Last week I dropped off my 14 year old daughter at overnight camp.  That means three weeks without hearing the thump-thump-thump of her sleepy footsteps coming downstairs in the morning, and without a bathroom counter strewn with hair products, left open, empty, or both.  It means fewer dishes in the sink, less food in the fridge, more quiet around the house.  And this year, for the first time, neither she nor I cried when we said goodbye.   It’s not because we love or miss each other any less, but because we’ve both reached a level of maturity (yes, even mothers “mature” into their motherly role) to understand that overnight camp is a positive experience for both of us.  In fact, for many kids, including my siblings and I and for very different reasons, it is one the highlights of childhood.

Growing up back east, we spent 8 weeks every summer at overnight summer camp from the age of 6 or 7 until college.  Each year, the excitement about camp began at just about the time that the snow finally melted and the crocuses made their annual debut. We spent months sewing nametags on all our clothing and setting out piles of old linens and towels to pack into a giant duffle bag.  Our parents dropped us off at the camp bus in the city and we left for the 2-3 hour ride north.  There was no email or camp website, and our parents visited us once mid-summer for a few hours on Visitor’s Day.  I’m not sure which we were more excited about – the prospect of seeing our parents, or the bags of cherries that they brought with them.  In hindsight, as a parent, I can now appreciate that while I was having fun without my parents all summer long, they were enjoying a house without kids.  Except there’s one difference – I would not enjoy 8 weeks without my kids.  Three weeks is plenty, thank you very much.  And this summer, our 7 year old is still at home, which has been great, because it gives her quality time with us for a few weeks minus the omnipresent TEENAGE SISTER.

Overnight camp allows children to experience independence and identity, out from under the shadow of well-intentioned parents.  They have the freedom to try new things and seek out new friends, to learn who they are and who they want to be.  They are challenged, both physically and socially.  Camp is not immune to the social drama of middle school or high school.  In fact, it is exactly the place where social skills are tested and honed.  Surviving for several weeks in a cabin with 11 other girls, 2 sinks, one shower, and no air conditioning isn’t easy, but no one really complains.  It’s just comes with the territory, and a summer full of freedom and fun.  And growth.  And learning.  But don’t tell the kids that.  Oh, and did I mention that camp is co-ed?  Many a first kiss has occurred at summer camp, though I wouldn’t know that first hand. 

Summer camp is preparation for life – for both of us.  My daughter will learn how to be in the world as an independent young woman, and I will learn that she is indeed an independent young woman.  In a few short years she will be on her own, making her own choices, (some good, some bad), learning from them, moving forward, carving out a life for herself.  I will be there, of course, on the sidelines, beaming at her successes and crying at her pain.  As a Native American saying goes, as parents, we give two gifts to our children: one is roots, the other, wings.  Fly as high and far as you desire, my dear, but know that there’s always a nest to come home to.