$800

I'm going on retreat this weekend. Why I thought it would be a good idea to take a van load of teenagers to a camp covered in 8 feet of snow 2 days after New Year's, I can't quite remember...

I would have loved it as a teen, and when I casually mentioned the idea this summer, they all flipped out, so I knew I was on to something. 7 months later, it's time to head up to camp for the winter retreat.

Out of 24 possible kids in the Leaders-in-Training program, 13 signed up, which is a very good number- enough for it to be worthwhile to go (4 kids would have been lame), but manageable. The itinerary and activities are all planned, the menu is set, the kids have been emailing with last minute excited emails, and I was feeling good... until yesterday.

The plan was that I would drive to camp today to pick up one of the vans. My dad would be driving down on Friday with the other van. We would load up the kids and the luggage and head to the tundra. Kind of a pain in the neck- all the driving up and back, but it was the best option... Until yesterday, when the heavens opened up and dumped several inches of snow at camp and beyond. 15 passenger vans are not recommended for transporting groups of people because the center of gravity is higher, which means they tip over more often than other vehicles. When I first started working here, I was surprised our camp was using them at all, because most places won't insure them, but our insurance is fine with it, so I went with it. And in the original plan, I felt fine. But then my dad called to tell me that traveling in the vans was going to be too dangerous, which I had already been thinking, but ignoring, because if that was the case, my plans would be completely changed.

Once it had been spoken out loud, however, I knew there was no turning back. If something were to happen to kids I was responsible for, and I had already been aware that I was not choosing the safest option, I don't think I could live with myself. Ignorance is bliss, but unfortunately, I had been warned. And let's be honest, a 26 year old with a bad driving record shouldn't be driving an unsafe vehicle filled with kids for 3 hours in the snow. So I called 5 bus companies to see if I could get a last minute bus. Absolutely. For $800. Ugh. Camp has exactly ZERO extra money, much less $800.

Last month I cancelled the Leaders-in-Training meeting because it was really snowy and icy and I didn't want kids to have to drive all the way to my office at night in a storm. Their reaction was something similar to if you killed Santa in front of a group of kids. And that was just a monthly meeting. Cancelling the retreat is not an option. And so Friday morning, myself, 14 teenagers, and a fat bulldog puppy will be enjoying an $800 trip to camp in a school bus. Let the adventure begin...

Office Dog

Olivia has decided she needs her own office. The office across the hall from mine is used by our part time assistant who comes in once per week. The last time D was here, Olivia dragged all of her toys across the hall and made herself at home. So now when we arrive at work, she sits in front of the door and barks until I let her in. And even though I move all of her toys back to my office every afternoon, she drags them all back over throughout the day. She likes to sit in the doorway and chew on her toys. She still gets up and follows me every time I go make a copy or go to the bathroom, but my little baby also needs her independence. She works hard, so clearly, she's earned her own office.

BIG NEWS

Two months ago I applied to a program called "Operation Purple". Run by the National Military Family Association, this program send kids whose parents are deployed to summer camp for free. Camps can apply to be part of the program and if accepted, close down for a week and welcome just kids for this program. Camps offer traditional camp programming, as well as educational programming provided by Operation Purple. Operation Purple covers 100% of the costs involved in sending kids to camp.

When I found out about the program, it was a Tuesday. The application deadline was that Friday, and so I dropped everything and worked hard to put together a proposal (including photos, a budget, logistical details, and several essay questions). I thought it might be a long shot. It seemed too good to be true. Last summer we averaged 80 kids per week. In my proposal, I said we could accommodate 120 kids, which is less than the 155 beds we actually have, but I didn't want to bite off more than we can chew. I figured that from 80 to 120 wasn't that huge of a leap. But having 120 fully paid kids would be a dream come true.

Today I received a call letting me know that we've been accepted!

I am thrilled and so is the Board.

I feel like this is the beginning of a really positive turn for this camp. We are going to grow and succeed and I am proud to be part of the process.

Impressive

The conference was fantastic. The information was interesting and useful, and most of the presenters left me feeling inspired and excited. Plus, the conference was held at a SPECTACULAR camp. A camp utopia really. 6000 acres of land, every program area imaginable, state of the art facilities, and millions of dollars in funding each year. I was blown away.

I had a really funny experience the first day. Because of flight schedules, I arrived a day early (as did a handful of other people). I joined in a tour of the facility with a group of Outdoor Educators from the community. At lunch, myself and another woman who had come early for the conference and I were speaking with a guy we'd met on tour. He asked us what we were doing and we told him we were there to learn about fundraising, etc. After several minutes, he asked us what our positions were and we both told him "Executive Director".

Now, I like to blog about my cool title and I like to admire my fancy business cards, but the reality is, I work for a struggling little camp and, other than my mom, no one really cares about my title. And so, in real life, I rarely mention it.

So when I told the guy I was an Executive Director, I figured he'd smile and nod politely like usual. No. Craziest reaction EVER.
"Executive Director?! Both of you? Here you are saying you're just fundraisers and you're Executive Directors. Whoa. Executive Director. Yeah, fundraisers, uh huh. Executives..."

And then he shook his head in awe and kind of walked away. It was weird, hilarious and kind of fabulous, because let's be honest, impressing someone is always kind of cool. Especially since I'm used to apologizing for something my lame camp did wrong.

Anyway, the rest of the conference was lots of comparing camps with other camp directors, listening to lectures and taking notes.

Now I'm back home with my darling baby who is now 16 pounds of bulldog. She doesn't like to go potty outside because it is too cold and my queen size bed is barely big enough to accommodate both of us and she somehow manages to get me to the edge of the bed and off my pillow every night. Either that or she sleeps with her face covering mine. But I am very happy to have her back.

Leaving Puppy

When I wake up in the morning it is to one of the following scenarios: A.) a tiny paw resting on my cheek while baby bulldog licks my face and chews my hair until I wake up. or B.) My alarm rings and I awake with baby bulldog's face pressed against mine, her snoring louder than you would expect such a little thing to be capable of. When it is the later scenario, it usually takes 10-15 minutes of cuddling and moving her around to wake up. And since neither of us really enjoys the morning, we always seem to convince each other to snooze for just a few more minutes.

Once we finally wake up, we go right outside to go potty, have breakfast and then play on the floor for a while. Then I get into the shower and baby howl/squeal/yelps for the entire time I'm in there. It's been 3 weeks of this happening every day but sometimes I still jump out halfway through to make sure she isn't being torn limb from limb (for the record, she's always fine, just unhappy about being left out).

Eventually, we make out way into the office where we play some more, go outside and the baby sits on my lap while I work. When we go home, there is more playing, more lap sitting and also time for her to play with, bite and sit on my roommates.

In the three weeks I have had baby bulldog, we have not been apart for more than 2 hours at a time. But that is going to change this week. Tomorrow I am getting on an airplane and heading to New York for a fund raising for camps conference. Ordinarily, I would be thrilled. Anytime I can get on a plane, I'm excited. But the added bonus of going to a camp, hanging out with camp people, talking about camp stuff... I can't think of anything better! But now I'm a puppy mom and the thought of leaving my baby is making me burst into tears and feel sick every time I think about it.

After agonizing over the best possible situation for her, I finally decided to send her back to the breeder's to be boarded. They still have 4 puppies from her litter left, so she will have lots of company and love. Plus, the breeder spends a lot of time making sure the puppies are cared for, and knows puppies better than I do, so I know she'll be safe and looked after.

I am terribly afraid she will think I am taking her back and that her brothers and sisters will make fun of her for being returned, or that she will completely forget me and be so happy to be back with them that when I come back for her, it will be the same trauma as when I first brought her home. It's absolutely awful. And yes, I've considered canceling my trip, despite having been so excited about this conference that I was planning to pay my own way if the Board didn't approve it (they did, and so, on top of all of the fabulousness of being camp related, it's also a free trip!). But that was pre-puppy, so now I'm just feeling stressed out. I hope it is fun for her to play with other puppies for a few days, and she doesn't even realize I'm gone until I come back to get her and life is good. Ugh.

Puppy Kindergarten

Olivia started puppy kindergarten today! She was definitely the cutest puppy there, and even the teacher oohed and ahhed over her.

She had to wear a harness and leash, which we tried on before we left and she HATED. She was also VERY nervous when we arrived, and spent the first few minutes shaking. She calmed down eventually and let all of the people pet her and jumped and played with the other dogs.

We started out with free play time. There were 5 dogs total, and the teacher separated them accordingly. Livi and a dog named Whiskey were the youngest and smallest and so they were in one area, Molly and Henry had already been to a few classes and were more comfortable, so they were in one area, and then Cody was in his own area because he wasn't socialized and wanted to kill all of the other dogs.

