The More Things Change
by
When I was a child, there was no camp. Well, maybe there was but no kid I knew went to one. Why? Because it was rare that our mom’s worked.
What did we kids do in the summer? We played outside a lot. Kickball in the streets, rode bikes, swam, jumped rope. We also bought home-made freezies from other kids in the neighborhood. We played with our friends in and out of all of our homes all summer long, calling everyone’s mother, “Mom.”
In Louisiana, many of us kids also spent time at fishing camps. My family went to my grandparents’ camp one week in August every summer — the week that rang in the opening of Shrimping Season. We’d fish, and swim, and eat s’mores. We’d build puzzles in the evenings and crab off the docks if we didn’t go on the boats during the day. We’d chase rabbits in the back yard and play with the Sleanky in the stairwell. Those summer days were the best.
The kids in my family also spent time at relatives — a week with an aunt, a week with each set of grandparents. We had friends all over town.
But today? Katrina claimed our fishing camp. Moms work. Kids are not “ratting the streets” free and loose. Kids’ days are filled with Camp and Gymnastics and Dance and Soccer. . . .
However.
Tomorrow my sister, her niece by marriage, our two nieces, my aunt and maybe even my cousin’s daughter are coming over so we can all spend the day together. Eight girls ranging in age from 2 to teens to 60. And we’ll do it again next Wednesday, and the next after that, and every Wednesday through the summer. We plan on going to museums, the Insectarium, the Aquarium, the movie theater. We also want to go roller skating, bowling. We may even do trips to the French Quarter or maybe even further! Sleepovers may be involved. And s’mores are a requirement.
So that aunt who made being an adult look like so much fun is getting a crack at teaching her great-nieces that aging isn’t too bad either. It’s gonna be a good summer.
Can you adopt me?
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Can I be the long lost cousin? I’d be easy to convince, hard to lose, quick to please, slow to leave.
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We aren’t doing camps this year. We’re getting out on our own and with friends, like you. I don’t have family in the area, so I’m a bit envious of your girls’ group.
The other evening, around 5 or so, I took two of my kids to the Friday night music camp at The Three Ring Circus. We passed two kids playing on a corner. My children said, “Why would their mom let them do that?” I explained that it was about all I did when I was those kids ages. The freedom I had that my kids don’t get. Kind of makes me sad.
Oh that’s great! I was lamenting the same loss of my maternal privilege last night since my kids have to go to camp while I work. My summers were much the same as yours growing up, except without shrimp and crayfish…
But don’t forget you are all coming to sleepaway camp in NY later this summer:-)
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That is fabulous! I’m jealous, and I hope you’ll blog/tweet about it each week, so that I can live vicariously through y’all!
Sounds simply glorious. I remember summers like that too. My kids are really missing out. I hope you all have a fantastic time.
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That sounds great. Sometimes we have to plan happiness.
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I can recall a very similar childhood–having grown up just a few hours north of New Orleans. Nowadays when we see kids roaming the streets we immediately assume that they are up to no good.
I like your idea of your self made summer camp. Sounds like a blast.
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