Tag: Sleep Away Camp

  • Summer Camp and Growing Up

    The wife and I got back from dropping the kid off at her all girls Summer camp. It’s a sleep away camp and she loves it. I can honestly say that she looks forward to it all year. When she gets home from camp, we get a month, or maybe two, before she starts talking about how she can’t wait to go back.

    This year, unlike the previous two, the kid wanted me and the wife to come into camp, so she could show us around, and this way, we’d know what she was experiencing, and put a place to the locations she had told us about. You see, the two previous summers, the kid has wanted to go into camp alone, and do it all by herself. We were and still are, all for her independence and if this is the healthy way that she starts to break away from us, we’re all for it. Still hurts a little – we want her to still need us, but the right thing is that she needs to become her own person, independent of us.

    So, this year when she wanted us to come in, we were a tad taken aback. We weren’t going to say no to this invitation, but still a little surprised that the third year in, now she wanted us to see it.

    Growing up in Texas, I barely knew anyone who went to a sleep away Summer camp. There were Boy Scout and Girl Scout camps, but those usually took place over a three-day weekend, and were about getting badges and stuff. Sleep away camp was about having fun, or at least that’s what TV and movies made it look like. Besides, sleep away camp seemed to be something that only happened in the Northeast. Down in Texas, we spent three months sleeping in, watching tv, riding bikes through the neighborhood, and playing until dinner time. Oh, and trying to stay out of trouble.

    So, I was curious what camp is like.

    And what I learned from my daughter was nothing. I could see it dawn on her as we parked the car and started to cross over the river to get to the camp that she had made a mistake bringing us. She got all tense, wouldn’t talk (and our kid loves to talk), and when we did ask her a question, she would only give us one-word answers. She wasn’t behaving like herself. When we got to her tent, a group of her friends came running up to her, and they all started hugging, laughing, and talking about what they had been up to – the kid returned to her normal self. She is a good kid and pulled away from her friends to show us her tent and we helped set up her bed, but the wife and I could feel her was desperate to get back to her friends. So, we gave her a hug and a kiss, told her to have fun, and watched her run off to her friends.

    I still have no idea what the camp is like.

    Which isn’t true, as the councilors and the staff were great and did show us around, and made us feel very welcome. But I didn’t get to see the camp from the kid’s perspective.

    And as the wife and I drove back to New York, I told my her my theory why it was a mistake to bring us into camp. See, I get that kids want to share stuff with their parents, and our kid is no different. But that camp, for the past two years, had just been hers. We had dropped her off, and she crossed that river by herself, and everything we knew about camp, she had to tell us. We stayed on one side, and she got to go to the other. It was her private place that only she knew about, that she had experienced alone – it was her thing, not ours. I think she had her first realization that in life there are some things you don’t want to share. That you want to keep all for yourself.

    That’s true for me. There are things that I have experienced that are mine. That I hold onto and I cherish. They’re not nefarious experiences; they’re just mine, and they make me happy.

    The kid is beginning to build those memories for herself now. Which is good. She’s growing up.

  • Road Trip Thoughts, Part Two (Unedited)

    When I woke up Saturday morning, the first thing I did was text the wife to see how she was doing. She was happy to report that the medication had started to take effect, and she was feeling much better. Maybe she could have made the trip, but out of caution, I knew we had made the right call to have her stay home.

    I cleaned up and went down to the lobby for my complementary free breakfast. To my surprise, at 8am, the lobby was packed, and not to be rude, packed with retirees. There must have been some gathering happening that weekend because a good number of the men all had the same t-shirt on, though there weren’t any words identifying what organization they belonged to.

    Seeing these older people, I wondered what type of retired guy I will be like. Having witnessed my grandfather and father’s retirements, what I observed is that they weren’t very social. They had hobbies and read all the time, but neither of them belonged to some “group” that did things. They were solitary men, and as I thought about it, that seemed correct for me as well. But maybe I would travel. Go from one budget hotel to another; seeing America in a very comfortable and affordable way. Staying right off the highway, and not venturing into town.

