'd carry the other one on the plane. I suspect what this was really about was, "I"m going to miss you and Daddy, so let's get in a big fight and then I'll be glad I'm leaving you." It worked for all of us, although I instantly felt heartbroken after she fell asleep.
The next morning I found Charlie in bed next to me when the alarm went off at 5am. He got up, dressed and ate breakfast and was ready to go by 5:30. Tali was barely out of bed. We all got out the door at 6am and Tali, completely recovered from last night's pillow crisis, entertained Charlie the entire 25 minute ride to the airport. They were both giggling incessantly, which Richard and I savored since we wouldn't hear those giggles for a while. Tali reminded us (as she did daily) that she was excited to see her camp friends, two of whom lived in other states.
We stayed until the plane took off, knowing our kids were in good hands with my cousin who was flying as the chaperon. We were confident in her abilities to maintain order during the one hour flight.
Tali clung to each of us before getting on the plane with a dramatic, "I'm going to miss you so much!" Charlie looked straight ahead and only hugged us when he was reminded to and said sweetly, "I'm going to miss you." "I'm going to miss you too Charlie, " I said, holding back my tears, "but you are going to have a GREAT time!"
Richard dragged me away and thus began our parenting sabbatical that would end in two weeks when Charlie would come home (Tali is staying for a month). I don't think I took another breath until my cousin sent us pictures of the kids at baggage claim at LAX. I then held my breath again until the parent liaison called me and told me Charlie was doing "just fine."
That night I read an article about summer camp: http://www.summer365.com/magic-tricks-summer-camp/. While my last summer at camp was 25 years ago, I can recall examples of each of the 10 magic tricks of summer camp. The 11th one I would add is independence. While we help our children pack ,once they get there they have to put everything away, make their bed, clean their area everyday, complete whatever cleaning job they are given for the good of the bunk, help set and clear the table, learn the lay of the land, shower and change their underwear, keep track of their toiletries, and solve ALL their own problems. I'll never forget the cereal problem at camp. Each bunk had to take turns setting all the tables for meals. In those days kids were allowed to have junky cereal for breakfast but there were only a few boxes of it, everyone else had cheerios. In order to secure a box of our favorite cereal a friend and I hid the box behind a set of curtains. If we'd left it out on the table we risked another bunk snatching it and replacing it with cheerios. Our scheme worked, we solved our own problem! One could argue that we learned to be sneaky and conniving, and they wouldn't be wrong. However we also learned to work together and be creative. We giggled and enjoyed our new inside joke. This made us feel like family, and how could you be homesick when your family was at camp?
I had a wonderful childhood, and camp was part of that. When it was time to leave I was sad, but I couldn't wait to see my parents and sleep in my own bed. When Tali came home last summer the first thing she said upon entering her bedroom was, "Ahhh, it's so nice to have my own space." She used to complain that her room wasn't big enough. After sharing a small space with 15 other girls she appreciates all she has. This summer she is once again ready to go back and share a small space again for a month long slumber party.
Many children will never experience sleep-away camp, it's not for everyone. All our kids will have different experiences that will shape them into wonderful adults. I credit sleep-away camp for shaping me and I know it will shape my children in ways that won't become clear until much later.
Charlie and Tali have now been gone for three and a half days. Now that I'm through the anxiety and have had some rest and time to myself the emotion I'm feeling is pride. As I picture my son's face when I last saw him and feel my daughter's arms around me I know I am blessed. My children are physically and emotionally healthy enough to go off on this great adventure together. They are their own little independent beings and while I've had something to do with that, they are who they are, and I'm so lucky they are mine.
"If you feel sick on Tuesday, you will stay home and we will take you to camp when you're feeling better." I held my breath for his response.
"Okay," he said casually, and that was it. He asked a simple question and wanted an answer that would let him know what he could expect; typical of him. I allowed everything I knew about my son to go out the window when he asked about camp because the truth is: I was anxious. Last summer he wanted to go and Richard and I didn't think he was ready, and we weren't ready either. His sister Tali started going at eight and a half and that was because she begged us to send her with her cousin. Charlie is our baby, and, an entirely different kind of child. He goes to school with a back pack full of completed homework, a lunch box with a variety of foods, a library book to return and anything else that is supposed to either be delivered or consumed at school. He will come home with the same full back pack. At various day camps around the peninsula there are items of Charlie's in the lost and found. When he slept at a friend's house recently he left his toothbrush there and lost his socks. When he feels left out or isn't involved in a structured activity, he tries to get attention any way he can, which of course is not always positive attention. He climbs into our bed in the middle of the night at least three times a week. How would he survive at camp without us and at least one of his teachers? Would Tali be nice to him? Would she steer him in the right direction? Was this an experience our son would simply not have as we both had?
