Camp Arnes part two

Thursday morning at 8:15, grandma and grandpa Hildebrand arrived. There were 6 kids eating breakfast at the time, lunches were getting packed, and Arianna and I had our sleeping bags waiting at the back door. We were to be at the school for 8:30 and did our best to meet that deadline, but between getting the school kids out of the door on time, and lying creatively to my three year old (Mommy is going out to get some milk, and I will come back), we got there by 8:45. The meeting for teachers and parent helpers was already under way. I was grateful to see that all the information had been printed in a booklet- at least I can read! The whole "switching of hats" felt a little awkward. Every where I go, my mouth, hands, and feet are in perpetual motion, reigning in pre-schoolers,; maintaining order. Now I was just one single adult.

After the meeting concluded, we ventured out into the hall where about 50 excited grade sixers bounced about. The adults formed nervous alliances as we all headed out into the cold towards the big yellow school buses. I was prepared. In my shoulder bag were reading materials (optimistic?), juice boxes, granola bars, water bottles, advil, kids tylenol, and a package of Rolos. I was invincible. If the bus were to break down somewhere north of Winnipeg, I was sure I could survive for a time in my MEC fleece pants, my $2.00 Arctic parka, with my coffee and chocolate firmly gripped in my woolen mittens.

It took about two hours of bouncing along the highway to arrive at our destination. The kids were excited without being dangerously ridiculous. Having been gifted with the ability to fall asleep even on a rock with wolves circling, I managed to doze through a lot of the trip up. The sleepy feeling ended abruptly when we rolled into Camp Arnes and ventured out into sub-human temperatures. We got a tour of the facility while we waited for our luggage to arrive. Everyone was grateful that lunch was first on the agenda, since we knew for sure they wouldn't be cruel enough to ask us to do that outdoors.

The rest of the afternoon was spent mostly outdoors and we enjoyed activities like fire building and bannock, cross country skiing through the bush (beautiful), survival skills (DUH! just get in out of the cold!!), and an oppurtunity to visit the camp's collection of animals. This event was practically tropical, since the snakes, iguana, mice, hamsters, bunnies, ferret, and tarantula were all warm and cozy under their heat lamps. Between activities we were treated with really delicious meals in the spacious dining hall. Not the typical mess hall fare, but lots of fresh salads, real mashed potatoes, and gravy without lumps.

When the sun went down, the false hope that the bright sun had given us also vanished from sight. Even the horses refused to come out of their warm stalls so the scheduled hay ride was replaced by indoor games. The adults huddled on camp couches hoping to get their circulation back while the younger crowd enthusiastically worked on their teamwork skills under the camp staff's guidance. Next on the schedule was a trip to the indoor pool. Even if I felt fabulous in a swimsuit, I couldn't even imagine paring down to two tiny pieces of lycra. I stayed in my full fleece get up and sat poolside watching the staff and parents warming in the hot tub and the kids screaming and having belly flop contests in the pool.

After a snack, it was off to bed. The girls were lucky to have been given the rooms in the lodge, instead of the outdoor cabins. Our rooms were toasty warm and the kids were fabulous. We decided to tell progressive stories in the dark. I knew that if I got every girl onto their bunk and the lights were out there was no way that they would be able to fight with their tired bodies for long. Especially not after playing outdoors for a whole day. By midnight everyone was fast asleep.

At breakfast the next morning, we learned a few more things. The boys had not fared so well in the sleep department. Between getting housed in freezing cold cabins, bunking with snorers, sleep-walkers, and farters, it was obvious who would win the bed head contest of the morning. Furthermore, the camp directer had the nerve to annouce that the temperature had dropped a further six degrees overnight. A few cell phone calls home led us to discover that the schools in our division had been cancelled due to the extreme cold winter temperatures. The irony did not escape me.

After modifying the morning's activities to ensure that we would deliver everyone's children back to the school complete with fingers and toes, our Camp Arnes trip was coming to an end. By this point, I had grown accustomed to having coffee with my fellow volunteers and staff, feeling like an adult with enough arms and legs to navigate my responsibilites, and enjoyed watching my daughter with her peers (God give me strength, adolescence is coming upon us at full bore....). Time to board the bus again and head home to change hats once again.

What a privelege to be in grade six again for just 24 hours. To remember the joys, and the pressures, to recognize anew that everyone's reality is valid and complete with its own set of challenges, relationships, and rewards. To remember again that when our kids come home to us at the end of their day, they need to be coming home to their sanctuary; a place where they never have to question their value or sense of belonging. To know that no matter how many hours they spend in the classroom that at the end of the day, we parents still get to be their teachers, complete with all the hugs and kisses and affirmations in the world.

Lucky we, lucky them.