Monday, June 16, 2014

Alec Calls it Camp: I Call it a Learning Experience....For Mom

A couple of days ago it was Family Day at the camp that Alec is currently attending.  Before I tell you about Family Day, let me tell you about how the schedule is set up at this camp.  The campers arrive on a Sunday.  The following Saturday is Family Day and then the campers have two more weeks of camp, sans family visits.  All alone with people they have just met.  At least for the new campers, the ten year olds, they are people they have just met. 

When I dropped my oldest child, my first-born son, off at camp it went something like this: he went with his cabin coach to unpack and change clothes while the boys and I waited, he returned in his camp uniform, bouncing across the campground like a spring that has been waiting for an eternity to finally be sprung, he hugged me, looked up and said “bye”.   Um, that’s it?  Seriously? 

This momma had a hard time with this one.  Much like on his first day of kindergarten when he looked over at me, my face full of worried anticipation of the separation tantrum that was to occur in three….two…one……and then this – “Are you still here?”  Yep, I expected that my child, my first-born, who had never even been in daycare, would exhibit at least a small amount of trepidation about his first-ever school day.  I was wrong.  It was foreshadowing: a glimpse into how it would go down when I dropped him off at camp five years later. 

I am not sure why I build these things up in my mind to be so much more than they are ever going to be.  I don’t know why in these particular moments, when I have to release my child, my first-born, to the care of others, I expect that he will rebel or fight to stay with his mommy, or at least freaking whimper.  But he does not.  He goes into new experiences unafraid and without a fight.  He is not an alpha male by any means, but he is not afraid to give things a try either. 

Fast forward to Family Day.  When Alec turned to see me and his brothers standing on the campground, he was instantly in my arms, tears flowing.  His words told me that he was happy to see me; but his eyes betrayed the truth: he wanted to come home; he’d had enough of this camp business and was ready to return to the familiarity of family and long days of arguing with his brothers.  He wanted his mom and he wanted his house and his bed and he wanted his normal routine.  He wanted so much to be back in College Station, back in the familiar reality that requires no courage, where excitement does not wane at the end of the day when there is nothing left to do, where he belongs.

Alec and I made a commitment to this camp: it is an invitation-only camp and by accepting his invitation, Alec took a spot at camp that could have been taken by another boy.  We, together, discussed this many times in the weeks preceding camp, and we, together, decided to make a commitment.  At that moment I know that he wanted more than anything in the world to break his commitment.  He just wanted home.  But that is not how we do things.  That is not who I am raising my son to be. 

I never entertained the idea of letting him come home with me that day and I am so glad that I didn’t.  During my time at Family Day I spoke to the wonderful lady who, along with her husband, runs the camp.  She knew that Alec was feeling homesick and that he had been for several days.  But she made it clear to me that his homesickness was only in his down time.  She made it clear to me that during every other moment of every day, whether he felt sad or not, he put his head down and did what he was supposed to do; he did what the coaches asked, he participated fully in every activity, he was a committed camper.  He was exactly who I am raising my son to be.

It was hard to say goodbye to him when we left the camp that day.  But it was not hard to enjoy the pride I felt in my son and the way that he is showing his character every single day at that camp.  The way he is charging ahead, doing what he committed to do and enjoying it even though he sometimes feels overwhelming homesickness, the way he is handling himself in a difficult situation makes me proud.  And hopefully it makes him proud too.  Hopefully this is an experience that will teach him that even when you temporarily don’t like it anymore, even when it is so much easier to pack up and go home, even when giving up seems like a viable option because your mom is standing there and she could give you a ride home; it is still possible to see things through to the end and to fully honor your commitments. 

That night I got a call from the man who runs that camp with his wife.  He called to let me know that though it was hard for Alec to see us drive away, and there were some tears, Alec had stepped up to the plate, dried his eyes and fully re-engaged in the camp activities, and that he was happy and doing amazing.  He called to thank me for sharing my son with him and his camp; for allowing them the time to get to know Alec and to see what a great kid he is.  He called to commend Alec and to thank me for not pulling him out of camp, for choosing instead to honor our commitment.


The thing is this: my boys never cease to amaze me.  Just when I thought I have Alec all figured out and I know exactly what to expect from him, he pulls a fast one on me.  He exhibits independence that leaves me in awe; he feels sadness so deep that it brings him to tears and then he turns right around and shows what he is truly made of.   My Alec, my child, my first-born; what an amazing young man he is turning out to be.