My older son gets a week off from school for Spring Break. I immediately decided we’d send him to Camp Grandma (and Grandpa!) during his vacation–we’ve done this before, taking him to my parents about 4 hours East for half the week and then my husband’s parents gather him mid-way through to drive him even further East. We go collect him from my in-laws the following weekend.
Typically, he spends the week running around outside, visiting goats, watching obscene amounts of television, eating ice cream for breakfast, staying up much too late at night, and enjoying an entire week of undivided attention from his doting extended family.
As our younger son creeps closer to weaning and my pregnant body gets larger, we started tinkering with the idea of sending both kids to Camp Grandma. I wasn’t sure I was ready–I’ve never spent the night away from my toddler, let alone a series of nights away. And he’s my sweet baby and we need each other!
As I listed all of these facts to my husband, he took my hand and said, “Katy. You’re very pregnant, you hardly get any sleep, you’re about to have a third child. You need and deserve a break.” And he’s right.
Plus, as it is, whenever we drop big brother off at preschool, my toddler spends the whole day searching the house for him. He opens all the closets and mutters, “Brudder! You in dere?” Imagine how much he’d miss his big brother for a whole week!
We’re currently working out all of the logistics involved in shipping two children off to their grandparents–essentially, just making sure our parents know how to transfer the carseats and have access to the kids’ insurance cards. I’m trying my best to resist printing worksheets about carseat safety, making sleep schedules, and setting up handbooks for each child. I’m trying to focus my energy on making dinner reservations so my husband and I can go out to eat and not worry about rushing home to relieve a babysitter.
I often feel the sting of living far from both arms of our family. I grew up spending most Sundays with my many cousins climbing around my grandma’s house, chasing her cats. Or else swimming at my other grandma’s pool with my many cousins from that side of the family. My kids don’t get to do that. I’m looking forward to this entire week, where they will spend every day building loving relationships with other grownups who share their DNA.
Sure, it’ll be rough re-adjusting to our routine when they come back. But I’ll be facing the disruption on consecutive days of consecutive hours of sleep.
Have any of you shipped your kids off to Camp Grandma? Leave us a comment to share your favorite part of these trips!
