It took 17 hours to get ready. I had to buy flashlights and travel sized soaps; I needed rain gear and stationery. It wasn't just the shopping though; it was the packing and labeling. I spent 3 hours writing "Snow" on everything from water bottles and Kleenex boxes to sleeping bags and socks. Did I mention each sock had to be labeled individually? It was a lot of work, but it I knew it would be. No matter how prepared you are getting two boys ready for overnight camp is a major production.Summer camp was Zack's idea. Some of his friends had gone last year and the idea appealed to him. He liked the thought of being out in the wilderness studying nature. He wanted to traipse through mountain streams looking for crayfish. He was eager to spread his wings and explore the world outside.Ethan was eager to do whatever Zack was doing.I did some research and found Camp Chatuga, a beautiful site nestled in the mountains near the border of North and South Carolina. And way back in February when I got the confirmation letter saying the boys were registered for a one week session in June, over night camp seemed like a great idea.I was pleased they felt confident enough to go away by themselves. I loved the idea of them getting away from television and video games and living closer to nature. I pictured campfires and pillow fights, talent shows and tents. I couldn't wait for their adventures to begin.Then June got here and I was packing for my two sons, babies really, just 10 and 7 years old. I panicked at the thought of transferring total responsibility for their care to complete strangers.What had I been thinking? Some teenager I didn't know was going to make sure my boys were safe when they were swimming or hiking? A counselor, with who knows how much experience, was going to help them cope with home sickness or nightmares? What if Zack started sleepwalking again? What if Ethan was lonely?Despite my apprehension I put on a happy face and chatted cheerfully during the 4 hour drive to Mountain Rest, South Carolina. I explained all the activities the camp offered and described my own experience with overnight camp. I decided not to mention that I stopped eating, cried every day, or that my parents had to pick me up early. When we arrived at Camp Chatuga, the place was hopping. The kids were whisked away to their cabins to choose a bunk then shuffled to the flag pole to begin their activities. There was no time for tears or long good byes. The boys were making new friends and talking to their counselors, and I needed to leave. But I couldn't. Finally, Ethan looked me in the eye and said, "Mom, you can go now." So I got in my car and drove home. I fretted every day they were gone, my mind jumping from one potential crisis to the next. In the end, I couldn't decide which deserved more of my time; worrying about them being sad or worrying about them being hurt. Finally, I decided to cover all my bases and agonize over everything.Before long, it was time to pick them up again. Like a scene from some movie, they ran into my arms and gave me their very best hug. They told me all about go-carts and waterslides. They described late night swims, archery, and boating. They talked over each other recounting all the fun things they had done. Nothing bad happened at camp after all. Their week away was a wonderful opportunity to safely try out a little independence. It was a glimpse of a future without mom there to fix every problem that arises.

And I'm sure it was good learning experience for the boys as well.

Leslie Snow lives in Knoxville, TN, and survived her first experience as the mom of overnight campers. She wrote this article for her local newspaper.
 
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