I saw my dermatologist the other day. I won’t bore you with the details but suffice to say-the new adult onset pimple attack to my 40 year old face is due to the fact that I have “too many male hormones” in my body (if only I had too many male hormones in my shapely thighs and hips). We’re in the examining room, I’ve got an enormous lamp shining in my face and the doctor is talking some medical mumbo jumbo and I’m just half listening and thinking, “Duh. I live with four Chippewa boys. Of course I have too many male hormones floating around in my body.”

Can I not get a break? My world revolves around male energy, male activities, and male humor. Every room in my house is green or blue except my office which I recently painted rose. (Why? Because I wanted to make a point. A girl lives here.) And now, I’ve developed adult on-set, male hormonal acne. What happened to the feminine side of me? Where has she gone…?

There are more racquets, basketballs, baseball cards, comics, and tube socks in my house than pumps, sling backs, and mules. There are more pets and living and now breeding fish than I can count. And now, my female body is being transformed into one of the boys? Seriously. I now have adult on-set acne? (Which my husband says nobody notices except me and that what I need is a shrink not a dermatologist. He says that I am beautiful and that I’m being too hard on myself. He says he loves me. But what does he know? I went to a co-ed camp and well…I’m a girl).

Enough said. Let’s talk camp and Moms. In my last article I told you my honest feelings about Camp Chippewa. I may be what you’d call a groupie. I feel so strongly about the benefits of Chippewa for my family that I wrote an article that you can probably still read on line. Suffice to say, Camp Chippewa, in my opinion, is what every mother sending her child to camp dreams of when she imagines her beloved son leaving her home for the great outdoors.

And, ladies, after seeing what Chippewa has done for my husband and sons, let’s talk about the other side of Camp Chippewa. I’m referring to a Mother’s summer vacation. After all, you may be ready and deserving. I am going to admit that although I miss my boys terribly, although I even admittedly cry like a baby after they have left for camp- that I smell their pillows and blankets because I yearn to tuck them in at night, and yes- that I practically accost our poor little mail carrier because he might be delivering a 1 or 2 sentence meal ticket from one of my sons- I admit to you now that this year I am going to turn back into a girl after they depart from camp. I’m going to get back in touch with my feminine side. If only for a month or so, I think she’s still in here somewhere.

I am going to return home from dropping them off at the airport and in the following order, I am going to transform myself.
I will put away the iron that I used until 2am to label camp clothes.
I will clean up their rooms like they haven’t been cleaned since- well, last summer.
I will turn on “my kind of music”, light some candles (which will, for the first time, actually be safe from karate moves and wrestling), and then lay on the couch with a book.
I will nap because I can.
I will call my husband and tell him I’m not making dinner for 5 because he’s taking me out.
I will take a bubble bath without someone talking through the door.
I will smell pretty and no one will make a wise crack that “it smells weird in here.”
I will watch “Officer And A Gentleman” and cry and not be embarrassed.
I will listen to the quiet of the house as I head upstairs to bed, when I want to head upstairs.
I will cuddle up in bed and write letters to my sons at Chippewa. And I will think of them and know that they have had Mary’s lasagna and Monster cookies for dinner and that as I write, some carefully trained, genuinely devoted counselor is reading them to sleep after their first day back at Chippewa.

One closing thought. I’ve always prided myself on being okay with who I am. In fact, I tell my boys (all four of them): “I am a girl. I like to be a girl. I like girl things. I don’t like nasty sounds, nasty smells, or nasty things. Orofus sounds do not make me laugh. Good table manners make me smile. I like flowers, perfume, and chocolate. I like when you hold the door open for me. I like when you hug me more than when you check me.”

But- truth be told, there is one time when I wish to be a boy. When I watch the video of Camp Chippewa, I sometimes kinda wish I were one of the boys too. Next best thing though- my boys are Camp Chippewa boys. I hope all of the boys have another great Chippewa summer… and Moms, you too.

Deb first summer as a camp mom was in 2003. She continues on in her role as camp mom and wife. Be sure to read her other article, Off They Go, about sending your son to camp for his first summer.