Alas, I did not. I missed out on leaving my family behind for an entire week (!!!) to go spend it in the wilderness, making tie-dye bandannas or pillow cases, creating Popsicle stick works of art, jumping in a swimming hole, telling ghost stories around the campfire, canoeing, horseback riding, and crushing on a boy or a boy counselor (!!!).
I did go to a day camp the summer I was 9. My family had just moved on base and I had switched schools -- yet again -- and knew absolutely nobody in the neighborhood or the camp. I was freakin' miserable, and was sick to my stomach every single morning for the excruciatingly long eight weeks of camp. I can't imagine I would have fared any better at a sleepaway camp.
Actually, I would have likely been horribly miserable getting there but would have been fine the whole time ensconced away at camp. That's what it was like at the day camp: I hated going but was fine once I was there.
Daughter is away at camp. We have had no contact with her for several days. Oh, sure, we sent post cards and I'm sure we'll receive a post card. Probably after she gets back. She went with her BFF and she was so excited.
She burst into tears the night before she went, moaning that she'd miss us. Knowing Daughter like I do, I'm sure it was just on her checklist of things to do before she left. "Make sure extra food is out for Moonshine [the fish]." "Ask Eldest to PLEASE play with Youngest while I'm gone." "Cry so Mom and Dad think I'll miss them."
Independent kids. Camp. A recipe for