    I checked out, and fueled up the car. I sat in the parking lot and called the wife. She confirmed that she was feeling better, and we were both excited about having the kid back. We didn’t talk for too long; the wife still needed to rest, and I was excited to pick up the kid.

    I was only an hour and a half from the camp, and the drive was a peaceful, leisurely one that took me up into the Appalachian Mountains. I was anxious to see my daughter, yet there was this feeling that kept creeping over me – a feeling that I wasn’t living up to some standard that I had in my head of the type of father I need to be. It was failure. I felt like I have been failing as a dad, not giving my daughter what she needs to be a strong woman in this world. I have no idea where this thought was coming from, why at that moment of driving to pick her up that I felt that I wasn’t doing my job as a dad.

    Too much time alone with my thoughts can be dangerous. Honestly, I couldn’t remember when the last time I had almost two days alone to myself. Without someone to talk to, I descended into my thoughts, and I’m not very kind to myself. I have been working on that; being kinder to myself. Telling myself that these negative thoughts aren’t very helpful. I will be kinder to myself, and not so critical. Not that I do that, but I have been thinking about making this change.

    The camp is off a little single lane road. There was a check point where I had to show my ID, verifying that I was the kid’s father. But I was fifteen minutes early, so they had me pull into a small parking lot to wait my turn. Now, this was the worst part – so close to getting the kid. I was ready for her to be dirty, and smell bad because it was an outdoor camp, and she was free to be dirty and smelly, and have the best time as possible. I was sure her hair would be wild and tangled, and she would be taller, and tan, and happier and more confident than she’s been in a long time. I was getting excited about how great of a time she had had.

    Then we were given the all clear, and it was time for us parents to get our kids. What that really meant was that we all got our cars to line up and slowly drive into camp. And the excitement kept building in me.

    And this was another moment in my life where I was taken aback by my emotions. I thought I knew what I would feel, but what I felt was stronger and more sweeping than I knew I had in me. I was going to burst – bust in tears, laughter, scream – something was going to give way. I was barely holding on, only slightly in control of my emotions. The last time I felt like this was when I found out about my mother’s cancer diagnosis – and I was angry, and depressed, forlorn, and hopeless – and at any whim, I was overcome and I wasn’t able to control myself. And I just felt, and it came pouring out of me, just a river (a flood) of emotions and feeling – a raw live wire. At least this time, sitting in my car, waiting my turn to get my daughter, it was joy happiness and love that were bursting to come out.

    See, you’re not supposed to get out of your car when you get your kid from this camp. Pick up there is like an assembly line, which makes sense. They greet you at the first stop, then you get your kids trunk at the next stop, and the final stop is that you kid jumps into your car, and then you are on your way. Hence why you stay in your car.

    When I got to the “get you kid” stop, I hopped out of my car, and was quickly yelled at by the councilors to get back in. Oops. The kid jumped into the car and asked, “Where’s the dog?” I didn’t get a “Hi, Dad” or nothing. She didn’t even ask for her mother. So, the dog was the big winner. Anyway, I enplaned to the kid that mom was sick, and I left the dog with her. The kid said I could have still brought the dog.

    I drove out of camp, but first I pulled back into the waiting parking lot. I got out of the car, and told the kid to do the same, because I was hugging my daughter, damn it! I was going to hug the stinky, wild haired, mosquito bitten, summer tanned kid that I love more than love itself. I just wanted to hug her. “I missed you,” I said to her, with a catch in my throat.

    “I love you, dad” She said back. And then added, “Are we on a father/daughter adventure?”

    “Yes, we are.” My heart exploded a little, for I was in this moment. Keenly aware that this was a memory, an experience, I was creating; one that I would think back on, hold on to, remind myself of when life gets hard. A new core memory for me.

  • Road Trip Thoughts, Part One (Unedited)

    This has been a very hectic two weeks in my life. It was supposed to be relaxing and fun, but ending up being more taxing than I wanted, and it has left me rethinking where I am going and what I am doing with my life.

    To explain; the kid had been at sleep away camp, and we needed to go and pick her up.

