Observations on summer camp

Today, Sebastian wraps up a week at the town day camp. Overall, it has been a great experience and we've decided to let him go back for a second week. During this week, Sebastian has learned archery, and I've learned a thing or two as well.

• At least 90% of my daily chaos is attributable to Dorian. Despite the blessed lack of sibling arguments from 9-4 every day, I am no less tired or frazzled than usual. That boy runs me ragged. The only real difference is less screaming. Less screaming is good. But why don't they make 7 hour camps for 2 year-olds?
• Going to camp does not necessarily mean picking up bad habits. I will admit, I was a little afraid of what Sebastian would bring home from this experience. Not so much in terms of head lice (that scare happened Day 1) or poison ivy, but in terms of attitude. The kid had enough going into this, as far as I was concerned. Strangely, though, he has had much better manners. He used to be a follower and happily get involved in whatever shenanigans the other kids were up to, but he seems to be avoiding trouble.
• Being forced to do something can be a good thing. Sebastian was very excited to go to camp, mainly for the archery. You may remember how hard archery is. And you may also know that Sebastian mostly only uses his muscles for drumming. Anything else, and he's a wet noodle. If he were trying this at home, the first time would have been a failure and then he probably wouldn't have tried again. But at camp, he has to do it everyday and now he's seeing a big improvement in his skills.
• Knowing your kid got dunked in the pool is almost as awful as experiencing it yourself. It is really hard to not be there to protect your little boy from other little ruffians.
• Camp does not provide enough bookworm activities. This was to be expected. But it is amazing to me how desperately Sebastian needs to read and write and draw. Not that I don't sympathize. I was the queen of spending the summer indoors. But he walks in the door and goes straight to his work table and draws and draws and draws and writes and writes and writes and, in spite of his hunger, has to be dragged to the dinner table. Then we put his collapsing body to bed at 7:30 only to have him come to his door at 9 to say that it's too dark to read anymore. That boy needs his books.

I'm so glad he got to go to camp. And I'm so impressed with how well he has handled all of it. But I'm also so glad to have him back home with me next week. Then I get to send him back on the 21st.