Camping: A Rant

Confession: I judge people when we're camping.

We just returned from our second of two camping trips this week. Our first was with good family friends who have kids the same age as our boys. The second was with all of my family for a weekend get-together.

The first campsite was on an island on Lake Superior. It was somewhat remote and not very full. Tents outnumbered RVs.

The second campsite was on a lake in Iowa. It was almost completely full and mostly RVs. Now, I understand RVs for older people who aren't able to sleep on the ground or who are travelling across country. I would accept if my parents decided to get a small pop-up camper at some point.

I don't get parking in the great out doors so you can cook and eat all your meals inside and spend your evening watching television.

Camping is about getting away from all that. It's about being outside. It's about building memories with your kids and teaching them new skills. It's about having fun together as a family.

So get out there and do it. Every child needs to sleep in a tent and cook food over a campfire at least once. Even if it's a terrible experience--even if it rains the whole time and the lake is cold and the food doesn't turn out well--even those bad experiences produce great memories.

A Seven-Year Old's Birthday Party

Confession: We went simple.

Years ago when our eldest son was nearing the age when he would start having birthday parties that involved inviting friends over and not just family members, I declared that we weren't going to have a big party every year. Maybe every other. But I didn't want to do a big fancy party every year. It can get out of control.

However, since Anders turned three, I believe, we've had a birthday party for him. Partly because we ended up moving a few times during those last four years, and I think we partly did them to compensate for some of his losses. And of course, we had to do the same for his younger brother once Nils came of age. And so it became a yearly requirement.

This year I said I wasn't up for programming a big party. We caught Anders in an agreeable mood, and he asked if he could just have a playdate with a few friends from school he hasn't seen in a while.

So three of his friends met us at a nearby regional park with a nice play center and wading pool with a big boulder in the center that sprays water in various directions. The boys played for a while, then we had a simple meal (hot dogs, chips, carrots). They played some more, then we had "cake" (cupcakes made in the shape of a caterpillar). Then the boys played some more until it was time to go home.

They had fun, and we didn't have to do much work. It helps that his birthday is in the summer, which provides many options for play. It also helps that kids are content with just being together and playing.

So, happy seventh birthday (his golden birthday), Anders! You've brought a lot of joy into our lives the past seven years. We're looking forward to seeing the wonderful kind of man you'll grow to be.

Tips for Sending Your Child off to Camp

My son returned from camp today. He had a great time. He's already planning on going back next year.

Having worked full-time at a camp for almost five years (plus many summer in high school and college), I thought I'd share some brief thoughts on being successful at sending your child off to camp:

1. Raise them to be able to handle being away from you. Instill them will self-confidence, common-sense and a healthy fear of harmful things (our job as parents, after all, is to raise them to be able to live on their own as successful adults).

2. Don't tell them to call you if they get homesick. Write to them, but don't call them. And when you write, only talk about what they're doing at camp. Don't mention how much you miss them or what fun things they're missing out on at home. Just focus on the new friends and the fun they may be having at camp. Most homesickness is created by parents. Their counselors, while trained to deal with homesickness is good ways, have plenty to deal with as it is.

3. Talk up camp ahead of time--focus on all the fun things they'll get to do, new skills to learn, new friends to make, etc. Don't focus on your own fears or concerns.

4. Help your child prepare. Teach them to roll up their sleeping bag, turn on a shower and bathe themselves, how to spend their money wisely (budgeting over a few days), etc. And don't be upset if they come home without having rolled up their sleeping bag, not showered and used all their money on candy.

5. Have your child pack their own suitcase/bag as much as possible. They're the ones responsible for bringing everything home--they need to know what's in there. And if they pick out their outfits, they're more likely to wear them (I know plenty of kids who don't change their clothes during the week.

And this is a bit late at this point, but maybe keep this in mind for next year: try and attend camp together as a family before hand if you can--even if just a visit. Our Bible camp has several family camps. One is over Memorial Day weekend where you attend for a minimal fee in exchange for helping get the camp ready for summer.

Happy Camper

Confession: I'm saddened how easily my son left for camp this morning. I'm also thankful.

He's usually the sensitive one who cries when he has to be away from us. This morning we put him on the bus for Bible Camp (two hours away). It's the first time he's able to go away by himself. Alone. Except that one of his friends from church was with him. They were sitting together on the bus. Waving to us. Smiling and laughing. No tears. Not on his part, at least.

He'll be seven in two weeks. I guess he's growing up.

His younger brother, however, was crying quite a bit as the bus pulled away. Which is funny in a way since he's gone through two years of being alone with me while his brother is at school. He's been fine the rest of the day, though.

I think the hardest part is not being there to experience everything with him. To encourage him. To protect him. To see his joy.

But I'm grateful he was excited to go to camp by himself (even before his friend from church signed up). I'm grateful I don't have to worry too much about him while he's gone. I'm thankful for the experience he'll have.

I just hope he remembers to bring home all his stuff.

First Harvest

Confession: I'm not fond of radishes.

We planted them in the garden anyway as they're one of the first crops ready to harvest. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the sake of achievement. Sometimes you need the quick encouragement in order to persevere through the long haul (because, let's face it, it'll be a while before that squash is ready).

So the boys pulled a few of the radishes (red and white) out of

the garden yesterday. And they were excited to do so. Even if they didn't particularly like the way the radishes tasted. (If you've got a good way to eat radishes other than raw, let me know. I'm game for trying something different. I've expanded my vegetable repertoire quite a bit, but I still haven't found a way I like to eat radishes. Or beets.)

Happy Father's Day

Confession: Sometimes I'm a terrible father. I can get too engrossed in my own pursuits to pay attention to my boys. I can be short-tempered. I can discipline them unreasonably.