After free play, we sat in a circle and the teacher talked to us for a while, then we worked on a few different lessons, then more free play and then we were done. Class was about an hour and 15 minutes. Olivia seemed to enjoy herself and I learned a lot. We have been practicing a lot and I am feeling much more confident. I am excited for next week!

Livi Goes to Camp

Camp Dog at camp for the first time!

She didn't love it, but she will. It was freezing cold and the wind was bitter, so I can't blame her. I don't enjoy camp when it's like that either.

I was worried about the 3 hour car ride, but she was really good. She slept most of the way there and back, and when she was awake, she was content to play with one of her toys on the passenger seat.

She liked laying in front of the fireplace, and she really liked my dad, and she will eventually love our home away from home.

I tried to get her to walk around with me as I collected items from THE LIST, but that ended in me carrying an enormous keyboard and a 14 pound baby bulldog across camp in the snow. But we lived through it and I found most of the things on the list. I had to resist smashing them into a million pieces, but I was good. This isn't over, let me be clear about that, but I was completely, 100% respectful and gathered all of his stuff.

To Be Continued...

Love and Frustration

I have never before in my life been as absolutely in love and yet, wanted to strangle something as much as I do this puppy. She is sweet and innocent and every time I look at her, my heart melts. But she frustrates me so much sometimes I have to hold my breath so that I don't scream out loud.

I'm trying to be patient. She is 9 weeks old, a tiny baby that knows nothing. She doesn't even know her own name yet. It's not fair to get mad at a helpless little infant.

But between the biting and the potty training, I am at my patience limit and I don't know where I will find more. I've read the books, googled, talked to the vet and the breeder. I'm doing everything I'm supposed to do, but she bites, a lot, all the time. Not only does it hurt, and make me mad, I'm stressed out because I feel like I'm a bad dog owner because I'm raising a future psychopath that will maim an innocent child when she gets bigger. Equally as maddening as the biting is the potty training. It started out so well. She always goes to the bathroom when I take her outside and so I take her out constantly. And we're still doing that, but a few days ago, she developed a bladder infection and so she has been having accidents. (Which, on a side note, I diagnosed because I am an awesome puppy mom with great instincts and then the vet confirmed my suspicion despite telling me not to bother coming in because it was probably nothing).

How can I get mad at a helpless baby that's sick? I know, I'm the worst person alive. But tonight, I took her outside, she went potty. We came inside, and she immediately peed on the couch. So I took her back outside, she went potty. I brought her back inside, took the cushion off the couch and cleaned it and put it aside to dry. 10 minutes later, she peed on another cushion! She rarely has accidents, and never on the furniture. I didn't know if I should laugh or burst into tears. I decided that since the couch only had one dry cushion, and I was sitting on it, that she should be done with the couch. I put her in her bed in the kitchen and gave us a little break from each other.

When I came upstairs an hour later, she looked so sad and innocent and I felt like the most awful puppy mom. So we went to the living room to play. And despite doing everything like the book says, she bit me, hard, in the face. At which point I literally clenched my fists to avoid picking her up to kill her. Rage. I went into the other room and burst into tears. And as I was sitting on the floor crying, I could hear her crying because she's a baby and still doesn't really know her way around the house and she didn't know where I went. And when she found me, she crawled into my lap and put her head on my chest and then licked my cheeks. Pure love.

I take it personally every time she bites and every time she pees inside, despite the fact that I know she is a little baby that doesn't know any better. So now I don't know what to do. Right now I'm holding a 12 pounds loaf of skin and teeth that has the hiccups for the fourth time today and is having a difficult time keeping her eyes open, but is giving it her best attempt because she loves to bite at the mouse whenever I work at the computer. I am hoping tomorrow will be a better day.

8 Classes Later

Pottery is finished and I could practically serve an army of elves with my end result. Definitely worth all of the hard work!

Fight

So.

Angry.

I.CAN'T.BREATHE.

Next year I am budgeting in anger management and therapy costs into our expenses, because I am literally on the verge of violence.

I can hardly even type this because I am so outraged I am seeing white with rage.

The Boss is back. He is like a virus that you can't cure. A plague, an annoying faulty wire in your car that you can't find but keeps malfunctioning. He is persistent and we can't get rid of him. And I'm trying to be the bigger person and just take things as they come. But he is the most awful human being on the planet and he has a way of getting under my skin.

Just to remind you, this is a struggling camp that, up until he was fired from, he had been hired to help save. He knows our budget is negative numbers. And yet, he has already fought for every last penny he could squeeze out of us. He has argued over the year balance for his pension, mileage, etc. Dude, you stole a bunch of money and got fired, just tuck your tail between your legs and GO AWAY.

No.

So yesterday I received an email with a list of items that he had left at camp. A guitar, some CDs, etc. Included on the list were prices (vastly over inflated prices by the way) and a message saying that since we couldn't seem to find the items, he would like a check sent. $1200 worth of stuff.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?

This is a man who routinely collected both reimbursement for gas AND mileage, paid for swimsuits and sandals for him and his children, and SO many other things I can't continue or I will literally have to punch this computer. He is demanding $30 for the charger for his blackberry. CAMP PAID $270 FOR THAT BLACKBERRY. I am so filled with rage over this, I feel like my head is going to explode. How dare he?!

I emailed the Board President as calmly as I could, but he called me right away and asked how many cups of coffee I'd had that morning, so perhaps I wasn't as cool as I could have been. He was cool. He calmly explained that we wouldn't be paying for the items and to try to look for them at camp again. I know where some of them are, and I have been mentally imagining myself smashing them with a hammer and bringing him a bag full of debris over and over. Truthfully, I'd like to smash his fat face with a hammer. This guy is the scum of the earth and he won't go away.

HE STOLE FROM US, and now he is back to demand more.

No.

The Board should have demanded the THOUSANDS of dollars he cost this camp, but they didn't, and now he's back like a parasite.

But I've got a plan.

If he wants a fight, he's going to get a fight.

Camp Dog

Olivia's second day at the office and she is working hard as the Camp Dog. In between power naps, she enjoys sitting on my lap, resting her head on my wrist as I type and as gently and innocently as she can, lifting post-it notes off my desk. She also enjoys playing with her toys that are spread around my office, going outside to play in the yard and, as of today, leaving my office to go into other offices and visit people. She gets cuter and more outgoing by the day.

Sleeping With Puppy

I have been a puppy mom for a little over 48 hours now. It's going well. Puppy is adjusting. She is only 7 1/2 weeks, which is VERY young for a puppy, so she pretty much eats, sleeps, goes to the bathroom and cries. Her cry is more of a squeal/yelp/howl, which sounds like she is being tortured. She made that awful noise the entire 45 minute car ride home, and pretty much the first 2 hours she was at home. But gradually, she adjusted to her puppy bed, and then the kitchen, dining room, living room, downstairs, upstairs, etc. It was a long day of introducing her to new rooms, letting her nap, feeding her, taking her outside and then repeating the process. But now she is pretty well adjusted to my house, my roommates and to me, so she is crying less.

Her kennel is in my bedroom because I didn't want her to be afraid, and the books said that if you can talk to the puppy, she will calm down and go to sleep. On Sunday night, I put her in her kennel and she fell right to sleep. She woke up around midnight and I took her outside, but then she slept until 6:30. Dog owning= easy.

Wrong.

Monday night, I put her in her kennel, got into bed and then spent the next 20 minutes listening to her squeal. Talking to her didn't help, ignoring her didn't help. It was awful. The following video is of her making the most awful noise around. I can't seem to get it to flip upright, but the noise is the most important part anyway.



After 20 minutes, I couldn't take it anymore. She is a tiny little baby and so I decided to bring her into my bed and calm her down, and then put her in her kennel when she fell asleep. Sleeping in my bed isn't a good option because I was afraid she would pee, or fall off the bed or that I would squish her in the middle of the night. But as soon as I laid down with her, she lunged at my neck, wrapping all 8 pounds of her around me, sighing deeply and then immediately passing out.

And so that's how we slept. Her little head next to my ear, snoring loudly for such a little creature, and me doing my best to sleep with my new neck warmer. But she didn't pee, fall out of bed, I didn't squish her and she didn't cry. We'll see how tomorrow goes.

Puppy

In just 2 days, I will be the proud puppy mother to a 7 week old bouncing baby bulldog. I am very excited. I am having some guilt issues over getting a purebred dog from a breeder, rather than rescuing a dog from the humane society, but I really want a bulldog, I have for a really long time. So breeder it is.

I met the breeder 7 weeks ago when the puppies were a week old. I knew she was the one immediately. She was the size of a hamster and couldn't hear, see or even move very much the first time I saw her. I was scared to even touch her. Since then, I have visited weekly and it has been really fun to see her grow and develop into a puppy with a personality.

