Weaks of Summer

It’s a miserably humid June Friday.  Today, would have been my day off, but those words are laughable.  I try to take off one day a week from work, and it seems like with my three kids’ activities increasing, my “day off” is more of a continuation of “day on” just in a less appreciated capacity. Each week I find myself in appointments, school programs, school meetings, and now the summer has come and my kids’ schedules have tripled! 

How can the old flip-flop, popsicle summer days be so busy?  They are so busy, because we don’t treat them like summer days anymore.  Instead, we’ve ruined them much like we’ve ruined Christmas days.  The extra use of sunlight is squeezed into the summer weeks much like a bitter sweet lemon is squeezed for a simple summer lemonade stand.  Each ounce of daylight is spent in High School gyms, extra curricular select sports’ practices, baseball fields, camps, holiday parties, family chores, vacations, school prep classes, tutoring, driving classes, and so forth.

Today, I drove an extra hour out of my way (left an extra hour early) to retrieve my oldest son from his annual summer camp one day before it ends. This camp has been an end of the school reward ritual for the past five years for him.   His grandmother insisted on giving it to him as a Christmas present five years ago, and he has enjoyed this gift every year for Christmas since.

The first year that he opened the envelope (with camp lettering and dates and a big camp trunk) his excitement was less than desirable.  Note to self to work with my children on their facial expressions during gift opening.  But, after attending that first week in June (one week after school had let out) he understood the value.  Every year after, he’s asked for that gift.

This was the fifth year for the campers.  Even when my kids were younger, even their first year, I’ve never been “that mom” that has everything labeled with the iron on names or trunks with special designs.  I’m not giving last minute butterfly kisses or leaving special notes in their toiletries bags.  Instead, we are usually packing within the last ten minutes before we drive off on two wheels, crossing our fingers there are still good bunks left.  We say things like, “Just borrow some bug spray, you will be just fine. Oh and have a great week!” Maybe my kids need more attention, but I think they are thriving just fine with the independence our crazy schedules have instilled in them. 

This year’s summer camp experience has been different for my oldest and for me, as a parent. He was dropped off frantically, like normal. But, before I left, the counselors were given complex instructions for his extra curricular summer activities.  I would be driving back to pick him up early one night for basketball scrimmages and then would return him.  I would also be picking him up a day early from camp for a baseball tournament that he was required to make for his select baseball league.

The first pick up went smoothly.  He came back and played on a night that very few players had been able to make it.  He scored 19 points that scrimmage and I felt great we (we meaning I) had worked so hard to get him there.  It only meant me leaving work early and taking a half day, then driving an hour and half to pick him up, driving an hour and half to take him back to the scrimmages. Then, after the games, I drove him back an hour and half to camp and then drove  myself back home – another hour and half.  Piece of cake!  Six hours of driving would always be worth 19 points for my athlete!

My next taxing taxi adventure has been today. I picked him up and all of his cabin was with him waiting for me. They had planned a “boy like exit” full of slaps, punches, and silly string.  He has known these boys for the last 5 years. They come from all over the United States and bring my child new perspective each summer they come to camp.  I love that he enjoys meeting new people and has seen that there is a different world outside of his small town.  He always comes home wanting different styles of clothes, talking about different colleges his friends are looking at, and craving more from this big world for his own life.

Today, he got in the car and barely spoke.  Of course I am used to this, with a fifteen year old son.  But, I still selfishly started getting upset, as I drove out with the tall pine trees that bordered the long, dark camp road.  Did he not understand how much I sacrificed today and this week to get him to his next “can’t miss” activity?  How can he just sit there, so entitled and barely speak to me?

“Are you tired?” I asked.

“No,” he huffed as he turned to look out his window. I stared at the back of his head.  Of course he’s not tired…. because I don’t know anything!  How could he answer yes, and me be correct! Ugh!!!!

I drive on and let my mind tell me all sorts of sad things.  He used to jump in and ramble the entire ride home about all of his adventures.  He couldn’t wait to see his family and explain in detail the week he had…. starting from the beginning and ending with just before we arrived.  Now, he would rather just look out of the window, like a spoiled brat that was just picked up by his chauffeur!

As I drove, I had more quiet time to think.  Had I created this monster by jumping through hoops?  I was trying to help him.  Yet, maybe I created the entitlement.  I was trying to keep my mom happy (she spent the money for the camp). I was trying to keep the coaches happy, so they saw his dedication and honest love for the sports.  I was just trying to keep him happy.

After about twenty miles of me feeling sorry for myself and questioning my parenting, he finally spoke.

“I was going to be King tonight at Huawni!”

“What is that?” I questioned carefully, hoping to encourage more correspondence.

“It’s not a big deal, but it’s where the campers vote and it always announced after initiation.  I would get a gold charm, too!”

“How do you know you would have been it?”

“Well, everyone said they voted for me.  But, I said I wouldn’t be there tonight…so, we picked someone else to all vote for.  It’s kinda based on how long you have come and how old you are!  There is one King and one Princess! It’s fine.  Not a big deal!”

So, that was it.  He was sad.  It was a big deal!  Here….I have tried to do everything possible for him and it still wasn’t quite right.  It made me sad.  No wonder he was quiet. He wasn’t entitled and it wasn’t about ME!  He was driving away from his one magical week of the year that he gets to relax, and he had left one day early.

At Huawni, he gets to be him with no expectations.  No teacher expecting anything from him.  No coach expecting anything from him.  NO PARENT expecting anything from him!  I understood him, because that type of week sounded amazing!

He was driving toward his regular life….weeks of more expectations…drinking shakes to gain weight, summer workouts, mowing our lawn before we are home from work, shooting baskets, pitching lessons, studying his ACT book and the list goes on.

I wish I had understood this better before.  I wish my low key parenting had been there this week.  Sometimes we try EXTRA hard, only to learn our trying has hurt our child rather than helped.  Sometimes what we think our kids need is far from what they truly need.

We drove to the baseball game, where they lost 7-9.