Camp

A mom’s perspective on her son’s first overnight camp adventure

I woke up in the dark and immediately thought, “Is it time?” I clicked the light on my watch. It was 3:30 am, distinctly not yet time for us to go pick up our 11-year old from his first overnight camp. I had clearly been missing him, even more than I had realized.

Ten days prior, with his bag and backpack carefully packed, we waved goodbye as he cautiously walked into a room filled with new faces, friendly counselors and a bin of floss for making friendship bracelets. I teared up. He has been going to day camps during the summer for years, but this felt like a giant leap, not only for him but for us as a family. I fell back into a light sleep and the minutes ticked by.

We pulled up to see him donning a hat, his salmon-colored sun shirt emblazoned with a colorful fox (his patronus of the animal world), sandals and his camera slung over his shoulder. He looked easy, casual, seemed older. He gave us a huge smile and came running into a hug. My eyes welled as I held him for the first time in over a week.

This was definitely not our first time apart. Since he was three months old, I have traveled frequently for work and routinely said goodbye for 3 or 4 days at a time, but this time he had left to set out on his own adventure. He was old enough to handle himself, keep track of his belongings and navigate new relationships and experiences.

Over the next several hours of our reunion, words poured out of him. He told us about things he had learned - the Clark’s nutcracker and its importance for preserving the white bark pine tree. He talked us through setting up his tent in Yellowstone with a tent mate who had very different ideas of how precisely the poles and rainfly should be arranged. We heard about the team belay system on the high ropes course, and he described hikes to thermal features and waterfalls. He recounted the fun process of cafeteria dish duty and talked about his favorite (and not so favorite) meals. He showed us the souvenirs he had bought - all but one for his brother, which he couldn’t wait to deliver.

And when he stopped telling us about the things, he started sharing his emotions. It was as if he had peeled off the protective outer layer of a pice of fruit to reveal the soft, vulnerable inside. There were moments when his fellow campers hurt his feelings and made assumptions about him for being a “homeschool kid.” He told us about reading the notes we had hidden in his bag each night as he felt homesick and about the counselor who liked some of the same music as him. He told us about how this same counselor had named all her stuffed animals after different types of soda. This made him feel less self-conscious about the stuffies he had brought and kept hidden in his sleeping bag. He told us about the kids who thought he was inspirational and kind, and he told us about all the latest slang and TikTok memes. He played new songs for us that he had been introduced to on their long van rides.

All evening and into the next morning, he would sidle up to me and say, “Mama, I love you.” In these moments, I could feel his mind undulating with the feelings of independence from camp and the comfort of being back together as our family unit. These days had stretched him in so many ways. They had stretched me too.

Listening to him, I was transported back to my own childhood and felt the uncertainty, discomfort and excitement that comes from figuring out who you are and how you interact with the world. It is different as a parent. Having already lived it, you want to give your kids all of the lessons and experience that you’ve gained from the bumps and stumbles along the way. I try, but he has to live it too, and balancing between the two is a dance I am constantly learning and re-learning the steps to.

My growth started when we were getting ready for the trip. Combing through his packing list to ensure he had the long list of things required, he would occasionally come to an item and hesitate.

“One fitted sheet - do we have that?”

“We only have your old Star Wars one.”

“I’ll bring it, but I’m worried kids will make fun of me.”

What was my role in this moment? Star Wars can be cool no matter what age you are, right? But I remembered back to my own 11-year old days and thought about how unpredictable middle schoolers can be. Now, as he was about to set out into new territory on so many levels, might not be the time for me to dig in and tell him to be confident and not care what people think.

“Let’s go to Walmart and you can pick one out.”

Relief flooded his face, and we had a blast picking out the color that felt best and tootling around the travel toiletries section.

In that moment, I felt like I had strung together the right combination of steps in this parent-son dance. Phew!

This camp felt like a significant waypoint in life’s adventure.

Learning to be on your own
Figuring out how to let go
Holding space for new experiences
Remaining true to who you are
Balancing homesickness with sticking it out
And
Experiencing the joy of reconnection, made all the more sweet because of an interim away.

These moments of kids growing up are rites all parents passage. You watch them in movies, read about them in books and share experiences through friends and family who have children older than your own. Like all things, the intimacy of experiencing them for yourself is different. No matter how much you know about how fast it goes or how it might feel, to feel these moments is personal, raw and emotional.

Reunited, I hugged him tightly and kissed his head that barely fits in the nook of my neck beneath my chin (he is getting so tall!). I stood there relishing the fact that this camp adventure was just 10 days. For now, he is back with us, and I can take some time to process how I will chart this next phase of parental growth as my kids expand their independent adventures.