Yesterday I went to 2 different stores to stock up on supplies. I bought a dog bed, food and water bowls, a leash and collar, grooming supplies, floor cleaner, treats, and food. It was very overwhelming because there are a million brands and different options for everything you need. But I think I got everything I wanted, so I'm ready.

And here's an interesting fact that I learned: dog toothpaste comes in two flavors- chicken and beef, and the beef flavored is ten cents more expensive than the chicken. I decided the extra ten cents must mean it's better, so I went with the beef.

And now I just have to wait until Sunday to bring her home! So much excitement!!

Support

Why do people blog? It's kind of a weird thing to do. I have kept a journal for years and years, all of my private thoughts and venting and secrets. I like to write because it helps me process through things, but the idea of a blog is strange because it assumes that there is someone out there who is actually interested in all of that dribble that I let tumble out of my head, onto paper. This summer, I was SO unbelievably busy I didn't have time to write in my journal or keep in touch with my family and friends, so I started a blog to keep in touch. I could type in short bursts, whenever I had a calm moment in between craziness and eventually would write out everything that was going on.

Secretly I imagine myself as fabulous and interesting as Carrie Bradshaw and that my fans are hanging off my every word. In reality, I know that my "fans" are my mom and my best friend X, and most of the time, they have already heard me rant and rave about whatever it is that I write about. But a girl can dream, right. And so I blog. I blog, and I imagine greatness.

But it turns out I have readers (thanks by the way!). I've had a few tough days at camp these last couple of weeks and all of the frustration, anger, and worry came out as I typed about the challenges. And a funny thing happened. People responded. I received emails from several people that I didn't even know read my blog. They offered advice and suggested ideas for me to try, and they also provided me with encouragement and kind words. They let me know that I'm not alone in this, and reminded me that what I'm doing matters. It was extremely meaningful to me and I can't even begin to express my gratitude. I used to work for a large organization, with many co-workers in many departments and at other locations. I am definitely a person who enjoys working as a team and takes strength and encouragement from those around me. I still haven't completely adjusted to my empty office, so it was nice to have some response.

And last week was outstanding. Many of the projects I'd been working on finally came together and I met with the Board President and VP and they were so supportive and excited about my work. I was busy and successful and I feel re-energized and excited to start new projects and move forward, closer to the summer every day.

More Mail Merge

3 weeks after the initial conversation where the Board President insisted that the annual campaign letters be personalized (so instead of saying, "Dear Friends of Camp" it says "Dear John Smith"), and we had to scrap 2 weeks worth of planning and work to find a printing company to accommodate our needs as well as our budget, we have a resolution. Board President called a friend of a friend who owns a printing company and could cut us a deal. This morning, I got the estimate. To have the letters mail merged added $900 onto the price (which makes me think I'm totally in the wrong business, because that seems EXCESSIVE, but everything these days seems expensive, so that's just that).

I called Mr. President himself to say, "dude, no way" (er, well something like that) and he replied with, "Yeah, let's just do them as "Dear Friend of Camp". At which point it was like a scene from a movie where everything rewinds really quickly and you see a flashback of three weeks ago, and I slammed my palm against my forehead, gritted my teeth and told him, "okay, no problem" even though what I really meant was, "I TOLD YOU THAT THREE WEEKS AGO!! AM I INVISIBLE OR ARE YOU JUST TRYING TO GIVE ME A STROKE?!?!?"

So now the letters are being printed and life can move forward and the mail merge drama is over. Life is good.

Overwhelmed

This is a hard job, but most of the time, I feel that every ounce of effort is worth it because I so deeply believe in this camp. I know that it is a diamond in the rough and that in 10 years, I will think back to this time and laugh, and be swollen with pride when I look at the growth and improvements.

But right now, we are a run down, poorly performing, crap hole camp that has a long history of bad directors (sometimes corrupt, sometimes just incompetent, sometimes BOTH). Enrollment is 1/3 of what it should be, the budget is a very painful example of what it means to be failing, buildings are collapsing, and every time I turn around, I find something else that has been mishandled in the past (re: paying thousands of dollars per month on insurance for vehicles we don't own, poor record keeping, inaccurate budget, I could go on...).

Where does one even begin the journey to fixing this mess? Well, when you're an idealistic 26 year old with little experience but an unwavering belief in what you're doing, you start with love and devotion, combine that with hope for the future and faith in what you are doing. And you believe, deeply, passionately, unwaveringly, believe in what you are doing. And you let that energy propel you through all of the roadblocks and challenges. And then you make a "to do" list with a million things on it, you call and email every single smart person you can think of to have coffee, lunch or just a short conversation with, and you do your best to learn. And you humbly admit that you don't know what you are doing and are open to EVERY bit of advice people offer.

In the past few weeks, I have done all that. I have worked so hard and in between working, I have made contact with 3 past camp directors (the good ones), parents, community members, priests, directors of other camps, and a variety of other people who are willing to talk to me. My head is filled and swimming in information and ideas. It's exciting.

Kinda.

It's also kinda frustrating and overwhelming.

The more I learn, the more I realize just what sort of mess I'm sitting on and just how enormous this mountain I'm trying to climb actually is. It's so much bigger and more difficult than I ever expected and sometimes I am afraid. I don't know if I can do this. I am still feeling defeated and unsure of what to do after my conversation with Sister, and I can't seem to shake it off and move forward. I just feel like, "what's the point?" If I can't do anything for kids that need help, if I can't fix problems that we have with operations, if everything I do is dictated by who has the most money, than what exactly can I do? I'm still being held accountable for everything, but I'm not actually allowed to do what I think needs to be done.

I don't think love and devotion are enough to help this camp. I don't think hope or even faith is doing much. My unwavering belief in the potential is, well, wavering. And I don't know how to make any of it better. I'm too young and too inexperienced to be doing this alone. It's not fun or rewarding or easy. It's just really draining and exhausting, and I'm exhausted. I need guidance and support. I need encouragement and for something positive to happen.

"Racist"

There is a convent in the inner city near our office that has been sending kids to camp for many years. The Sisters fundraise about $30,000 to send kids each summer. Camp welcomes about 40 campers each of the first three weeks of summer. With our enrollment as low as it is (some weeks had only 50 out of 155 beds filled), these kids make up a huge percent of campers during those first weeks.

The kids that come from the Sister's are wonderful, sweet kids. But they have had difficult lives. They live in a very poor, violent neighborhood. They have lost relatives to gang violence, have parents in prison, are keenly aware of drugs, prostitution and other terrible things going on all around them. It's tragic, and not fair and camp is a wonderful place for them to come and be carefree kids for a week each summer. Giving kids a life changing experience in an outdoor setting is the reason I work at camp. This is my whole career.

The Board loves to sit around and talk about what good work our camp does, particularly with these kids. They love to tell potential donors about the kids and they love to show smiling happy pictures of groups of campers playing together. They brag about the diversity of our camp and how everyone goes home as best friends. But it's not that simple. The first three weeks of camp are awful. There are nonstop problems in the cabins, staff are overwhelmed and stressed out, and parents complain like it's their job. In the Spring, I did a calling campaign to remind former campers to sign up before summer. At least 10 parents commented that they either weren't sending kids back because of a bad experience the year before, or that they would send their kids back, as long as I would tell them which weeks were the "special" weeks, so they could avoid them. After the first three weeks of camp this summer, I talked to at least a dozen more parents who said, "I'm not racist but, why didn't anyone tell me I signed my kid up during a special week?"

These calls infuriated me at first. How dare people be so racist?! But the more conversations I had, the more I started to understand parents. Our brochure and dvd show mostly white kids, and the other weeks of the summer, 99% of the kids are white suburban kids. So I can understand parents being surprised and a little annoyed that no one says anything about the difference in the first three weeks. And I can understand that when their campers come home and tell them that kids in their cabin were talking about drugs or gangs, suburban parents would be upset.

Camp is a healing place for kids and there were several instances this summer where kids opened up about issues in their lives that other kids, my staff and I couldn't even begin to relate to. How do you silence a kid who starts talking about a recently killed brother or jailed father? You don't. But then you take phone calls from parents who are angry because they don't want their kids exposed to that.

As I plan next summer, I am bound and determined to address this issue. No one wants to have the conversation because everyone is afraid of coming across as racist. But I'm going to have the conversation particularly because I'm not racist, but because I love kids and want this camp to work, and I am WELL aware that it's not, no matter how many times we congratulate ourselves for being so diverse.

