Carla will be attending a couple of different camps this summer. It’s our first experience with camp, so, if you imagine my mind like a large industrial size gas stove, with pots of worry on each of the burners, the camp pot is currently set at a low simmer. With each passing day, though, it comes closer to a boil.
Part of that, I think, is that there has been little to no communication from the camps. We got emails right away that they processed our payments… and then… nothing. One of the camps required some sort of something that I’ve forgotten, to take place in April, and eventually I just contacted them myself to get it taken care of. (Would the camp administrators have ever reached out to me?) One of the other camps did send out a sort of welcome email, which promised to send more information in the coming weeks (it has not). The welcome email also included three attachments, two of which were forms that didn’t apply to Carla and one of which was a welcome letter (why couldn’t the content of the letter be part of the email?) that mentioned camp t-shirts and where to buy them, and also gave the date of a… something. I don’t really know what to expect, but I guess we get to go see where the camp takes place and… maybe meet some of the camp staff? It’s very unclear, and I have read it several times to make sense of it.
So the lack of communication is concerning. And it feeds into the part of my worry that derives from the fact that this is a Total Unknown. I never really did camp as a kid. We had a nanny when I was growing up, and my brother and I spent our summers at home. I think there were several years of swimming lessons, and maybe a few visits to a local park that offered face painting. But mostly, we played in the vast wilderness surrounding our house and tried not to get bitten by a rattlesnake. (It was a pretty idyllic way to spend a summer, I have to admit. I have fond memories of riding my bike over gravel and over twin ruts in the prairie that counted as a path; of inspecting ant hills with great care and interest; of swinging for hours in the sun; of swiping a handful of oats from the horses and planting them and watching them grow; of writing messages on pieces of birch bark from the wood pile; of playing with kittens in the hayloft; and so many other outdoor pursuits. I feel like I spent all summer long outside, but memory may be playing tricks on me.
The one childhood camp I remember attending was a sleepaway camp, and the first night I was there I developed pneumonia and had to be sent home. In any event, I was much older than Carla is, and plus this was a million years ago, so I have no idea how camps work anymore. The paragraph-long descriptions that persuaded us to enroll Carla are, from an information perspective, very slim. What does it actually mean to be “exploring the natural world through art” or “mastering new sports skills”? What will the kids be doing all day?
One of the things I am fretting about is Carla’s reaction to camp. I think she will love camp, based on the broad understanding that the kids will be outdoors a lot and that there will be art and sports. But transitions are challenging for Carla, and I am a little concerned that it will take her so long to adjust to camp that she won’t get much out of it. Also, I have this nagging worry that the camp counselors will be… lacksadaisical, and I have scary visions of Carla running off and getting lost in the forest or something.
Okay, breathe, breathe. It’s going to be okay, yes? The camps will eventually send me some real information, right? I will know more than the dates and location of the camp, preferably before the first day of camp, yes?
I keep opening emails to the camp director, wanting to ask in a cheerful and not-overly-eager-or-bothersome manner whether we can anticipate any details in the coming days… or if there is a welcome session to introduce Carla to the camp venue… But then I chide myself about being patient and close the emails. I don’t want to be labeled as That Mom until they get to know me.
Oh, CAMPS. Let me tell you how I feel about camps. Here is how I feel about them: that they are really good places and a lot of fun for kids and usually totally worth the money, and they FILL ME WITH CONSTANT CHURNING IMPOTENT RAGE. Why can’t they get their act together, even slightly? WHY???? Why do they send giant packets of paperwork that alllllllllll need filling out, including duplicates of the same exact information I had to give them at registration?? Why do they in turn give me NEXT TO ZERO information about themselves, including IMPORTANT stuff? Why do they make me acquire a DOCTOR’S PRESCRIPTION for my child’s over-the-counter medication, and why do they not tell me that until we arrive at camp, so that I have to call the doctor the minute I get home and have a “prescription” faxed? Why do I have to BEG for the most REASONABLE thing, such as an answer to an email in which I am trying to GIVE THEM WHAT THEY TOLD ME WAS SO CRUCIAL?? Why do they set up whole systems and then COMPLETELY FAIL TO IMPLEMENT THOSE SYSTEMS??
I have vented about this before, but the example that still baffles me is that Elizabeth went to a camp that had this GREAT system for parent mail: because camp was only a week, and because parents wanted to send their kids letters but would have to do so before the kids had even left, and then maybe the letters wouldn’t get there until the kids were home—I say because of this, the camp had this GREAT idea: parents could drop off a packet of letters on the first day of camp, labeled with the child’s name and the day of the week they wanted the letter delivered. So, like, I could give them a bundle of letters marked “Elizabeth Thistle – Monday” and “Elizabeth Thistle – Tuesday” and so on, and thus ensure that Elizabeth would get a cheery letter from home each day. I did this, and I went to some trouble over it, too, getting pictures of her cat printed and distributing them evenly throughout the envelopes. Camp was Sunday through Saturday, and I sent her with 6 letters—I skipped Saturday, because I’d be picking her up that day. They gave her ALL SIX LETTERS on Friday night. OH MY GOD. WHY.
It’s not like it’s Such a Big Deal. It’s that it represents to me allllll the problems with camps: great ideas! no follow-through! terrible communication! hair-tearing hassles! But…Elizabeth had a GREAT time and didn’t care about the letters. So.
I DO remember reading your post about the letters and it fills me with incredulous sputtering once again. It is comforting to know that it all works out but still SO FRUSTRATING.
Our first summer of camp too. This week’s camp seemed worryingly disorganized at the start. And while the paperwork mentioned that there would be snack time, it neglected to mention that the snack must be provided by the parents, requiring some irritating back and forth to secure the necessary snack. (This was probably the one day in the last 4+ years that I didn’t have random emergency snacks in the bottom of my purse). Several other parents had the same problem so I’m pretty sure this was not my bad. He had fun though!
Next week I have 2 kids in camp at a different location and have heard…crickets…since signing them up other than an email encouraging me to get my friends to send their kids to said Camp too! It’s an indoor kids gym/art/music type thing so I have an idea of what’s probably going to go on, but I guess I too thought I would have a little more information at this point. You can bet I’ll be bringing snacks to drop off though.