It's Raining Shoes aka The Great Camp Debacle

Last summer my strategy was to sign up the kids for as many camps as possible. They went to tennis camp and video game maker camp and junior scientist camp and animal husbandry camp and cheese making camp. Okay, I made up those last two, but I guarantee that such camps exist. Probably at Waldorf. The camps scene is also very overwhelming and there's a risk of feeling like your kid is missing out on something if he's not signed up for a gazillion different camps. Remember when camp was just a place to swim and weave a lanyard? Now they promise that your kid will learn how to write a computer program, build a scale replica of the Eiffel Tower, or knit a scarf out of alpaca wool. It's almost as if the camp programs are targeted to assuage parental guilt rather than deliver on their lofty goals. Why feel guilty that you're off-loading your kid for eight hours when he'll be NBA-ready at the end of the a week of basketball camp?

I succumbed to that pressure last year and our summer felt very over-scheduled and rushed, which is not what summer is all about, amiright? This summer, I tried to be more choosy with the camp selections, especially because all three of the kids are camp-aged, now. Even with my mediocre math skills, I realized that it would be less expensive to pay a babysitter $15/hour to watch the kids for 40 hours a week than to pay camp tuition of $250/week for each of the three kids. So, I decided that each kid would get two weeks of camp, we'd go to Maine for two weeks, and I'd try (with assistance from a babysitter) to keep them from physically harming each other for the remaining 5.5 weeks.

The one camp that the big kids loved last year was the Amy Bryant Tennis Camp at Emory. It must be a fabulous camp because despite running around outside for three hours in 90 degree weather, they both raved about the camp. And the Boy doesn't rave. So, as soon as the early bird registration was available, back in February, I emailed some of their friends' parents to see if anyone else was interested in the camp. This was the first year that the Boy and the Girl would be split up by age; the Boy would be with the 5-8 year old campers and the Girl would be with the 9-14 group. Despite the fact that the Boy and the Girl try to tear each other limb from limb on a daily basis, I know that they take some comfort to being together in unfamiliar places. So, I was especially happy to find a tennis camp friend for each of them.

I registered them for camp using the on-line system, which I found a little bit wonky. But, in the end, I believed that I had successfully registered the kids and noted that they'd like to be in a group with their friends.

You know what that is? That's the first shoe dropping.