"S" runs a local organization that focuses on urban issues and addressing issues relating to diversity. I had coffee with her last week to ask her for her opinion. The idea of separating Sister's kids into one closed week has been in my head, but I was terribly afraid of what people would think if I segregated camp. Within 2 minutes of the conversation, "S" summed it up and then for the next hour, we had the most empowering, exciting conversation I can remember having. She said, "this isn't a racial issue. You have a disproportionate number of traumatized children. Yes, the majority of them are minorities, don't deny that, but if you had a busload of minority children from the suburbs, you wouldn't have this problem. These are kids that witness violence and are not going to counseling afterwards. They are not average kids, they are deeply wounded kids. And you will always have problems when you try to mix traumatized kids with average kids and think they will all just blend." After she said that, we talked about the idea of separating them and during that week, bringing in some specialists to help facilitate break out sessions, healing conversations, and deal with issues. My staff are 20 year olds with little experience. I will never be able to get educated, professionals to come for a whole summer, earning $200/week, but I could get them for one week. Lots of camps separate out weeks for kids with illnesses, parents who are in the military, etc. Why not have a special week for these kids?

I spent the week feeling so excited. I started researching grants, and thinking about just what a huge difference we could make by being intentional with our focus. And then I had breakfast with Sister.

I knew it was going to be a tough sell. She has been sending kids to camp for a LONG time and change is never easy. I also knew she felt strongly about giving them a "normal" camp experience (wtf that means, I dunno...). But I was so excited and didn't know how she could argue with helping kids who need it.

1. Deny that they are any different than any kid and that they don't need help.
2. Claim (in the sweetest voice and calmest manner) that the Camp Director needs to develop tougher skin and learn to take criticism from parents, rather than trying to change things.
3. Claim (in said sweet manner) that the Camp Director is racist.
4. Explain to Camp Director that diversity is important and that by putting them all together in one week (rather than three weeks) that the diversity of camp will go down. When Camp Director agrees that diversity is important but points out that three token weeks doesn't really count as a "diverse camp", reiterate to Camp Director that diversity is important (pretending she didn't just say that back).
5. Tell Camp Director that her staff are not very well trained and need to be taught to listen to kids and facilitate difficult discussions.
6. Tell Camp Director camp is ABSOLUTELY NOT the place for any type of therapy.
7. Tell Camp Director that there are great problems in society when it comes to race and that camp needs to fight those battles.

Speechless.

1. "Traumatized" isn't me judging. I can tell you 8 specific stories of things campers told me about drugs, gangs, violent deaths, and lost parents. That doesn't include what my staff dealt with. These kids need help. Don't deny it.
2. I have thick skin, but when an issue comes up again and again, it's my responsibility to address it. In addition to trying to deal with this situation, I am also going to get a ladder for the dock and trail mix at the camp store. you know why? Because they were REOCCURRING comments and so I will respond. When parents tell me the same thing over and over again, I need to do something about it.
3. I'm not racist.
4. I want camp to be diverse too, but 3 weeks of diversity and then the rest of the summer with almost zero non-white campers isn't diverse.
5. My staff were awesome and very well trained. But they were also 20 years old, in their first or second year of higher education, and have never been traumatized. What exactly do you think I can do with them in 6 days of training to prepare them for a busload of traumatized children?
6. Camp is a great place for therapy because it's a healing peaceful place where kids feel safe and loved and able to open up and be themselves and share their feelings.
7. Yes. There are problems in society with race. But what are we accomplishing in 6 days of camp with untrained staff and unsuspecting kids? We are further alienating these groups because they walk away with a negative experience.

Towards the end of the conversation, she kindly suggested that maybe she should take her kids to a YMCA camp... Um, excuse me? Yes, that's what she said. She threatened me. She threatened me with $30,000. And me and my deficit-ed budget can't say a word about it. Because with $30,000, she calls the shots. I asked if she was considering the Y because they had a better suited program or because she disagreed with my suggestion (I used to work for the Y, I know what they have to offer). She sweetly explained that if I decided to make this change, it would be against her principles and she would have to pull her campers.

The end. There is absolutely no reasoning with that. There is no convincing her otherwise, because my whole argument is based on her kids needing something more and she flat out denies that they do, so there's nowhere for that argument to go.

I walked out feeling shocked, numb, powerless, defeated and frustrated. I'm the one who gets to deal with three weeks of camper issues, three weeks of staff stress, angry parent phone calls, and the knowledge that we have potential to do great work but we aren't. And on top of choosing not to help, our choice is actually the more difficult option, so it's sort of a double whammy.

I understand that money= power, but I still expected that good would be chosen over idleness. I don't know where to go from here, but I feel so completely deflated, I am not sure where to draw renewed motivation from.

Pumpkin Expolsion

In the spirit of fall and with Halloween around the corner, I decided to make pumpkin soup. I've never actually eaten it before, but I was reading a book and in it, they were eating pumpkin soup and the recipe was even included, and it sounded great. I imagined myself in a warm sweater, sipping soup, watching the leaves turn color and fall to the ground, and the whole thing sounded great. So I bought a pumpkin and cleaned it out and prepared to make myself some delicious soup.

Let's be really clear. These little fantasies involving me being domestic need to end. There is a reason my mother and grandmother burned their bras and sought higher education. It was so that future generations of women didn't have to stay at home making homemade soup. And in the future, I need to remember that liberated feminist= enough sense to go buy homemade soup from a nice restaurant or a high end grocery store. But I did not remember that today. Today, I played 50s housewife in the kitchen... And reminded myself the hard way why I don't want to be that.

Pumpkin soups sounds easy. The basic idea is that you combine vegetable stock with milk, add spices, dump it all into the cleaned out pumpkin, toss the whole thing in the oven for two hours, stirring occasionally to get the mushy pumpkin inside mixed with the liquid. In the end, you should have creamy, pumpkin-y soup inside a pumpkin.

At the end of two hours I had mushy pumpkin filled with something that looked a lot like runny vomit. But I had high hopes that if I stirred it and it sat a minute or two, maybe I could still have my little Autumn fantasy with soup and crunchy leaves and goodness.

And then I watched the pumpkin drain rapidly, ignoring the foil I had wrapped around it (to prevent dripping into my oven) and gushing all over my the floor, under the stove, into the drawer thing on the bottom of the stove and even getting into the heating vent next to the stove. Luckily I had pulled the metal oven rack out to check the pumpkin and so my hot (hard to clean) oven was spared from the majority of the drainage. Be aware: a half gallon of liquid can cover a kitchen faster than you can react to the soft pumpkin it was cooking in collapsing. It was a pumpkin explosion.

It took longer to clean up pumpkin soup than it did to prepare it. And I never actually got to taste it. And I'm pretty sure that for a while, every time the heat goes through the kitchen vent, it will smell like pumpkin. Lesson learned.

More Pottery

I continue to make squished little pots that sort of resemble pottery but actually look more like a three year old's Play-Dough project. I'm usually such a natural artist, so this is a surprise. But I'm not bitter, nor unhappy even. Because every time my pottery teacher asks if he can help and guides my hands, I am filled with peace and my heart gets the same content feeling that you get when you are cuddled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, sipping hot cocoa on a really cold day. I don't think I've ever been attracted to someone's spirit, but I am to his, and so I gladly exchange bad pottery for moments of bliss. Perhaps it's been too long since I last dated. But that's not really the point. I don't know that I could even date someone like that.

At my last class, as he watched me center a piece of clay (like a pro, despite him watching thank you very much) he commented that he thought I had gotten much better. I gave him a look of, "dude, you have to say that, you're being paid to be nice and teach me pottery" and he said, "you've learned to connect your energy to the clay's energy and you seem much more focused and less manic." That part made me laugh out loud because it wasn't the first time I've heard "manic" to describe me. It's been 6 pottery classes but he's pretty much got it. I think I must sign up for pottery class for the rest of my life and continue to drink in his warmth, letting it wash away mania, leaving peace in it's place... And providing me and everyone I know with ashtray/bowl/mug hybrids.

Mail-Merge

I love this job because I get to create exciting, interesting experiences for kids. Experiences they won't have at home or school or anywhere else. Experiences that will stay in their memories until they are old because they had never done anything like that before. I get to provide them with opportunities to learn something new, see something in a different light, grow their self confidence and have fun. At the same time I get to work with kids, I also get to work with staff, which, the older I get, the more I consider to be just older kids. Staff decide to work for camp because "sing songs, play games and work with kids" sounds like a really fun, easy job. Within the first hour of actually being responsible for kids, new staff have a look of complete bewilderment as they realize the job is not as easy as they'd expected. Fun yes, easy no. And with that realization comes the challenge of their life. But also, growth and learning and a completely life changing experience.

