I remember being in my twenties and being in charge there. Looking back on it, it was an awesome responsibility, but, we lived there in our bubble knowing the outside world didn't understand, and, parents (of campers) were just a job hazard. It wasn't that we were disrespectful, on the contrary, we knew these clueless and aging folks needed our guidance and superior knowledge of camp (heh, "parents just don't understand"). Even after having kids of my own, I have always been a part of the place. Hell, I even changed some of current staff's diapers when they were babies.
Anyway, tonight was one of my infirmary nights. I got out there, and was making my way to the infirmary when a young staff person came bounding up to me, obviously trying to block my way because she didn't know me.** A little too enthusiastically she said, "HI! DO YOU NEED SOME HELP?!!" Now, there's nothing wrong with that statement, in fact, it was the right thing for her to do. It's just that I used to be that girl, and, that one sentence contained a world of meaning. To her, I was just a confused and clueless camper's mother who needed her help
After we established who I was, I went over to look at the patient log, and, I realized not one, but, two nurses had already been there today, and, when I went around the corner, there stood another nurse. Grr...but, I digress. I exchanged pleasantries with the staff member, and, I told an infirmary story that was pertinent to our conversation.
In that brief and shining moment, I sealed my old-fartness. I have resorted to telling "back in my day" stories.
It got worse when I started to run over to dinner to give Busy Girl her hairbrush that she left at home. Staff member then starts in on something like:
[begin condecensing instruction about the ways of camp] "Weelllllll, I don't know, some kids don't do well if they see their parents...blah, blah, blah..." (nervous laughter, she tries to make a not-so veiled joke)." If you go over there, I'm afraid we can't let you see her on Sunday. I'll be HAPPY to take the brush to her!" [/condescending instruction about the ways of camp].
I was still getting deflected, and, I realized I was being "tolerated" because I am an old. I assured her that it wasn't a problem for Busy Girl, and, that I had been doing it for years, but, I let her take the brush and I didn't get to see Busy Girl. I follow all the rules and I don't stay long or make a scene if I see her during the week, but, that was that.
When did this happen? I don't need instruction about how things work there, but, somehow, I have morphed into one of the doddering fools we used to make fun of, but, I sure don't feel any different.
* I have a feeling there are many more people than I know about who know me in real life who are reading this site. If you are a camp person, I will get over it, don't get your drawers in a wad.
** I'm not mad that this girl was doing her job by asking me who I was, she was right to do so.
« I'm done now!
Ouch. I think you're gracious to acknowledge that they're doing their jobs, but I understand your sentiment, too.
I feel your pain. I had a similar moment at the YMCA tonight. I walk in with 3 kids, one in the stroller, a huge mommy bag over my shoulder with all the things one might need for an afternoon at the pool. I was wearing my Lands End tankini, feeling a little too many rolls around the middle (thanks to having 3 kids in 6 years), and at the front desk were these perky little 15-year old girls flirting with these buff sixteen-year-old guys. I thought, I must look like such a frumpy old mom of three, but I don't feel any different than when I was a perky young teenager. *Sigh.* It's pretty depressing.
I'm jealous. When I was younger I always wanted to be able to go back and work summers at camp when I was adult. Except for a year in high school as a counseor in training I never made it back.
yeah, those "When I was a camper here" stories when you talk about riding up in your covered wagon and whipping up a passel of beans on the open fire might date you a wee bit.
I have a similar experience when I encounter a former Kindergarten student and they say, "Oh, I just graduated from Yale and I plan to start med school in......".
See, Kindergarten has a HUGE impact on future education plans! LOL ~C
At least she didn't call you "madam." I hate that. Your still in the club. They just don't know it.
Remember though, you have one very important 'Smug Factor' point in your favour - you KNOW the same thing is going to happen to them too one day! Enjoy and bask in that knowledge!
I've had that with the schools I've worked in, you go away for a couple of months and there is a newbie trying to show you round or something. It was nice yesterday, I phoned Olivier's school and the secretary recognised my accent and called me by name after three years absence!
And here I thought this entry was going to be about farting. Boy was I surprised when you were no longer talking about bodily functions!!!
I have taken to calling myself "frumpy mother of two" although I know I feel more like a "cool chick who happens to have two kids" and I know that I have also reached that place where people think you are clueless. I love to surprise the kids with my unending and very current knowledge of all things pop-culture and hip. I can talk about anything on MTV with passion and knowledge and even discuss music on levels not known to many FMOT.
But at the end of the day, I am still a FMOT and not 23 any more. Boo-hoo. I think I would rather have enjoyed an entry about farting. This one just depressed me. ;)
I think you need one of those wonderful moments where the clueless waitress/liquor store clerk cards you.
When I was a waitress I used to card people I knew were far past the age limit because I always got a bigger tip :0
I look at myself in the mirror just before I step into the shower and think, when did I start to look like that? I don't FEEL like that; I still am the same person I was in highschool and college. And I'm how old? Older than 35. Sure doesn't seem like it.
I spent many summers working at a summer camp, so I read you loud and clear.
That familiar ground shook and threw you into the alternate universe, didn't it. Been there and had it done to me. Aren't we who we were and just wearing the disguise of a few years? Or have we really become those out of sinc oldsters who need direction in the ways of the world? I just saw some of the "kids" I went to elementery school with and they look OLD, but we took up the conversation as if a day had not clicked by. You handled it right...the longer the explanation spiel goes the more you would look like the cranky old person to those young whippersnappers. If they only knew that you know what they are still trying to find out. And it was good for a laugh, right? There are perks, like getting to go home to a great house and have a glass of wine....maybe some chocolate and anything but camp food? Life just keeps getting better.
Hi, thanks for the comment on Purseing...I agree that it's a very cool blog and always finds new styles...not that I can afford most!
Anyway, we have recently launched a blog directory, delightfulblogs.com, and I'd love to have Busymom as part of the directory. You can submit via the site. Currently there are about 200 smart and stylish blogs in the directory and I think the thousands of gals who visit the directory each month will enjoy discovering your blog as much as I did.
All the best,
Lynda
Delight.com
Delightfulblogs.com
Hipstercards.com
I took my six year old to a "you & me" session of camp a few weeks ago. It's essentially overnight camp for kids who are too young for it-each child is accompanied by one adult family member. The counselors weren't in cabins with us, but they lead activities. It was a kind of warmup for the rest of the summer for them, since they never really had to worry about being truly responsible for the kids.
One of the other moms and I had a great time listening to and watching the counselors interact with each other, especially the unconsious posturing between the genders. The thing that really hit me was that, while I still internally feel the same as I did at that age, I don't feel like they act, and I'm glad of it. The experience left me with a change of attitude-instead of thinking I feel young but aren't anymore, I think *they* feel like grown ups but aren't yet. And I am. So phhhhhhhhbbbbbbt on them.
Wait, what was I saying about being a grown up??
I hate when you get deflected.
At least they didn't ask if you were a camper's grandma. Heh.
But still, it would have been nice if SOMEONE had at least recognized who you are. Tough times, Mom. And too bad.
Who wouldn't recognize that hairband and the little mole above your mouth? What? That's NOT real a picture of you in the banner?
I feel your pain.... ugh!! have fun!
Being on camp "faculty" --- (ooh, important) gave me ownership and my biggest sorrow is others have taken over MY camp. Young people who don't know near enough about the advice they are handing out. Having said that I don't know anyplace in this world where the word 'faculty' or 'staff' takes on more weight than at a summer camp.
Enjoyed your comments. I could certainly relate now that I am older -- much older than you.