    Won’t lie, it’s exciting to have the kid go away for a couple of weeks. Not that me and the wife did anything crazy. (We did repaint our bedroom. Whoa!) But it is nice to have some time just the two of us, to remember that we did have a life before becoming parents, and that we do like spending time together. The other fun part is that about three or four days before we head out to pick up the kid, we start heartbreakingly missing the kid like a bunch of sad puppies. More than once I found myself saying that I just want my kid back.

    The drive down south to get the kid is also the last Act of Summer in our household, as she starts school a week after we pick her up. So, this is a read trip that me and the wife look forward to.

    Except this year the wife go sick on the Wednesday night before we were to leave on Friday. No matter how much we wished, and tried, she wasn’t going to be well enough to travel. I was going to have to do this on my own.

    It has been over twenty years since I was alone on a car trip. Twenty years ago, I’d fill the car with gas, buy a Coke and a pack of cigarettes, grab my cd’s and head out. No cigarettes this time around, and I grabbed a water, and no cd’s as I made a playlist on Spotify, but it was pretty much the same. But lonelier. I liked listening to my music, but there wasn’t anyone to talk to. Just me, thinking about everything that I had happened in the last several years.

    Thought a lot about my mom’s death, and how I find myself getting angry at her now, and that makes me feel guilty as her son. I thought about my failures as a father, and not doing the best job at being a good provider for the kid. I feel secure in my marriage, I worry sometimes that we should be doing better at buying a home, or saving for the kid’s college, or retirement. I’m almost fifty, and will I ever be being gainfully employed? Is this writing thing just a delusion, and I am avoiding being responsible?

    And then I saw that I was passing close to the Antietam Battlefield. I’m a Civil War buff, when will I ever be alone again to explore this in my full nerd-out glory? Odds are never.

    So, I headed to the Battlefield. I still had a kid to pick up, so I promised myself that I was only going to stay for an hour. With limited time, I thought it best to head to the part of the battle I was most curious about, which was the Bloody Lane section. Oh, and it was like one hundred degrees outside. I always have a feeling of uneasy eeriness when I visit battlefields, because now they are all pastoral, and silent with very few people around – and I know as I walk that this was a place where thousands of men died, in horrible ways. That so much pain and suffering happened where I was walking. But there is also the grim understanding that a place like this is what allows me to live in the country I proudly call home. It was a humbling place to be, somber in its reality.

    True to my word, I kept it to an hour, and was back on the road.

    I made it to my hotel, a nice, newly built, budget friendly place. It was nice and clean, and I’m not a very fancy guy, so it was great for me. There was a burrito place within walking distance of the hotel, so dinner was fast. I called the wife to check on her, and fell asleep looking forward to seeing the kid in the morning.

  • Inability to Relax

    I should be relaxing. Taking it easy. Kicking back. Not thinking about anything.

    See, this kid is gone to sleep away camp, which means half of my work load is gone. The wife still has to work, and there are things that I want to do, like projects around the house and stuff. But my wife keeps telling me that I should take, you know, relax, and allow myself to enjoy not having as many responsibilities this week.

    Except, I am having trouble doing that.

    First of all, I am having a little anxiety with the kid going to camp. And it’s separation anxiety on my part. It will be gone in a day or two, as the kid leaving is rather recent. (This is a blog for another day.) Suffice to say, I’m excited that she went to camp as I know this will help build her independence giving her an experience that is all her own, and in the end, that’s what I want for her.

    No, what I am talking about is that if I sit around and do nothing; watch tv all day, sleep in, play video games – I end up feeling like crap. Reading is okay, that feels like a worthwhile activity, but sometimes also feels like work. No, I can’t sit and do nothing. I have to accomplish something. Even an easy win like taking out the garbage. I have to goal, and check off that box.

    I didn’t used to be this way. I used to waste days left and right, without a care in the world. Waking up at noon, going to bed at dawn. The coming and going of days like an endless cycle that I seemed to float above.

    Now I am in the grind. If the day goes by and I don’t have something to hang my name on, then I become the most useless man in the history of the known universe.

    Yet another thing to work at.