In my job, I oversee all of the growing and learning, sometimes guiding, sometimes cheer leading, but for the most part, just making sure that everything is running smoothly so that all of the campers and staff can be affected in the way camp is supposed to touch their lives. It's an incredible privilege to be part of that. In the off season, I work on all of the details of "running smoothly". It annoys me beyond words when people ask what I do during the other 9 months of the year. Do they think that I show up on the first day of camp and everything is just in place? Do they think that well-run programming happens spontaneously? The more effortless it looks, usually means A LOT Of effort went into creating it.

So it's the off season and I am busy working on the annual campaign to get money so we can operate, ordering camp store items, updating the website, planing programming for next summer, recruiting and hiring staff... the list goes on. I like having my fingerprints on every last detail of camp, and I know that I will be able to do my job even better during the summer because I have personally been involved with EVERY tiny thing about this camp, and in fact, have probably had a LONG conversation, exchanged emails with a Board member, gotten frustrated and vented to my best friend about most things that everyone will assume happened spontaneously. I'm not complaining, but I'm in awe of how much really goes in to everything. I know it will be worth it this summer as I watch campers laugh and have fun and as I watch the counselors literally grow before my eyes.

And I have to remind myself of that because the details are tedious and make me want to bang my head against a wall. Yesterday I had several, very long conversations throughout the day, with multiple people about mail-merge. Mail-merge is the process of taking a list of names and addresses and getting them into a mailing so that each person who opens the letter will see his or her own name and think, "wow, they care so much they wrote to me personally."

No one really thinks that though, because mail-merge is standard. "Standard" should not be confused with "easy" because it was not an easy process to go through. I think it's supposed to be, but we don't do anything the easy way here, and so it required me to spend many precious hours of my life talking about and agonizing over it. The Board President, who, in real life is the Vice President of a major investment banking corporation, and has two Secretaries to do all tedious mailing tasks, for some reason wants to be very involved with said mailing from yesterday. I appreciate his interest and I appreciate that he offered to have his secretary print all 2500 double sided copies in color at his office. That will save us an obscene amount of money. But he doesn't really know anything about sending a mailing of this size, nor does he know anything about printing, mail-merge or any of the things that he wanted to be involved with. And so he was making so much more work for us with each email and phone call. I eventually decided to bypass him and speak directly with his secretary and try to leave him out of some of the details, but even still, it was a ridiculous process for a letter most people will throw away.

This is not what I envisioned when I dreamed of a career in camping. I pictured much more kayaking in the sunshine and s'mores around a fire, and far less tedious office tasks...

Back to the Woods

On Thursday, I headed back into the woods. I was excited to go back to camp and excited to skip two days of work. My office has been stressful lately- economic problems haven't hit us yet, but they are coming. We are in the beginning stages of our annual campaign and everyone is stressed out about it, because we need that money to operate. Will people be in a giving mood this year? I don't know, but I'm stressed about what will happen in the months ahead. Further ahead than that, March-May looms like a black cloud. Will people be able to spend $500 for Junior to go to camp for a week? I don't know, and it makes my stomach hurt to think about. My hope is that people who saw a value in donating money will still feel that way and give, despite the state of the economy, and that when it comes time for camp, people will make their children a priority.

My therapist would say that worrying about the future is pointless and to live in the now, blah blah... And I'm trying. So I headed into the peaceful North woods.

The leaves on the trees were bright yellow, orange, and red and camp seems to have a golden glow. It was breathtaking and very calming. My dad had a fire roaring in the fireplace of his house and also outside, so everywhere I went had a really nice smoky fire smell. He's been working hard clearing trees and brush, getting rid of the random junk that still needed to go, organizing and changing camp from a run down trailer park yard into a beautiful woodsy retreat.

He showed me around and pointed out all of the projects he's done and we talked about the projects he would be working on in the future. We share a similar vision for how camp should look and when we get on a roll with planning, we tend to build off each others' energy until we are both so excited we can hardly stand it. By the time May comes, we are going to have this camp looking better than it has in years. I'm so thrilled. It makes all of the stress and hard work worth it.

Pottery

Everyone on my Christmas list is getting an ashtray. I'm not trying to encourage smoking or anything, it's just that that seems to be the only thing I can make (check the picture... it's just a random image off the internet, but it looks just like mine... you know what I searched to find it? "BAD POTTERY"... it popped right up).

It's not my fault though. I'm 100% blaming the teacher. Why? Is he not teaching? No, in fact, he is just the perfect combination of inspirational and informative, and I think, under different circumstances, I could be a pottery genius just from listening to him. The other students in my class seem to be learning, they're cranking out pottery like it's their job.

But no. Something about him has me smitten, and the smitten-ness is not allowing me to create pottery. It is allowing me to start great pieces, and then when he comes near me to encourage and inspire, I get all jittery and the next thing you know, my clay is squished into a little mess. Not cool, fun or fabulously sexy like on "Ghost". Just sorta frustrating actually. So I have been letting my family and friends know to expect ashtrays and to start preparing their excited/impressed faces, because I created art for them under great duress. I am normally a pretty crafty person, so being the worst in class is not easy. I'm concerned he is going to tell me I need to register for remedial pottery next session and that I will be in class with 8 year olds, blind people and people who have lost their arms and now use their feet for everything. I don't know if I will be able to handle it if I flunk community ed, non-graded, pottery.

Why am I smitten with my pottery teacher? I DON'T KNOW. That's the worst part. He's not big or ripped with muscles, he doesn't seem to be emotionally unavailable and he's not interested in hockey or ultimate fighting, boxing or any other sport where someone could get killed. He is short, bald, pale and quite skinny, soft spoken, extremely kind, positive and encouraging, calm, and smiles a lot... I know, who would be into that? Ick. It's a dumb crush, because, as I am the most high strung person on the planet, his peaceful calm would never work for me. Additionally, I could never be with someone who was more crafty than me. So, I'm getting over it. But people are still getting ashtrays...

Shopping in the City

All of my recent dressing up inspired me to go through my closet and evaluate my wardrobe. I ended up cleaning house and getting rid of 2 garbage bags worth of stuff. Now my closet echoes when I go near it.

So I decided to go shopping, even though I can't think of anything worse I could possibly be forced to do. I have spent the last week psyching myself up, motivating myself and doing my best to prepare.

So today I went to the mall determined to walk out of there with 2-3 pairs of nice dress pants, 3-4 nice dressy shirts, a trendy pair of jeans, some new undergarment things, and if I was really on a roll, maybe some dress boots. I haven't gone shopping with a list like that in years. Sometimes when I go to Super Target I sometimes stroll through the clothes section and pick out random shirts or pants if I am in need. Which is probably why I almost always look borderline homeless. You aren't supposed to get your clothes from the same place you buy dental floss, laundry detergent, CDs and peanut butter.

I have a grown up job and while I may not always feel like it, I am at least going to start dressing like it. Today was the day. I was going to go to a nice store and spend a lot of money and walk out with full shopping bags.

I walked into the mall and immediately felt my skin crawl. I hate the smell, the way it feels, EVERYTHING. I purposely went in the middle of the day so there wouldn't be any crowds, but it's the whole environment I hate. It's fake and icky and overwhelming and AWFUL. But I pushed through, determined to get everything on my list, reminding myself that I was mentally prepared after a full week of thinking about it.

My best friend X shops like it's her job. She LOVES to shop. Unfortunately, she is busy being an almost doctor's wife in another state, leaving me without access to her extensive closet and without her moral support and tough love that I require when shopping. I did my best to channel her spirit though, picking out trendy looking things that I didn't necessarily like, knowing that sometimes when you try things on, they actually look good and saying things to myself like, "this is nice fabric."

But after 5 minutes in the store, my head hurt and everything looked the same and made my eyes blur and I was hot, hungry, tired, and totally bored with the project. I couldn't find anything I liked, and then when I did, I realized it was because I have a very similar looking sweater or pair of pants just like it at home. And while I fully believe that expensive clothes are worth the cost because they are nice material and fit well and are high quality, anything over $10 seems like a waste to me. My favorite fleece sweatpants cost about that much and I can't think of anything better, so it seems silly to buy $100 pants if I'm still going to like the $10 ones better.

Eventually, I found some very nice, very expensive black dress pants that fit like they were made just for me and made me feel like giving a presentation right there in the dressing room, so I knew they were a good choice. It pretty much fell apart from there. Besides my beloved sweatpants, my favorite pants (that I wear at least 3 times a week... don't judge, they don't get dirty sitting in an office) are a pair of chinos I bought last year at that same store, and I found the exact same pair in a different color today. I also found a cool long sleeve shirt that isn't dressy and looks like 3 others I have at home, but it was on sale and in a color I don't have. And then I was done. I couldn't do it any more. I paid for my three items and RAN away, screaming "LET ME OUT OF HERE" as fast as I could.