Still, I'm there. And in many instances, that's a lot more than most kids have. And I hope that for the majority of the time I'm doing a decent job. That's all we can do. We can't see into the future and know how our kids will turn out--if they will succeed or fail because of what we've done in their lives. We can only hope. And try our best.

As dads, we will fail at times. But if we don't give up and just stand by our kids, supporting them in all they do and loving them unconditionally, steering them toward what is good and away from the bad, giving them the foundation they need to do well on their own, then we've done a large part of our job.

And I'm extremely grateful for my wife who made me a father. A huge part of being a good dad is loving your wife. And I love her immensely.

It's not so much about what we buy for them and the fun places we take them--though those memories are pleasant to have--it's about being there for them and being an example they can live up to.

My dad wasn't perfect, but he did well. He was there for me and taught me a lot. He's still there for me--as well as for my boys. And I'm grateful. I hope that legacy continues.

Signs of the Times

My 4 1/2 year old taped this sign to a tree in our yard today. Apparently, he wasn't happy that some of the neighborhood boys were in the tree. So he came inside, printed a sign and grabbed some tape. It reads:

DON'T CLIMB

ON THIS TREE

ALONE TIME

NILS

I guess he has declared the tree to be his (mainly by merit of it being the one he can climb)--and where he has his "alone time."

Summer Time!

We're now in our third day of school being out. I'm looking forward to the summer ahead (especially when I'm done watching my niece and nephew in a week. I love them dearly, but it will certainly free up our weeks). I'm looking forward to trips to the beach, museums, bike rides, picnics, parks, and so much more.

Today we went fossil hunting at Lilydale Park. My wife's group of women geoscientists set it up and invited a lot of people. It was fun. The boys collected bucket-fulls of fossils. I got a little sun-burned on my neck. We had mud all over.

That's summer fun. And we've got weeks ahead of us!

Of Two-Wheelers and Motivator

Confession: Sometimes I have a hard time knowing when to encourage and build confidence and when to make my kids do something when they don't want to.

About a month ago now the boys wanted to work on getting their training wheels off their bike--mostly the 4-year old. To be honest, he was riding a bit with them off last summer, but in the midst of our move and everything we didn't get back to practicing, so the training wheels were on through the fall. And so this spring, after a bit of riding around with training wheels, he determined he was ready to get them off.

My almost-7-year old also wanted them off. Kind of. At times. And at times he was content with riding with training wheels forever. He sometimes only likes to do things if he's able to do them well. And, as we all know, learning to ride a bike takes a lot of practice and often comes with some accidents. And he didn't want to go through all that--especially the falling part.

So we kept encouraging him. We knew he could do it if he kept trying. We knew he'd enjoy the freedom of not having training wheels. And we were hoping for some bike trips this summer. So we kept trying to build up his confidence.

That didn't necessarily work, though. He was still content to not learn to ride a two-wheeler. So, I admit, there were times when we almost forced him to try. Bike riding is a life skill. It's something our family does. We weren't going to let him not learn. But that didn't necessarily work either.

I think it was a combination of confidence-building, making him do it and also seeing that his younger brother was doing it well. Maybe envy is the strongest motivator.

Whatever worked, worked. And both boys have been riding continuously the last month (seriously--my 4-year old rides the sidewalk around our yard and then through the gates as often as he can). Yesterday we had our first "long" trip from school to the library to home. It was just over a mile. They were on the sidewalk mostly as we still need a little more practice and time to learn the rules of the road before they take to the streets. But there's hope for some fun rides this summer.

Stormy Weather

Confession: I'm not sure I worry enough at times.

Last Sunday my boys were in a tornado, and I was not there with them.

They were at a friend's birthday party when the tornado hit. I was upstairs on the second-floor of our house. My wife was driving home at the time. It was the first tornado I've heard--though I didn't go to the basement.

I'm not a reckless person. I wasn't trying to be "tough" through the storm and not seek shelter. I grew up on a farm where we watched the weather. When it was clearly threatening, we sought shelter. When I heard the whistle blow, I turned on the television to see what the news was saying and looked out the window. I didn't see much. But I heard it. It was remarkably close.

I confess I was more worried about my wife than my kids. She was in a car driving into it. The boys were with friends. I was trying to call her, but couldn't get through because the lines were busy. So I was mostly worried about her. She was finally able to get through to me and let me know that the boys were okay. Every tree on the block they were on was gone, but the houses were still standing. My wife had to park a few blocks away and climb over trees to get to them (I had to be at church because I was preaching--sometimes I get too "loyal" to my commitments).

A mother of another kid from the party shared after school the other day how she was having nightmares and he was having some PTSD-type symptoms. My boys haven't said much--other than it was fun to climb on the trees and roots afterward. But they went through something major. And I'm proud they handled it well (my almost-seven-year old said his first response was to pray--which I'm proud of him for doing). I'm feeling guilty because I didn't worry enough, I guess.

The boys and I went out the next to try and help with clean-up efforts in our neighborhood after the tornado. We weren't able to do much work since the boys were with me (I was hoping they could help move branches while I moved limbs, but because of liability issues as well as safety concerns with downed power lines, they wouldn't let us--which is understandable), but we were able to help run errands on the bicycle.

It wasn't quite their cup of tea. I don't know if manual labor would have ended up much better. After a while they were acting all tired and not able to do much more. It was a long, tiresome morning. But it was important to be a good example in showing the boys the importance of helping neighbors in need--even if we weren't able to do much. We're still processing the whole thing as the neighborhood slowly gets back to normal.

And they had been at a friend's birthday party when the tornado hit--right in the middle of it.