We all love our children. We love them enough that when they are babies and they never want to sleep, we still love them. We love them enough that when they drive us crazy, we still love them. We love them enough that when we are at our last bit of patience and we want to lock them in their room until they are 40, we still love them. We love everything about them. When they yell at us and tell us that we are wrong; when they laugh at us, not with us, because they don’t like what we are wearing. When they say “I am never eating that, ever,” after you have spent hours preparing a meal that you think they would like, we still love them. They are our gifts from God and there is no viable return policy.
But when do we love them the very most? Aside, of course from when they give in and tell us that they love us; or when we get an unexpected hug or a 30-minute uninterrupted conversation with no smart phones in sight. Those are really great times. But, putting them on a bus and sending them to sleepaway camp is what Whitney Houston was referring to in her song “The Greatest Love of All.” Get on that bus kid, don’t look back, just climb on in there, sit next to your friend and have an amazing summer. Is that wrong?
Depending on how many children you have and how close in age they are (and how much money you can scrimp, borrow and save) will depend on how your summers will turn out. In this household, having the boys in less than four years meant that we would get a few summers without the loves of my life at home. Truth is, it has only worked out that way twice, this summer being the second summer. A couple of times they came home after a month so we could go on our baseball road trips. That isn’t happening again, for a while, because life and college get in the way. Holy cow: I have a kid going to college. OK, I just went on a tangent, need to refocus.
Back to camp; so the guys pack up and they are ready to go and it is going to be a great summer for them and an even greater summer for mom and dad! Kids are all gone and you don’t know what to do first; do I clean their rooms or just lie on their beds and smell their pillows? Look through their baby books and remember camps gone by? Shomrei Torah camp-they loved that. Matov-they loved that too. The one month I sent them to Regesh and son #2 ate brownie sandwiches for lunch. Yes, a brownie between two pieces of bread. Nothing wrong with that! Ah, the simpler times. And the best thing about those camps, no visiting day!
Now I am not one of those parents who sees visiting day as a burden. I am excited to get up to camp, to see my beautiful boys, to see which friends from last year have put on the most weight (I, unfortunately, won that award this year). I like to see their bunks and how organized their cubbies look, and then I wonder why nothing looks that organized at home. Should I just get them cubbies? And they introduce me to their friends and their counselors. We go to pizza, we go to ice cream, we shlep the water and Gatorade and snacks and whatever ever else was written on the list. The list is very important. If you forget anything on the list you are in a bit of trouble because you can only send food to camp on the first day and on visiting day. And this year they even limited the size package you can send up. It all gets a little too complicated, but let’s get back to the joys of visiting day.
What amazes me even more is that this visiting day felt like a five-hour hot flash. I have never been so hot in my life (insert joke here). It was hot. Really, really hot. My hair, though perfectly coiffed before visiting day, looked like I had just come out of a sauna. But looking around at the other ladies, their hair all looked fine and frizzless. What am I doing wrong? It is a Jersey thing? Is it just a me thing? It was scary. But my boys didn’t seem to care. Though they did get annoyed every time we passed someone and I said, “How does her hair still look so good?” Was there a blow out bar at the camp that I missed? In any event, even though my hair was not at its best and I was sweating like I had just run a marathon, having my boys sit with husband #1 and me in the car for an hour just talking about whatever makes the three hour drive home totally worth it. And nothing makes a parent happier than to see their children happy. Hope your kids are having a great summer and that you are managing to get some alone time whenever you can!
Banji Ganchrow is a self-proclaimed writer who hated sleepaway camp for many reasons, the most important being that girls can be really mean and scary. She is happy that boys seem to be less mean and scary and even happier that her boys love camp.
By Banji Latkin Ganchrow