As I flailed my arms and sprinted out of the mall, X's voice popped into my head and calmed me down enough to ask myself, "What Would X Do?" and so I stopped and went into another store. More crawling skin, blurred vision and discomfort, but I got a really nice sweater and a dressy sleeveless thing that I will never actually wear, but reminded me of something you'd see on a TV show where women dress in business dress clothes.

After that store, I crawled, whimpering out of there, desperate to get to my car and out of the mall, promising myself no more torture. At this rate, it will take 12 shopping trips to just get the basics on my list. I will obviously die if I have to do that again any time soon, so it's not looking good for my wardrobe. I'm wearing a zip-up fleece vest as I type this if that's any indication of just how badly my fashion situation is. But I don't care. I hate to shop and will hold out until May when all of the new tee shirts arrive for the camp store and I will take one of each of those and be set, just as I did this year. Not exactly a dress blouse or anything, but I think it will pass as business casual.

A Camp Thing

If I die in the next day or two, it will be because of an incident that happened yesterday. And yes, when you read what I did, you will judge, but, I want the chance to defend myself.

My house is really clean, I scrub floors and dust every week and I always take out the garbage. I shower daily, I wash my hands regularly. I would describe myself as a hygienic person.

But here's the deal. When you work at camp, you are dirty all the time. As soon as you wake up. As soon as you get out of the shower. I was literally dirty for 4 months and there was no amount of cleaning that could help (and believe me, I tried). It's also really busy, and so, after a few days of running around like a crazy person, eventually, you just don't have time to worry about when the last time you washed your hands was. After nine summers of camp, I have never been seriously ill and my immune system has been conditioned to fight off even the worst germs.

So yesterday, after a LONG day in the office and a late meeting still looming, I was starving and had about 10 minutes. So I dashed across the street, picked up some sweet and sour chicken and rice, DASHED back to my office to eat it and get on with the other million things I had left to do. Right as I stepped in my office door, all of the random things I'd brought in with me from my car (including my food) were bouncing around in my arms until I managed to drop everything, including my dinner.

The rice stayed in the container, but ALL of the chicken landed on the ground. So I scooped it up onto the cover of the container, and carried it in. I wasn't planning to eat it of course. I don't have ANY idea when the floor was last washed. But the chicken is the main part! So I poked through it to see if there was any hair or sand or dirt and it looked fairly clean. And so I ate it.

I think if I spent my career in an air conditioned, regularly cleaned environment, maybe I would have thrown it out and gone hungry. But I have eaten more than one sandwich that had fingerprints on it because I'd been in arts and crafts before lunch and I have cooked MANY meals over fires with a stick as my only utensil, so germs I couldn't even see didn't seem to be THAT bad. I guess I will have to wait a few days to see if I end up with a tapeworm or some awful stomach thing...

Highs and Lows

Monday High- I totally rocked my pottery class, making THREE actual bowls that in a few short weeks, once they've been fired and glazed, I will be enjoying any number of bowl needing foods out of them. I am positive that ice cream will taste sweeter, macaroni cheesier, and soup, um, soupier, knowing that my hands created the bowl that I'm eating out of. Also, I made my dreamy pottery teacher laugh several times, which was a nice addition to my successful evening of potting.

Tuesday Low- Started as a high, as I congratulated myself on working out with such great intensity. There I was running, sweating, feeling the burn. And then I looked over and realized that the woman next to me was going significantly faster than I was and she was at LEAST 6 months pregnant. So obviously, I increased my speed and secretly started racing her. Until she beat me... by a lot... without really even trying... and while simultaneously growing a child inside of her. Fine. I was going faster than the old guy to my left though. So, in terms of fitness, I would say I'm somewhere between crypt keeper and pregnant woman. I think that's a low. Whatever.

Wednesday High- For the second time in a very short amount of time I'm rocking the dress pants and heals. I feel very business-y and hardcore. It seems a little silly to dress up for myself, but at the same time, I feel powerful and professional and ready to make some deals, talk numbers, and command a room. Yes, the room is my office, and yes, I am the only one here. But I am totally empowered.

It's sunny and the breeze is blowing and life is good. I'm glad I'm not in the woods right now, but I am definitely missing it more by the day. Yesterday, my camp director friend M and I were talking about how we can both feel camp pulling us a little more each day. It's not a bad feeling.

Playing Executive

This morning was the monthly Executive Committee meeting, so instead of sweatpants like I usually wear on Fridays, I had to dig out some dress pants and heals. The meeting was at the Board President's Downtown office, where he is the Vice President of a banking corporation. He works in a fancy office, with people in suits who say, "good morning sir" when they pass him. We met in a boardroom that was bigger than my house, with a shiny table I was afraid to touch and leather chairs that probably each cost more than my car. I got several odd looks from employees that were my age when I said, "hi J. How are you this morning?" Apparently they're not on a first name/ friendly small talk basis with him.

The meeting included me and five men in business suits. All of them are old enough to be my father or even grandfather, all of them work in banking, and all of them have more spare change in their back pocket than is in my entire bank account. Small talk before the meeting was all about the recent happenings on Wall Street, which could have literally been a conversation in Swahili.

"Blah blah blah blah blah blah money" (me- oh, I know that word!) "blah blah blah bank" (me- oh, I've been to one of those!) Blah blah blah blah..." I smiled and nodded and agreed and did my best to not look as clueless as I felt. I expected that at any moment they would all turn to me and say, "okay hun, the big people are going to meet to talk about grown up stuff, why don't you run along and play with the other kids for a while."

But they never did. Instead, they pulled out their files and papers, and I did the same, and we talked about budget and projected income and other important stuff, and even though I still see myself as an awkward 15 year old, somehow, when I opened my mouth, well thought out, clear, intelligent conversation came out. I am always a little bit surprised and after the fact, wonder how it happened, but none of them seem to notice my shock, and instead ask me questions and responded to my comments. And at the end of the meeting, instead of patting me on my head and handing me a quarter (which is also what I expected), they shook my hand and told me they were impressed by my hard work and optimistic about the future and happy to have me on board. And I smiled confidently and told them that all is well or something and then went back to daydreaming about reality tv and ice cream.

I don't know when all of this happened. I don't know when I went from being a little kid playing dress up to being an adult. I feel very much like I am playing Executive Director and it absolutely blows my mind when I sit through a meeting like that and realize that they're all buying it and I've got them convinced. Maybe I need to be more confident, but their money and power and experience and age are intimidating to me. If I really thought about it, I bet I know at least 100 camp songs. You want to have a jello fight or set up an Olympic competition? I'm an expert. Unfortunately those qualifications didn't make me feel like I was one of the boys this morning. And so when they defer to me on things or tell me I am the person to take the lead, to make the call or that I should just go ahead and run with my ideas, I find myself fighting the urge to look behind myself to make sure they are really talking to me.

The men I met with this morning are great guys who couldn't be more encouraging or kind, and I think that I will learn a lot from them. And maybe, after a while, meeting with them won't feel so weird and being an adult will come naturally. Until then, I will continue to pretend to be confident while I silently remind myself to "be cool, you belong, do everything the adults do and just blend in."

Cosmos... Er, Well... Pottery?

Now that I'm out of the woods and back at home, I guess this is the "cosmos" part of Cosmos and Granola. But other than living in a major city, I wouldn't say I'm living the life of cosmopolitans, clubs and craziness. It occurred to me recently that I probably should have titled this blog "Tivo and Granola" or maybe, "Sitting on the Couch and Granola" or something a little more reflective of the other half of my life. Or maybe I should take up drinking to try to live up to the title. Although then it might be "Drinking on the couch and Granola" which would lead to "Rehab and Granola", which would be sort of ironic since that is exactly what happened this summer with my Boss and I.

Last night I had my second community education pottery class. Okay, let me just start off saying that I didn't expect to be the pottery class valedictorian or anything, but I didn't know I would be the slow kid in class. The woman on my left was tossing pottery like a factory worker trying to make quota and the woman on my right (who, by the way was a pottery minor in college) had a full kitchen's worth of dishes by the end of the night. I, meanwhile, got my ass handed to me by a lump of clay. I wasn't successful, although I will say, I am enjoying it. I find it to be very calming as long as I don't look up from my own wheel.