He grew up a lot this past school year. Towards the end he was remembering to deliver items to school and was eating his lunch at the designated time. He was apologizing on his own when he and another boy had issues which thankfully were only verbal and not physical. He was very well liked in his class and had fun with his friends. His baseball skills improved and he learned good sportsmanship. We worked hard as a family to get him to a place where he could focus on his academic success rather than worry about negative behavior.
We decided to send him. Tali helped prepare him by telling him all about the food and activities. She warned him that he would have to sit through services (prayers) for a short time during the week and longer on Shabbat. She knew this would be hard for him, but she told him that everyone else would be doing it too. She talked to him about baseball, swimming , and how fun the camp-out would be. She taught him camp songs. Tali told him so many things that he finally told her he was done hearing about Camp Ramah.
Charlie took little interest in what clothes he would take to camp thankfully. He helped me put everything in zip lock bags with labels on them. As he dropped them in his duffel bag I asked him to read each label which he did flawlessly. His only input consisted of, "I'll take my old baseball team hats because if I lose them it doesn't matter."
Tali picked out her clothes and I helped jam them into her luggage. I was instructed not to put a name label on her socks because it makes them uncomfortable, other than that she was on her own. Just as I was getting both kids in bed to get a good night's sleep before their early flight, she announced that she needed two pillows. "One isn't enough, I won't sleep the whole time if I just have one!" We got into a yelling match which ended with stuffing one pillow into one of her bags and the agreement that she'd carry the other one on the plane. I suspect what this was really about was, "I"m going to miss you and Daddy, so let's get in a big fight and then I'll be glad I'm leaving you." It worked for all of us, although I instantly felt heartbroken after she fell asleep.
The next morning I found Charlie in bed next to me when the alarm went off at 5am. He got up, dressed and ate breakfast and was ready to go by 5:30. Tali was barely out of bed. We all got out the door at 6am and Tali, completely recovered from last night's pillow crisis, entertained Charlie the entire 25 minute ride to the airport. They were both giggling incessantly, which Richard and I savored since we wouldn't hear those giggles for a while. Tali reminded us (as she did daily) that she was excited to see her camp friends, two of whom lived in other states.
We stayed until the plane took off, knowing our kids were in good hands with my cousin who was flying as the chaperon. We were confident in her abilities to maintain order during the one hour flight.
Tali clung to each of us before getting on the plane with a dramatic, "I'm going to miss you so much!" Charlie looked straight ahead and only hugged us when he was reminded to and said sweetly, "I'm going to miss you." "I'm going to miss you too Charlie, " I said, holding back my tears, "but you are going to have a GREAT time!"
Richard dragged me away and thus began our parenting sabbatical that would end in two weeks when Charlie would come home (Tali is staying for a month). I don't think I took another breath until my cousin sent us pictures of the kids at baggage claim at LAX. I then held my breath again until the parent liaison called me and told me Charlie was doing "just fine."
That night I read an article about summer camp: http://www.summer365.com/magic-tricks-summer-camp/. While my last summer at camp was 25 years ago, I can recall examples of each of the 10 magic tricks of summer camp. The 11th one I would add is independence. While we help our children pack ,once they get there they have to put everything away, make their bed, clean their area everyday, complete whatever cleaning job they are given for the good of the bunk, help set and clear the table, learn the lay of the land, shower and change their underwear, keep track of their toiletries, and solve ALL their own problems. I'll never forget the cereal problem at camp. Each bunk had to take turns setting all the tables for meals. In those days kids were allowed to have junky cereal for breakfast but there were only a few boxes of it, everyone else had cheerios. In order to secure a box of our favorite cereal a friend and I hid the box behind a set of curtains. If we'd left it out on the table we risked another bunk snatching it and replacing it with cheerios. Our scheme worked, we solved our own problem! One could argue that we learned to be sneaky and conniving, and they wouldn't be wrong. However we also learned to work together and be creative. We giggled and enjoyed our new inside joke. This made us feel like family, and how could you be homesick when your family was at camp?
I had a wonderful childhood, and camp was part of that. When it was time to leave I was sad, but I couldn't wait to see my parents and sleep in my own bed. When Tali came home last summer the first thing she said upon entering her bedroom was, "Ahhh, it's so nice to have my own space." She used to complain that her room wasn't big enough. After sharing a small space with 15 other girls she appreciates all she has. This summer she is once again ready to go back and share a small space again for a month long slumber party.
Many children will never experience sleep-away camp, it's not for everyone. All our kids will have different experiences that will shape them into wonderful adults. I credit sleep-away camp for shaping me and I know it will shape my children in ways that won't become clear until much later.
Charlie and Tali have now been gone for three and a half days. Now that I'm through the anxiety and have had some rest and time to myself the emotion I'm feeling is pride. As I picture my son's face when I last saw him and feel my daughter's arms around me I know I am blessed. My children are physically and emotionally healthy enough to go off on this great adventure together. They are their own little independent beings and while I've had something to do with that, they are who they are, and I'm so lucky they are mine.
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