Love it or hate it, Halloween is unavoidable for most parents. Like most family occasions, moms are usually the last to dress and they rush out the door sweating, holding one shoe and a bag of makeup.
After eleven fashion-crisis-festooned years of parties, school events, and trick-or-treating, I have decided that possessing a basic Halloween wardrobe could be essential in avoiding some truly scary photos.
It turns out kids aren’t the only ones who have something to learn from summer day camp. Please sit back and get comfortable so that I can throw myself under the bus for your reading pleasure. This is a story about the schooling I received after signing my daughter up for Virtual Ventures, a day camp aimed at engaging kids in STEM (science, technology, engineering and math) this summer.
This might be one of the last articles I can write about my daughter (hereinafter “the Hurricane”). She is now eleven and no longer finds it flattering to be the subject of my work. However, I decided that this information might be helpful to someone so please don't turn me in.
To be quite honest, I have spent the spring and summer months mentally bracing myself for her grade six year and thanks to some research, my dread has been reduced to a dull fret.
I've come to the conclusion I might be a bit of an odd bird.
Those who know me well would more than agree. I came into the world with the chance to do anything. Dad, a family doctor, and Mom, a stay-at-home nurse, encouraged all four of their kids to go as far as we could academically and in our careers. They had no preconceived notions of gender and made university mandatory. At no time was it suggested that I be a stay-at-home mom. It was presented as an out dated option.
The topic of breastfeeding joins sleep training and the work versus stay-at-home debate, as one of the top most divisive and useless arguments women can get into. Throw in sleep deprivation countered with excessive caffeine and the discussions can quickly devolve into a blood bath.
My kids are gone to camp and I am really excited for me...I mean them. Instead of fretting about their safety while they are gone, I choose instead to torture myself with visions of them crying alone in their bunks, walking slowly behind a cheerful group, or hiding in the bathroom for the duration of the dance. To summarize, I worry about them being sad.
Homesickness played an annual role in my summer camp experience. I really wanted to like camp, but it was a bad fit. I went in my tween and early teen years, which were far from my peak. I was uncoordinated, lacking in muscle tone, and judging from photographic evidence, had skipped the chapter on “Making the Most of Your Features.” I did love camp food, boy watching, and the fashion, however. I always went back to my small town knowing what was in style for fall. Funny, a generous women’s Speedo never seemed to make the list.
A few weeks ago my blissful solo drive to the grocery store was interrupted by a story on The Belly Button Challenge. According to reports, this challenge involves illustrating thinness by wrapping an arm around one’s back in an attempt to touch the belly button. Feeling incensed, I decided to further investigate.
Over the past couple of years I am noticing something and the evidence grows. The truth is that as my crew and I circle forty, we are becoming a better version of our twenty-year-old selves. Our 20s were crazy, raw, and open. An endless flow of passion, need and honesty. Smeared mascara, cigarettes in the bathroom and diving into bed to cry with our besties. We were beautiful and fierce. Loyalty mixed with a healthy dose of attitude and confidence.