My pottery teacher is an art teacher/ti chi instructor who speaks in a very quiet, soothing voice. He offers a lot of positive reinforcement and talks a lot about balancing your energy with the clay's energy, which I can't decide if I love or want to roll my eyes at. He is the kind of guy I would never notice on the street, but, in the context of pottery class, am now in love with. His positive attitude, calm, patient encouragement, and his inner peace all combine to create a glow that radiates from him and makes me want to follow him as a spiritual guru, or possibly kiss him, I'm not sure which. Usually, I look for emotional unavailability combined with a high likeliness of getting into a hockey fight when I develop an attraction to a guy, so this new crush is a bit of a surprise. That being said, the jittery feeling he gives me is making me a bad potter, so somethings gotta give. Last night he tried to help me and all of a sudden I was imaging that scene from "Ghost" and then, well, that bowl ended up getting squished and I had to start over (while the potting sisters to my left and right went on to create a full set of coffee mugs, whatever, I don't even like coffee that much).

So that's my crazy life outside the woods. I'm happy to be back but yesterday I outlined the weeks for summer 2009 and I got really excited (like pottery guru touching my clay covered hands excited), so bring on the granola...

Working

I have spent the past month on a communication rampage. I have been contacting alumni, former staff, camper parents, organizations and anyone else I can get to talk to me about camp. I am determined to get the word out about us, gain some support, publicity, funding, attention... I'm sick of hearing, "oh, you're still around?" (Yes, for over 60 years actually). And it's going well. The old directors have been excited to hear from me, alumni are quick to share their experiences and parents have a lot of opinions. I started the month feeling very alone and intimidated by the huge amount of work this organization needs. I spent the whole first week alternating between banging my head against my desk or shouting in frustration, "26, does anyone else think a 26 year old is a little young to put in charge of this mess? I can barely rent a car, but no, it's cool, I'll pull us out of debt in the midst of a collapsing economy. No worries."

I've calmed down since then and as I've reached out to the community, I've been AMAZED by how many people have reached back and offered their support. It's exciting to know there are so many people who share my passion for camp and want to see this place succeed. So I've stopped shouting, and, like this summer decided that the best thing to do is put my head down and work. Just put one foot in front of the other and move. No time for drama or nonsense. Don't talk, just do. And it seems to be working. I am still overwhelmed sometimes, but I am really optimistic too. Life is good.

Back to the Office

I'm officially back! After weeks of craziness and a week of chillin', I'm back to my office... well, actually, I have a different office. I have my Boss's old office. It's kind of funny, because all of the offices are the same size, so it's not like I moved to the corner office or something amazing. But my new office window overlooks a yard with trees, rather than the roof like my old office, so I guess this is what it means to be important.

It was nice having a week to relax and rest after a long summer. After the Board meeting on Thursday, I took myself to the Art Museum to look at a photography exhibit, one of my favorite Van Gogh's, and then wander aimlessly, soaking in the fact that I wasn't in the woods anymore. I went out to dinner with my mom and brother and then stayed up late watching tivo-ed reality tv (I am totally living the life!).

On Friday I literally bummed around all day. I slept late, laid on the couch and then took a nap. It was so lazy and so fabulous. My roommates were gone for the weekend, and I enjoyed the quiet alone time. On Saturday, I cleaned my house and did some scrapbooking and was a bit more productive, so it wasn't a completely wasted weekend, but I also relaxed a little more, which was nice. And yesterday, I went on a historic home tour with my mom. It was rainy and cold, but I enjoyed it. I have wanted to take a tour like that for a long time, so I was glad I got to do it.

It's so nice to be home. Every minute of every day has been a celebration of living in my favorite city, loving my life and absorbing the goodness of my surroundings. I couldn't be happier. And now today, I am back to the office, which I am actually really thrilled about. I like being on vacation spending my days lounging around. But I am really much happier when I'm on a normal schedule and better still when I am being productive. I love this job and I am SO eager to begin all of the fall projects I have been planning. Oh and today I ordered my new Executive Director business cards. They are bright green with a campfire on them, professional but not your average boring white- totally me, but with a fancy title.

And after that, I wrote in the biggest writing my big white board would allow, "9 MONTHS UNTIL CAMP! GET EXCITED, IT'S JUST AROUND THE CORNER!!!!!!!!!!" Because, well, I've been soaking in the city long enough to really appreciate and start to miss camp. Don't get me wrong, I am not interested in going back any time soon and I want every minute of my nine months in the city. But after a few more weeks, I know that I will begin to miss camp more, and soon after that, I will begin longing for the sounds and smell of the woods. And eventually longing will turn into an ache, which will turn into an almost painful NEED to go back. It happens every year and I can already feel it beginning. But for now, I'm back to city life and loving every second.

Board Meeting

We had a Board meeting today. I gave a report on the summer and we talked about the capital campaign. It was a very positive, upbeat meeting. After the meeting, the Board met without me and then the Board President came to my office to talk to me.

"I can't offer you a contract until we approve it in October, but I can offer you a handshake. And you should get new business cards printed."

Good enough for me.

Executive Director at 26. Not too shabby...

2 years ago, after watching a particularly inspiring episode of Oprah, I defined my dream job, detailed out and wrote it down. Two years later I am here. It is as close to my description as it could possibly be. "Overnight camp with rich history, but that has room to grow. I want to be able to use my creativity and ideas to shape a camp, but that camp should have traditions from years past. Camp should be traditional, rustic, but beautiful and interesting. I would like to be the boss."

I sort of expected to work my way up and maybe by the time I was 40 or 50 I would be at an Executive level. Never mind. I am not patient anyway, I'd rather just have my dreams come true now. I'm still a little dumbfounded by the entire situation, and the past three months, as well as the future ahead hasn't really sunk in yet. Maybe going in blindly is the best option. No fear or stress if you don't know any better...

Um, WTF

Okay, so camp has been over for a few weeks, and my life, well, the job part of my life, has been in a bit of a chaotic state as of late. Nothing bad, I think I blogged about my messed up schedule before. That plan has gone accordingly. I spent a week shuttling counselors to the airport- not really working, but definitely not relaxing. Then I spent a week at camp cleaning and packing. Definitely working, but since camp isn't in session and I'm not in the office, people seemed to think I was on vacation. Hello, camp isn't gonna clean and organize itself. I believe we tried that method last year and that lead to a hellish May (anyone remember my blog about me crying in the fetal position?!?!)

And now, after 4 months of NONSTOP work, I am on vacation. It's going okay. All 4 months, I spent my final waking moments of every day passionately fantasizing about being on vacation and spending every single day of it on the couch, watching tv and not moving. And so that's what I did this weekend. And it was glorious. For like, 2 hours. And then I decided to clean, which lead to crafting, which lead to... it turns out I don't "do nothing" very well. It's nice to have the option though. Today I spent the day digging fence post holes in my backyard. It was much harder than I'd expected, and I have another full day of landscaping tomorrow, but I am sure I will love and appreciate my new fence more because I helped in its creation. But that's not the point of this rant.

Anyway, because I've been off of a normal schedule for so long, combined with not being good at relaxing, I really just want to go back to the office and get on with life. But here's the thing. Remember that whole, "Interim Exec" drama at the beginning of the summer? Yeah, easy to forget but yes, I'm still the temporary boss and yes, I still know nothing about the future. Why bother to go back to the office when I don't know what my job is anyway?! The Board has said "September or October" is when they will figure out what to do. I have been very outspoken this summer and made it clear that this is my job and I want them to officially give it to me, like, NOW... I haven't used that phrase, but that's what I mean every time I have to say something patient, calm, collected or Executive-like. I want to lay on the floor and kick my feet and say, "just tell me already!!! I don't wanna wait!" My mother has advised me against that. Apparently not very professional. But, um, hello?! Isn't my life chaotic enough with weeks of in-between-ness? Do we have to add unknown future and temporary job title to this?! Let's also add in the now standard opening of every phone call and email I get, "SO... What have you heard about the job???" and pretty much, I'm going crazy.

What have I heard? NOTHING! Well, not nothing. Worse than nothing actually. And I'm trying to tap into YEARS of therapy to be zen-like and move with the wind, instead of playing the what-if game and hyperventilating like I am naturally inclined to do. The last time I talked to the Board President he said, "let's set up a conference call to set the agenda for the Board meeting. Normally I would have you do it, but since you've never done it before, I can teach you this time." I said, "yes of course" but in my head I was saying, "normally you would have the Executive Director set the agenda... does this mean I am the Exec?? Do you think of me like that? Or is this still temporary?! Are you teaching me forever or just so you don't have to bother until the new Exec is in place?!?!?!?!" UGH!

And then... this... today... email... um... WTF?!?! What does this mean??!???? Zen-like..., seriously, I'm trying... But, um, hello?!? Is this a passive way of telling me I'm in? But why wouldn't he call and, like, officially offer me the job... so maybe I'm not in yet. WTF WTF WTF??

