With middle school comes outdoor school. Ask any adult about
outdoor school and more often than not their face lights up and they talk about
all their wonderful memories. The words “best time in middle school” are often iterated.
It’s a time to be with classmates, counselors and enjoy the outside without
parents. My school didn’t have outdoor school but I have been to school and to
camp so I get the drift.
It has been with excitement and dread that I watched Mason’s
outdoor school approach. Initially I wasn’t sure he would want to go and I was
prepared to support him either way. A few months back he said he wanted to go so we have been talking about it
and making plans. I have to be careful now that my kids are getting older. I
know my mere existence they find embarrassing at times so I have to be extra cautious
what I put in print so they don’t disown me yet. I will just say I believe I have
kids that are more sensitive than average. Before my kids were even in school “The
Highly Sensitive Child: Helping our Children Thrive When the World Overwhelms
Them” was a staple on my bedside table. Feelings,
the good and the bad, come big in my house. The sensitivity can also extend to
clothing (socks worn inside out because they feel better), emotions, sounds,
etc. You get the idea. Anyhow, both my kids – with one in particular – like their
routines, spaces and down time.
I watched outdoor school approach and did my best to be
confident, encouraging and brave. After the first night I convinced myself that
things were probably okay because I hadn’t been called. By the second night I
was feeling pretty good and the third night I slept like a log feeling like we
had overcome a giant hurdle on the road to independence.
Turns out, the “time of his life” was not how he described
it. It was hard. He was sad. Really sad. Things got better as the week went on
but it wasn’t awesome-to say the least. He wouldn’t do it again and now his
sister is pretty sure she wants nothing to do with it. I have two years to explain that his experience
doesn’t equate to what her experience will be. I feel sad that he had a hard
time. I feel a little bad when I see all the posts about friends’ kids who had
a blast. I am happy for them but sorry that my kid didn’t feel the same.
But, in the middle of it, you know what I am? I am super
proud of my kids. I am proud that my younger one goes to school without crying
any more. I am proud that my oldest one got on the bus and went to outdoor
school when he could have chosen to stay home. I am proud of them for being
honest that sometimes they just find life overwhelming. Outdoor school wasn’t
the time of his life but how awesome that the time of his life is still ahead
of him.