What does this mean?!?! How can I causally enjoy my vacation and be Zen-like when my boss is communicating like a 15 year old passing notes??? Please read below and tell me what it means.

(His email was a response to an email our Office Manager sent him. One of my counselors wants to work for us full time and apparently is bypassing me in the process. Good plan kid, keep that up... not the point though. She sent him an email asking about where to send her resume. This is the first I've heard of it from her, making this email all the more confusing and annoying.)

[Camp Director],

What makes her think we have a full time position? Actually the best way to handle this (in the nicest and most cordial way possible) is to get a hard copy of her resume and inform her there are no positions at this time. I think it is cool she likes the camp so much but we are full up except counselors etc.

It really is something our Executive Director manages and not a Board or my issue. You are the boss now! If you want to hire someone outside of the normal sphere, you would make that consideration and submit to Executive Committee. Please verbalize this to [Office Manager]. I didn't want to share all the Exec details

thanks

[Board President]

Recognize

I walked into the grocery store on my corner yesterday and the checkout girl's face LIT up. "Do you remember me?!?!" She asked me.

"You went to camp!" I said enthusiastically, although it was sort of a shot in the dark. She looked really familiar, but I couldn't say with 100% certainty that she was a camper. I hate when that happens, and I wish i could remember every single camper and their name, but at least I played it cool this time.

She was so excited/baffled to see me. "What are you doing here? You are three hours away from camp!" I told her I had heard this was a great grocery store (ironic because my roommates and I have a bit of a passionate hatred for this store, but that was an inside joke with myself at that moment).

It was so nice to see her so excited to see me. I hope that every camper from the summer would react the same way. Because I was the rule enforcer, the disciplinarian, the person in charge of giving bad news all summer, I often felt like I was the meanest person alive. But clearly, at least one camper walked away with a positive impression of me and today I was lucky enough to run in to that kid!

I'm FREE!!

I'm free!!!!!!!!! I drove home last night and I don't have to go back any time soon. I have the rest of this week, weekend and next week off. I am planning to do some serious sleeping in, watching tv and doing nothing. Camp is clean and organized, and my dad has a month by month to-do list until summer. And I am off the hook! No more responsibility!

I shouldn't make it sound so dramatic. I will be back to camp probably within September. Now that my dad lives there, going to visit isn't an afternoon barbecue, rather, a weekend up north. And once I've had some time to chill out, I will begin to think about, plan for and strongly desire to be back to camp. Actually, last night, I had 2 really great ideas for training and then I had a really fun idea this morning for arts and crafts.... so really, it's never over really. And I'm glad. I love this job. Yes, I was excited for the summer to be over, but mostly because I have learned so much and can't wait to start over and improve everything. I feel incredibly blessed to have a career that I enjoy so much and I am looking forward to getting back into the office for my Fall, Winter, Spring projects.

But right now, I am doing several home improvement projects (I can hear drilling as I type this), getting ready to welcome a puppy to my life, I signed up to take pottery class every Monday night for the next 3 months, I am going back to the gym on a regular basis, I want to road trip to Iowa to visit my bff, go out to lunch with all of my girl friends... Whew, I might actually be busier now than I was at camp. But I am responsible for only myself, not kids, staff, parents or buildings that always seem to have plumbing problems. And that feels wonderful!

Life is good.

Back at Camp

After a week of shuttling staff, I am back to camp, ready to finish cleaning, organizing and packing. There is still a lot to do and unfortunately, after my taste of freedom, I am not particularly motivated to be back in the woods. It is COLD and raining here, and there is still a lot to do. I LOVE camp, but OHMYGOSH, I want to be done. By May (really, more like November or December, but for sure by May) I will be desperate to return and have the summer back, but right now, I just want out!

I scheduled myself to have the entire week here, but I think I will actually be able to leave by Wednesday night. I have already done a lot of work and even though I have much more to do, camp is in pretty good shape, so if I just stopped whining and started working again, I'd be done...

Goodbye Staff

I dropped the last of my international staff at the airport this morning. I'm FREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so excited to no longer be responsible for anyone but myself. It is a wonderful feeling and I feel lighter than I have in weeks.

Don't get me wrong, my staff are great people and I will miss them. Each brought unique qualities and strengths to camp this summer. And all of them made me laugh, helped make my life easier and made campers happy this summer. The international staff I had at my house this week were wonderful, easy guests. They were easy going and gracious and didn't need much from me. We went to the fair, we went shopping for them to buy gifts, we went out to eat, and yesterday, O and I went to see my newborn puppy at the breeder's house and then to Ikea, where he helped me pick out a shelf for my kitchen (and helped me carry it). It was a good week. But I never felt like I could completely relax. I am still not completely done. I still have to return to camp to clean and organize and get ready for winter. I am not excited about that, but I am one step closer to being done!!

Not Quite Over

On Sunday, my remaining staff and I cleaned like our hair was on fire. We got so much done it was unreal. It was hard work and I know they were tired and looking forward to being done with camp, so I appreciated it. The amount of work we did would have taken me days, maybe weeks to do myself. There are still a few places to clean and organize, and my dad has a lot of winterizing to do, but camp is in good shape!

As of yesterday, there were just 6 of us left. We packed up our stuff and loaded into the van to return to my house for the week. Each of the international staff needs to be to the airport on a different day, and since I live just 10 minutes away, it doesn't make sense to shuttle from camp. The ride home was long. We stopped at Target, dropped one of the local staff off in the suburbs, and then headed to the mall. The international staff want to spend all of their remaining money before they go home because they don't want to change it and lose value. J's plane left last night at 7 so the mall was another important stop for us.

After dropping J off, K, C, O and I finally made it to my house. It is nice to be at home, but I'm not able to relax yet. I still have people that I'm responsible for feeding, entertaining and making sure they are cared for. No, they aren't children, but they are guests and therefore needy. Last night, after a long, exhausting day, I was cooking dinner thinking, this must be what being a parent is like. You literally go from meal to meal, and in between, deal with other needs, and in the down time, they complain or tell you how to do things better. There is no time for yourself, and no time to relax. And my "kids" are independent college students, whoa re actually very nice, helpful and grateful for everything. I can't imagine what it would be like with actual children. So yesterday I decided I will not be reproducing, but that's another blog in itself. The point is, I'm not done yet, but I really want to be! I can't wait to not be responsible for anyone anymore. I just want to sit on the couch with my feet up, or go where I want, do what I want and not have to think, "is everyone cared for? Am I needed somewhere? What time will I need to be back so that I have time to take care of...?"

Today, I was planning to take everyone to the fair, but my good friend is moving to another state on Thursday, and I want to see her before she leaves, so I think my new plan is to drop everyone off at the fair. I'm feeling sort of guilty, because I should be there to guide them and explain, "this is the poultry barn, this is a deep fried candy bar on a stick, etc." but I am confident they will navigate the adventure on their own without needing me. After this week, I will go back to camp for a week of cleaning, organizing, etc. And then, I will have a full week of no responsibility. I will be able to go where I want and do what I want and see my family and friends, and sit on the couch and watch tv all day if I so choose. It will be glorious! But until then, I have 2 full weeks left of being completely selfless and focused.

IT'S OVER!!!!!!!

CAMP IS OVER!!!!!!!!!!! Woooo Hooooo!!

I'll be sad in 2 weeks. Once I have had time to relax, I will miss the kids, the staff, the adventures, and being at camp. But right now, I'm ready to be done! I miss home, I want to see my family and friends. I am sick of being in charge of everything and I am TIRED!

Yesterday was the last day of camp. It was just like any other Saturday at camp, parents came, we sang, they took their kids home. It was a really good day, everything went smoothly. After kids left, we debriefed like usual, talking about highs and lows of the week. Usually after that, we clean, but yesterday, I asked for help with three projects that required a lot of people, because right after camp was when I had the most people. So we took out docks, moved all of the tables and chairs in the dining hall and then moved the big heavy Adirondack chairs from the beach. I don't know how much work I am actually going to get out of people, and those projects would have taken me FOREVER to do alone.

After that, we spent the afternoon chillin'. Two staff left on the bus and two left right after the bus, so it was a small crowd. It was nice to just sit around and talk about the summer, cook dinner, laugh, relax, rest a bit.

Today I am planning to do as much cleaning as I can get them to do. The staff that are left are not the best helpers nor the most mature, so I don't know how the day will go. I have never closed down a camp of this size before, and so I didn't really set myself up for success. I should have put something in their contracts about a requirement to help clean or whatever, but there's nothing. I think some of them think I am hosting a party, and they will be corrected today. But it will be a frustrating process. One more thing I can thank my old Boss for leaving me to deal with.

I am so eager to get all of this done and go home. Hopefully, that will give me the energy to clean, organize and pack today...